PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

Vol. 103.

December 31, 1892.

THE COMPLIMENTS OF THE SEASON.

(A Characteristic Welcome to the Coming Year.)

It was on the 31st of December that they met. It had been arranged that at the final hour of the last day of the expiring year they should compare notes, and not one of them had failed to keep the appointment. It would be scarcely right to say they were cheerful, but merriment was not included in the programme.

The Military Man

"There is not the slightest chance of my bettering myself," said the Military Man. "Now that the Regiment has come from India, I can't afford to live at home, and I can't exchange because of my liver. Promotion was never slower than in 'Ours,' and my look-out is about the most ghastly there ever yet was seen."

The Briefless Barrister

"You are wrong there," observed the Briefless Barrister of mature years. "I think mine is a shade worse. I give you my word that during the last twelve months I have not earned enough fees to pay the rent of my Chambers and the salary of my Clerk. And things are getting worse and worse. One of the Solicitors who used to give me an occasional turn has been struck off the Rolls, and the other, has transferred his business to Australia. I feel inclined to follow, but I can't raise the passage-money. What luck, now, could be worse than mine?"

"Why mine," answered the Author. "An entirely new set of men have come to the front since I was popular, and my works are a drug in the market. I haven't been able to get rid of more than a dozen pages during the twelve months, and they appeared in a Magazine that stopped before the appearance of the next number! The future never looked blacker and more hopeless. I believe I am the most unfortunate man on earth."

The Doctor

The Actor who has his Head turned with Applause.

"I fancy you are wrong," put in the Doctor. "I think my look-out worse than yours. Sold my practice seven years ago to flutter on the Stock Exchange. Lost my money in seven minutes, and have never had a patient since. I went to West Slocum (my old home) the other day, and found the place occupied by three Doctors, and the local Undertaker told me there was not room enough for one! Talk about luck, I am the unluckiest dog in the world!"

"I am not so sure of that," said the Actor, "here have I been 'resting' for the last twelve months, and it seems just as likely as not that I shall continue the operation until '94. I have tried everything in Town and the Provinces, and there isn't an opening anywhere. My fate is about the worst of the lot."

The Artist.

"Not so bad as mine," grumbled the Artist. "Haven't sold a single picture since the Jubilee year, and can't afford to pay the frame-maker. My studio is full of paintings, and the dealers say that there isn't a single canvas amongst the lot but what would be refused admission to an Exhibition of Sign-boards! Don't know how I should have kept body and soul together if it hadn't been for an opportune loan from one who in happier times was, in my employment as a model. Talk about prospects! Look at mine!"

Bulls and Bears. City Men.

"Well, come, you are better off than I am," said the City Man. "If I hadn't now and again to appear before the Registrar in the Bankruptcy Court, I don't know what I should do with my time! I am stone broke. That's about it—stone broke! Knocked out of the 'House,' and without a scrap of credit: I am done for!"

And it was agreed that none of them had any prospects. Then they separated, or rather, were on the eve of separating.

"By the way—fancy forgetting to do it!" said one of them.

And then they rectified the omission, and wished one another, "A Happy New Year!"

The latest Kangaroo Development.

DRAWN BLANK.

Huntsman. "How is it you never have any Foxes here now?"

Keeper (who has orders to shoot them). "Pheasants have Eat 'em all!"

THE FEAST OF REASON UP TO DATE.

The old Alchemist smiled as he watched the crucible on the glowing coals. The fumes rose, and he inhaled them with delight.

It was a triumph. Yes, he was able to go forth a conqueror. It mattered not where he wandered, for all flew from before him. He seemed to possess some subtle power that no one understood, but which was all-conquering. After a lengthened absence he returned to England.

At his Club he met one of his friends—a doctor.

"I will tell you my adventures," said the old Alchemist, lighting a strong cigar. "You must know——"

"I know everything," said the Physician, sternly. "I know why you have scared the Arabs, and why disease cannot touch you. The secret is revealed by a recent Lancet. You can brave disease and death, because you are fond of eating onions!"

Seeing that his secret was known, the old Alchemist heaved a heavy sigh, and disappeared, perchance for ever!

A PRIME CUT.

Mrs. Fidget (who has been fingering all the Joints for some time). "Can you guarantee this to be Welsh Mutton?"

Butcher's Assistant. "Certainly we can, Mum; but if you go 'Andling it much longer, it'll be Irish Stoo directly!"

THE PLEA OF THE POSTMAN.

All work and no play
Makes a dull boy; so they say,
Proverb-mongers, pretty bards.
"All play," may be, worse I'll bet 'em!
If they doubt my word, then let 'em
Try my hand at (Christmas) Cards!

Punch in reply.

True for you! You growl with reason.
Hearts are trumps, and at this season,
Pray remember, Goldylocks,
When your cards arrive in flocks,
Postman earns his Christmas Box!

"Rede me Aright!"—Sir Edward Reed, M.P., is anything but a "bruised reed." On the contrary. More correct would it be to describe him as A Bruiser Reed, for his plucky encounter with his adversaries, over whom he triumphed by "A Vast Majority."

"Tinned Dinners."

À propos of an interesting article in the Daily Telegraph last Thursday on this subject, the problem that most naturally suggests itself is, "How about the dinner, if you haven't any tin?" "No Song, No Supper" is pleasantly alliterative, but is not of universal application. "No tin, no dinner," may pass into a proverb, but, anyhow, it's a fact.

"Ah!" exclaimed our dear old Mrs. R., "I'm fond of high-class music. For many years I've heard my musical friends talking about 'Shoolbred's Unfinished Symphony.' Why doesn't he get it finished? When was it ordered? But there—I know geniuses are always unpunctual."

THE INEVITABLE.

(As Illustrated by recent Political, Social, and other Public "Functions.")

Say you'd get up an "Inaugural Meeting,"
Anything "forming," or Anyone "greeting,"
If you'd have guests in their tankards their nose bury,
Ruddy with mirth, you must put up Lord Rosebery.
If facts and statistics your minds you will task with,
He must be followed—of course—by young Asquith.
Q.C. and canny Earl, Earl and 'cute Q.C., gents!
There you've your "Popular Programme" in nuce, gents!

TO MY RIVAL.

How I loved her, blindly, madly!
Sighing sadly,
Feeling hurt
If I did not see her daily.
Oh, how gaily
She could flirt!

Flirt with me, or flirt with others,
With my brothers
Just as well,

How I could be such a duffer
So to suffer,
I can't tell.

Then you came, played tennis finely,
Danced divinely,
Sang as well;

Half Adonis, half Apollo,
Beat me hollow.
Such a swell!

How I hated you, so clever!
You were never
Thought a bore!

When I saw you so romantic
I was frantic;
How I swore!

I've recovered. Is she not a
Child that's got a
Newer toy?
From the first she thought she'd booked you;
Now she's hooked you.
Wish you joy!

I'll forgive you altogether,—
She'll see whether
I shall care,—
Shake your hand and gaily greet you,
When I meet you
Anywhere.

A GRAND OLD DIARY FOR 1893.

(Published in Advance.)

January.—As I am in Biarritz, may just as well see how they manage things in Spain. Looked up the Ministry at Madrid, and drafted them a treaty with Portugal. They thanked me with the courtesy of hidaljos, but refused with the paltry jealousy of a petty-fogging second-rate Power! What nasty pride! Sent home to one of my Magazines, "How I took part in a Bull-fight."

February.—Opened Parliament and set things going, and then thought I might take a trip to Russia to fill up the odd time. Had a chat with the Czar, and knocked off a plan for the introduction of "Home Rule." Czar polite, but didn't see it. Well of course every one has a right to his own opinions, still I think it would do. Czar didn't. Sent home to one of my Magazines, "How I lived for three days in the Mines of Siberia."

March.—Back to town for a few days, and then off again. Clark says travelling the best thing in the world for superfluous energy. Did China thoroughly. Drew up a plan for altering the language, manners, religions, politics, and customs of the Chinese. Brought it before a Special Committee of Mandarins; but they prevaricated, and practically shelved it. Sent home to one of my Magazines an article, "How I had a Boxing-match with the Emperor of China, and knocked his Majesty out of time."

April.—Things going on decently well at Westminster, so started for Turkey. Arranged Turkish Finance for the Grand Vizier. But that official distinctly an—well, not a wise man—said he would knock out a better budget himself. Sent home to one of my Magazines, "My Fortnight's Manoeuvres with the Bashi Bazouks."

May.—Dropped in at St. Stephen's, and put a few finishing touches to one or two measures, then away to Egypt. Sketched out a Republican form of Government for the Khedive. However, his Highness did not seem to see it. The Egyptians are very Conservative in their notions. Sent home to one of my Magazines, "A Fortnight in the Mahdi's Camp, by an Acquaintance of Osman Digna."

June.—Attended a couple of Cabinet Meetings, and then to America for a jaunt. Gave the President a carefully worked-out scheme for converting the Government of the United States into a Monarchy of limited liability. The President greatly pleased, but not quite sure it would work. The Americans are sadly behind the age. Sent home to one of my Magazines, "How to see the World's Fair at Chicago in Twenty Minutes, by One who has done it."

July.—Session nearly out. Took part in a debate or two and then off to the North Pole in a balloon. Managed to see a good deal of snow and ice, and fancy we caught a sight of the Pole itself. Sent home (by parachute) to one of my Magazines, "How I got within Measurable Distance of the Moon."

August.—Just back to Westminster for a couple of days to wind up the Session, then away to India. Went on my own responsibility to see the Ameer of Afghanistan. Drew up a treaty in draft to be signed by the Ameer and the Emperor of Russia, Czar was immensely pleased and wanted to make me Prince of Crim Tartary. Sent to one of my Magazines. "How I shot my first Wild Elephant."

September.—Returned to Hawarden for the inside of a week and then paid my hurried visit to Australia. Submitted to the Colonies a scheme for "A Federal Association for the encouragement of the Naturalisation of the Rabbit in Australasia." The proposal fell rather flat. Find the rabbit is already known in these places. Sent home to one of my Magazines an article entitled, "My Prize-fight with the Kangaroo, and how I won it."

October.—In London for a few days, then to Mexico. Saw the President, and suggested the revival of the Empire. President very rude; told me to mind my own business. Sent home to one of my Magazines, "A Week on the Prairies Buffalo lassooing."

November.—Popped in at Midlothian, and made a speech or two, and then hurried away to Norway and Sweden. Tried to induce them to give up their form of Home Rule, which, as all the world knows, has been a failure. Wanted them to take our Irish edition. They asked me "if it had been a success?" Stumped! Sent to one of my Magazines, "How to take a Photograph by Midnight Sunlight, by One who has done it."

December.—Obliged to stay at home, because I think we are going to change our Town-house. Downing Street most convenient, but question whether I shall be able to get a renewal of the lease next year. Sketched out the scenario of the Drury Lane Pantomime; but Sir Augustus prefers his own. Well, well, youth will have its way. Sent in my special article for Christmas and the New Year, "The History of the World, from the Earliest Times to the close of the Nineteenth Century, by One who has employed his leisure moments in its compilation." And here I may conclude, by wishing everybody "A Happy New Year."

GETTING OUT OF IT.

Fair Authoress. "By the Way, Have You Read Any of my Books?"

Q.C. "No; I'm Keeping Them for My Old Age!"

F. A. "Oh, Don't Talk of Old Age!—it's So Horrid!"

Q.C. "Not With Your Books!"

TRIFLES.

(From Our Special Autolycus.)

Mr. Oscar Browning has republished, with other Historical Essays, his account of the Flight to Varennes, in which he demonstrates that Carlyle was hopelessly wrong in the narrative which glows through the most famous and fascinating chapter in The French Revolution. There seems no doubt about it; but Autolycus says, he knows a man who would rather be wrong with Carlyle than right with O. B.

Met the Duke of Sotto-Voce to-day. Evidently in most doleful dumps. "No, it's not the weather, Autolycus," he said. "Fact is that, although supposed to be a rich man, I am reduced to extremities. Lunched yesterday at the Carlton off dish of braised ox-tail, and supped at night at Beefsteak on cow-heel à la cordonnier."

Autolycus hears that, early in the New Year, Mr. Armitstead, Mr. Gladstone's host in the South of France, will be raised to the Peerage, under the title of Baron Biarritz Of Barmouth. "Pau! Pau!" said Mr. Stuart-Rendell, when the rumour reached him. "What are Barmouth and Biarritz? I took Mr. G. on to the Pyrenees, and Cannes. If a fresh Barony is to be created for Armitstead, what shall I have?" "Why, a Canne'd one," said Algy West, who is always so ready. (Signed) Autolycus.

"The Liberator Building Society:"—To liberate, means, "make free." If the present charges are proven, the title will be rather appropriate, considering how very free it seems to have made with a considerable amount of property.

The Foreman of the Jury.

THE MAN WHO WOULD.

V.—THE MAN WHO WOULD BRING AN ACTION FOR LIBEL.

The following incident in the career of Browzer was recalled to memory by an article in a literary journal. An author was airing his grievances; among them this,—that writers of repute occasionally lend their names and pens to obscure or unsuccessful papers for a consideration, without asking how the usual staff of the paper is paid. These, indeed, are delicate inquiries. Part of the plaint was expressed in the following sentence:—

"When a journal makes a call upon a good author, and in the pages of
which he can gain neither honour nor renown, from which, as a matter of
taste, he would shrink, under ordinary circumstances, from contributing to,
that journal ought to be subjected to careful scrutiny."

Now what can this possibly be supposed to mean?—

"When a journal makes a call upon a good author, and in the pages of which he can gain neither honour nor renown," (why "and"?) "from which" (namely, "honour and renown") "he would shrink" (why should he shrink from renown and honour?) "from contributing to," (and how can he contribute to honour and renown?) "that journal ought to be subjected to careful scrutiny." "From which he would shrink from contributing to," what have we here? Surely it is the grammar that needs careful scrutiny, and surely, in no circumstances, could a lofty "rate of pay" be conferred on a style of this description.

It is natural to reflect that a writer in this unconventional manner has mainly to thank himself for any want of success which he, and we, may regret; and that reflection, again, suggests the case of Browzer, the Man who would bring an Action for Libel.

Browzer had a small patrimony, any amount of leisure, and a good deal of ambition. He liked the society of literary gentlemen, he envied their buoyant successes, such as being "interviewed,", and sorrowed with their sorrows, such as being reviewed. He listened to their artless gossip, and fancied himself extremely knowing. In these circumstances of temptation, Browzer fell, as many better men have done, and wrote a Novel. He drew on the recollections of his suburban youth; he revived the sorrows of his sole flirtation; he sketched his aunts with a satirical hand, and he produced a packet of manuscript weighing about 7-1/2 lbs. This manuscript he sent, first, to a literary man, whose name he had seen in the papers, with a long and fulsome letter, asking for an opinion. The parcel came back next day, accompanied by a lithographed form of excuse. Browzer denounced the envy and arrogance of mankind, and sent his parcel to a publisher. He carefully set little traps, with pieces of adhesive paper, every here and there, to detect carelessness on the side of the reader. The parcel came back in a week, with a note of regret that the novel was not suitable. Only one of Browzer's pieces of adhesive paper had been removed, but the others were carefully initialled. A modest author would have concluded that his opening chapters condemned him, but Browzer's wrath against mankind only burned the more fiercely. He removed his traps, however, and sent Wilton's Wooing the round of the Row. It always came back, "returning like the peewit," at uncertain intervals. It was really a remarkable manuscript, for it was written in black ink, blue ink, red ink, pencil, and stylograph; moreover, most of it was inscribed on the margins, the original copy having been erased, in favour of improved versions. Finally Browzer discovered a publisher who would take Wilton's Wooing, on conditions that the author should pay £150 for preliminary expenses (exclusive of advertising, for which a special charge was to be made), would guarantee the sale of 300 copies, and would accept half profits on the net results of the transaction.

The work saw the light, and, externally, it certainly did look very like a novel. The reviews, which Browzer read with frenzied excitement, also looked very like reviews of novels. They were usually about two inches in length, and generally ended by saying that "Mr. Browzer has still much to learn." Some of them condensed Browzer's plot into about eight lines, in this manner:—

"He was a yearning psychologist—she was a suburban flirt. He sighed, and analysed; she listened, and yawned. Finally, she went on the stage, and he compiled this record of the stirring transaction."

But at last there came a longer criticism of Wilton's Wooing in the Erechtheum. Somebody took Browzer to pieces, averring that "Mr. Browzer has neither grammar" (here followed a string of examples of Browzer's idioms) "nor humour," (here came instances of his wit and fancy), "nor taste" (again reinforced by specimens), "nor even knowledge of the French language, which he habitually massacres." (Here followed à l'outrance, bête noir, soubriquet, all our old friends.) Finally, Mr. Browzer was informed that many fields of honourable distinction might be open to him, but that a novelist he could never be.

The wrath of Browzer was magnificent. He went about among his friends, who told him that the critique was clearly by that brute St. Clair; they knew his hand, they said; a confounded, conceited pendant, and a stuck-up puppy. The review was calculated to damage the sale of any book; it was a dastardly attack on Browzer's reputation as a man of wit and humour, a linguist, and a grammarian. They thought (as Browzer wished to know) that an action would lie against the reviewer, or the review. Browzer went to a Solicitor, who espoused his cause, but without enthusiasm. The name of the reviewer was demanded. Now St. Clair was not the reviewer; the critic was a man just from College, hence his fresh indignation. Whether for the sake of diversion, or for the advertisement, the critic wished himself to bear the brunt of Browzer's anger, and the Erechtheum handed him over to justice; his name was Smith. This damped Browzer's eagerness; no laurels were to be won from the obscure Smith. The advocate of that culprit made out a case highly satisfactory to the learned Judge, who had been a reviewer himself upon a time. He showed that malice was out of the question; Smith had never heard Browzer's name, nor Browzer, Smith's (in this instance) before the book was published. He called several professors of the French tongue, to prove that Browzer's French was that usual in fiction, but not the language of Molière, or of the Academy. He left no doubt on the question of grammar. As to the wit and pathos, he made much mirth out of them. He cross-examined Browzer: had other reviews praised him? Had publishers leaped eagerly at his work? On what terms was it published? Browzer's answer appeared to show that Wilton's Wooing was not regarded as a masterpiece by the Trade.

Browzer's advocate put it that Browzer was being crushed by unfair ridicule on his first entry into a noble profession, or art, that of Scott and Fielding. He spoke of mighty poets in their misery dead. He drew a picture of Browzer's agonies of mind. He showed that masterpieces had, ere now, been rejected by the publishers. He denounced the licence of the Press. Who was an unheard-of Smith, who had written nothing, to come forward and shout at Browzer from behind the hedge of the anonymous? The novelist was a creature of delicate organisation; he suffered as others did not suffer; his only aim was to lighten care, and instruct ignorance. Why was he to be selected for cruel sarcasm and insult?

The learned Judge summed-up dead against Browzer. Browzer had published a book, had invited criticism, and then, when he only got what his work merited, he came and asked for damages.

The question of malice he left to the Jury, who must see that the Critic and Author had each been ignorant of the other's existence.

The Jury did not deliberate long. They brought in a verdict for Browzer, damages £500, and costs.

The advertisement, the publicity, caused Wilton's Wooing to be eagerly asked for. Browzer's book went into ten editions, and a large issue, at six shillings. Next year Browzer's publishers proved that he owed them £37 14s. 6d. This was disappointing, and even inexplicable, but Browzer's fortune was made, and now he is much lauded by all the reviewers.

The Foreman of the Jury is my grocer, and I ventured, in the confidence of private life, to question the justice of the verdict. "Well," he said, "you see it comes to this: where is this to stop? Mr. Browzer, he sells novels; I sell groceries."

"Excellent of their kind!" I interrupted.

"Well, I try to give satisfaction; and so does Mr. Browzer. If that young Mr. Smith writes to the papers that my sugars are not original, that I plagiarise them from a sand-bunker, or that my teas are not good Chinese,—like Mr. Browzer's French, which is what is usual in the Trade,—why, then, he interferes with my business. I bring my action, and hope to win it; and so, as a tradesman, I feel that Mr. Browzer was wronged." There was no reply to these arguments, but I pity the Reviewers.

TO MAUD.—A Birthday Roundel.

An empty purse! It's true we often say
This weary world of ours knows nothing worse,
And yet I send you, on this festive day,
An empty purse.

Do not consign to an untimely hearse
The friend who treats you in this heartless way.
Don't let your pretty lips invoke a curse,
But let me wish you happiness, and may
You guess the reason from this little verse
Why at your feet to-day I humbly lay
An empty purse.

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

The worst thing about Mrs. Henniker's new Novel, published by Hurst and Blackett, is its title. There is a London-Journalish, penny-plain-twopence-coloured smack about Foiled which is misleading. My Baronite says he misses the re-iterated interjection which should accompany the verb. "Ha! Ha! Foiled!!" would seem to be more the thing—but it isn't. The story is a simple one, wound about an old theme. It is well constructed, and admirably told. All the characters are what are called Society people; but Mrs. Henniker has studied them in the drawing-room, not from the area-railings, and reproduces them on her page with vivid strokes. Some of her acquaintances will probably feel uneasy when they read about Lord Huddersfield; whilst others will be quite sure that (among their sisters), they recognise Mrs. Anthony Gore. Those not in Society of to-day will find reminiscences of Becky Sharp in Mrs. Gore; whilst big-boned, good-natured, simple-hearted Anthony, pleasantly recalls Major Dobbin. The book is full of shrewd observation, and fine touches of character-drawing, with refreshing oases of flower-garden and moor in Yorkshire and Scotland.

Those who like a good "gashly" book should, my Baronite says, forthwith send for Lord Wastwater (Blackwood). The plot is so eerie, and its conclusion so incredulous, that the practised novel-reader, seeing whither he is being led, almost up to the last page expects the threatened blow will be averted by some more or less probable agency. But Mr. (or Miss) Sydney Bolton is inexorable. Lord Wastwater is dead now, and there can be no harm in saying that the House of Lords is well rid of his impending company. He would have made a sad Duke.

A little more than a year ago, in celebration of the seventieth birthday of Henriette Ronner, there was published a volume containing reproductions in photogravure of some of the works of that charming painter. Madame Ronner knows the harmless, necessary cat as intimately as Rosa Bonheur knows the horse or the ox. She has painted it with loving hand, in all circumstances of its strangely-varied life. No one knows, my Baronite says, how pretty and graceful a thing a cat is, till they study it with the assistance of Madame Ronner. Cassells afford opportunity of making this study by presentation of a new and cheaper edition of the volume, with cats in all attitudes purring round an interesting essay on themselves, and their Portraiture, contributed by Mr. H. M. Spielmann.

Wishing all of you, Constant Riters and Constant Readers, a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I am, yours ever,

The Blithesome Baron de Book-Worms.

CHRISTMAS NUMBERS.

(By a Comfort-loving Old Curmudgeon.)

Yes, the boys home from school are all playing the fool
With the house and its fittings from garret to basement.
The girls, too, are back, and continual clack
Goes on all day long, to home comfort's effacement.
The pudding's as sticky, the holly as pricky,
The smell of sour oranges awful as ever;
Stuffed hamper-unpackers, and pullers of crackers,
At making of litter and noise just as clever.
The stairs are all rustle, the hall's full of bustle,
Cold draughts and the banging of doors are incessant.
They're nailing up greenery, putting up "scenery,"
Ready for plays; 'tis a process unpleasant!
A strong smell of size, dabs of paint in one's eyes,
And "rehearsals" don't add to the charm of one's drawing-room.
My pet easy-chairs are all bundled down-stairs,
To leave the young idiots stage-space and more jawing-room
For "Private Theatricals." Wax on my hat trickles
From "Christmas Candles," that spot all the passages.
Heart-cheering youthfulness? Common-sense truthfulness
Tell us, at Christmas, youth's crassest of crass ages.
From kitchen to attic plates polychromatic,
From some "Christmas Number," make lumber. Good Heavens!
Ye young Yule-tide stuffers, we know, we old buffers,
The true "Christmas Numbers" are—Sixes and Sevens!

SPORTING NOTES.

Old Year.—"Over!"

New Year.—"Don't quite see my Way!"

The Friendlies in "Mars."—We are beginning to know more and more about the planet Mars every day. There are newspapers in Mars. Their journalists are going to communicate (by electric flash-light signals) news to Earth. Look out for "Pars from Mars." The Pa's probably intend having a good time of it when they get away for a Christmas holiday.

"DE MORTUIS."

Chatty Passenger. "Dead is he? Poor Chap! He used to Drive a City Atlas, and many's the time he's Driven me! He was a Good Fellow, but not much of a Whip, eh?"

Driver. "Ah, well! what d'y'expect? Why, he was a Gen'l'man's Coachman afore he took to the Road!"

THE YOUNG GUARD.

"Old Sentry. For this relief, much thanks; 'tis bitter cold,
And I am sick at heart."—Hamlet.

First Sentry-go! Night, stars and snow!
The air bites shrewdly, nipping, eager,
As in old Denmark long ago.
A long, long watch through storm and leaguer
That dim, departing Sentinel
Has held. He hails the Young Guard's entry—
"Who goes there?" "Friend!" "Pass, friend!" "All's well!"
Tired age retreats—fresh youth's on sentry.

All's Well? Why that's a formal hail
From Guard to Guard. "Not a mouse stirring,"
Francisco cried, chill, sleepy, pale.
No bat through night-wastes wheeling, whirring;
No trumpet's shrill, no rocket's roar.
And here all seems as calm and quiet
As on the heights of Elsinore,—
Save for far sounds of wassail riot.

Some "wake to-night and take their rouse"
In England as in Denmark, doubtless,
But here calm broods on midnight's brows;
The flag clings to the flag-staff, floutless;
And if ghosts walk—well, youngling Year,
With hints of spectres why alarm you?
Take your first watch, boy, void of fear,
With hope, that inward fire, to warm you!

The Old Guards know that youthful glow
Is not the only thing that's needed
For a long spell of Sentry-go;
But when were veteran croakings heeded?
And if they were, would carking care,
Not wrinkle boy-brow prematurely?
All's well—to-night. May your watch fare
Serenely, steadfastly, securely.

Angels and ministers of grace
Defend you from all spooks alarming!
There's something in your younker face
That even ghosts should find disarming.
They come in questionable shapes,
Those phantoms of the Social Crisis.
Are their cries menaces—or japes?
These be our Mysteries of Isis!

The Citadel you have to ward
Is old, and forces new are mustering.
Vigilant valour will afford
More help, my boy, than fear or flustering.
Young Harry with his beaver up
Should be your model, my young "nipper!"
Punch, lifting high a brimming cup,
Tips the Young Guard a friendly flipper!

Distinguished Invalid.—The latest bulletin states that "Mr. C. A. Pearson still continues weekly. Whether circulation is much impaired will be ascertained within a short time." Dr. Stephenson, his Medical Adviser, thinks the system must have sustained a severe shock, but hopes that entire rest, coupled with a liberal diet, may eventually be successful in combating the malady.

TO SOME EXPECTANT BARDS.

God rest you, merry gentlemen!
You twittering, chirping poetasters.
What though you ply for praise the pen,
'Tis a mad world, you know, my masters.

And therefore in our land of fools,
Where genius starves in many a gutter,
And all the lore of all the schools
Scarce finds a man in bread-and-butter;

Where rhymes abound, though small and few
The prizes are that any bard won,
Your lot, O facile rhyming crew
Of would-be laureates, is a hard one.

Go on and versify. God wot,
With bards and rhymes I would not quarrel.
You have my sympathies, but not
(And may it so remain) the laurel.

Extraordinary Fact in Natural History.—A Gentleman, whose name is well known in scientific circles, vouches for the following fact. He was, he says, passing a poulterer's shop, when he actually saw a hare buy a rabbit!! He subsequently added, that much depended on the way of spelling "buy."

Mrs. R., whose nephew broke his leg at
football the other day, told a friend that it
was a confounded fraction, but she hoped the
bones would ignite in the end.

THE YOUNG GUARD.

PHANTASMA-GORE-IA!

Picturing the Various Modes of Melodramatic Murder. (By Our "Off-his"-Head Poet.)

No. III.—THE REVOLVER MURDER.

From Bow comes the fur that's on his coat,
From Germany comes his watch;
His trousers the "London make" denote,
His accent is Franco-Scotch;
His liquor is Special Scotch;
He "guesses" much, and he says "You bet";
His manner is slow and sly;
His smoke is a Turkish cigarette,
For he is a Russian Spy—
A blood-seeking Russian Spy!

Oh! how will the woes of Virtue end?
'Tis late in the Five-Act play;
And Fortune still is dark Vice's friend,
And villany holds its sway,
Its truly wonderful sway!
'Twould scarce be the thing for Vice to crow,
And Virtue to sink and die;
The end must arrive some time, we know—
So bring on your Russian Spy,—
Come, out with your Russian Spy!

It cannot be long! The time is here
For Virtue to pardon Vice,
Providing he does not live too near,
Or call more than once or twice—
Look in more than once or twice.

But wrongs are not brooked by Russian gents—
They're awfully angry fry!
The hero may pardon past events,
But not so the Russian Spy,—
'Tis death from the Russian Spy!

So as humbled Vice up stage retires,
Forgiven by him, he'd slay
(A noble revenge the House admires,
By utterly giving way—
By sniffingly giving way)—
The Spy, with revolver, comes down C.,
And aims at the evening sky,
And down tumbles Vice, as dead as three,
From lead from the Russian Spy!—
Oh! accurate Russian Spy!

SOMETHING LIKE A COUNTY-COUNCILLOR.

(Being Evidence taken in the Palace of Truth.)

Question. And so you object to Theatres and Music-Halls?

Answer. Certainly; and know as much about one as the other.

Q. Do you approve of Shakspeare?

A. Certainly not; nor of any other playwright.

Q. Have you ever read a dramatic composition?

A. Never; it is against my principles to peruse such (so-called) literature.

Q. Then why do you object to the Author's work?

A. Because I know if I were Shakspeare or any of his colleagues, my writings would be entirely unfit for representation.

Q. Have you ever entered a Theatre?

A. Certainly not; and never shall.

Q. Have you visited a Music-Hall?

A. Emphatically no, and don't want to.

Q. Then why do you complain of them?

A. Because my imagination pictures them as indescribably horrible.

Q. How comes it that knowing so little, you have been sent to adjudicate upon so much?

A. Because I was elected by the know-nothings of the district I have the honour to represent.

Q. And what became of the rest of the constituency?

A. You mean the majority—oh, they didn't take the trouble to register their votes.

Q. Then you are the mouthpiece of ignorance and incompetence?

A. Certainly—but that is not a pretty way of putting it!

On the Speculative Builder.

"Hodman Hout!"

He's the readiest customer living,
While you're lending, or spending, or giving;
But when you'd make profit, or get back your own,
He's the awkwardest customer ever you've known.

Song at Christmas..—"Then Yule Remember Me!"

"ANECDOTAGE."

Companion Volume to other Works of the same kind.

The Duke of Wellington never could persuade George the Fourth that he was not present at Waterloo. One day his Majesty, talking over the table, said to his Grace, "I perfectly well remember your crying to the Grenadiers, 'Up, Guards, and at them!'" "Yes, Sire," replied the Duke, "so I have been told before." The King smiled at the jest, but never forgave the carefully-concealed sarcasm.

Refuge for Egotists.—"The Eye Hospital." The Specialist who attends should be Member for Eye.

ODE TO SAPONACEA.

Who claims my strongest missing noun,
When sheets as soft and white as down,
Return in colour yellowy-brown?
My Laundress!

Who by her science can convert
My best and most expensive shirt
Into a miracle of dirt?
My Laundress!

Who, when my collars come back frayed,
Receives my protests undismayed,
And merely wishes to be paid?
My Laundress!

Who spite of warnings that one gives,
Turns cambric kerchiefs into sieves,
Or ragged trellis-work—and lives!
My Laundress!

Who at the wash-tub, truth to tell,
Is partly fraud and partly sell,
Yet does her "mangling" very well?
My Laundress!

THE POET'S LOVE.

My Lady's name I cannot state,
At different times I greet her
As Chloe, Amaryllis, Kate,
According to the metre;

I've called her Mabel many a time,—
A name which leads itself to rhyme.

My Lady's hair is sometimes black
To match her sable dresses,
At others falls about her back
In glorious auburn tresses,
Yet do not take me to imply
She's given to the use of dye.

I like her when she's sweet and small,
The daintiest of flowers,
I love her when, divinely tall,
Above the rest she towers;
And yet, as second thoughts suggest,
Perhaps a golden mean were best.

Sometimes, a simple rustic maid,
She strays through meadows green,
Sometimes her beauty is displayed
In glittering ball-room scene;
More recently I've thought upon
Creating her a lady-Don.

This peerless girl of whom I speak
I ever worship blindly
And sing her praises once a week,
If editors are kindly;
Alas, this paragon, I own,
Exists within my verse alone!

A Chilling Winter "draft."—That of The Home-Rule Bill.

1892 GOING OUT IN A BLIZZARD.

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 a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.

Begin Index

Adapted from the French, 274

Ad Puellam, 73

Advancing Years, 150

Advertising In Excelsis, 94

Advice to the G. O. M., 45

Afternoon Sail (An), 64

Aids to Larceny, 63

All at Sea, 77

All Round the Fair, 232, 244, 256, 268

Alone in London! 54

American Ganymede (The), 230

Anecdotage, 168, 181, 186

Announcement, 150

Another Meaning, 231

Antiquity of Golf, 73

Apologia Arrygatensis, 201

'Arriet, 73

'Arry at 'Arrygate, 133, 169

'Arry in Venice, 88

"Art Competitions," 289

Aspiration, 72

At a Hypnotic Séance, 157

At a Rink, 258

At a Vegetarian Restaurant, 280

At it Again! 196

At Last! 162

At the Patten-makers' Banquet, 155

At the Wild West, 4

Austro-German Officers' Vade Mecum, 171

Autumn Afternoon at Nazareth House (An), 213

Balfour and Salisbury, 86

Battle of the Bards (The), 182, 201

"Bear with us!" 29

Be-Littler-ing Mr. Gladstone's Majority, 39

"Best Evidence "—how not to get it (The), 257

Between the Acts, 185

Bewildered Tourist and the Rival Sirens (The), 50

Birds of a Feather, 49

"Blower" burst up (The), 122

Bogey or Benefactor? 258

Boom-de-ay Poet (The), 226

Bravo, Bobby! 162

Brummagem Birdcatcher (The), 218

Builder and the Architect (The), 96

By-and-by Laws for Trafalgar Square, 159

Cabbin' it Council, 243

Candidate's Complete Letter-Writer, 3

Canvassers and Canvassed, 28

Caron and Charon, 196

Caudal Lecture (A), 72

Charity begins Abroad, 267

Château d'If (The), 142

Choosing Christmas Toys, 299

Choosing his Words, 99

"Christmas is Coming!" 238, 294

Christmas Numbers, 305

Church and Booth, 16

City Paradox (A), 158

Classical Question, 249

"Closed for Alterations and Repairs," 6

Columbus, 186

Commerce à l'Americaine, 36

Compendiously Grammatical Tree (A), 105

Compliment of Coin (The), 262

Compliments of the Season (The), 301

Conversational Hints for Young Shooters, 159, 180, 190, 204, 205, 220, 240, 245, 261, 265

Coriolanus, 15

Costs as they are and will be, 226

County-Councillor's Diary (The), 195

Court Jesters (The), 209

"Court On!" 53

"Crossing the Bar!" 174

Cry of the Children (The), 27

Cui Bono? 73

Cycle-riding Dustman (The), 58

"Davy Jones's Locker," 270

"Dearest Chuck!" 12

De Coronâ, 165

Degree Better (A), 281

Diary of an Explorer à la Russe (The), 61

Diary of a Statesman, 286

Diary of the Dead Season (A), 109

Doe versus Roe(dent), 180

Druriolanus in (Music) Aulis, 49

Druriolanus's Next, 102

Duffer in Politics (The), 40

Dust and Hashes, 27

Ecclesiastical Intelligence, 180

Election Agonies, 75

Election Notes, 9

End of Henley (The), 21

En-nobbling Spectacle (An), 156

Essence of Parliament, 71, 82, 94

Evening from Home (An), 264

Exact, 53

Examination Paper for a Press Candidate, 155

Fact, or Funk? 273

Faults o' Both Sides, 246

Feeling their Way, 100

Fight for the Standard (The), 255

Fighting "Foudroyant" (The), 135

Fine, or Refine? 77

Flowery, but not Mealy-Mouthed, 138

Forte Scutum Salus Ducum, 63

Frog he would a-Rowing go (A), 170

From Day to Day, 25

From Newcastle, 37

From Pencil to Pen, 288

From the Vale of Llangolflyn, 126

Game of the Little Horses, 217

Geographical Theory (A), 42

German and Horse-trying Ride (The), 189

German Waters (The), 99

Good Old (Sunday) Times Revived (The), 207

Good Stayer (A), 30

Grand Old Diary for 1893 (A), 303

"Gratuitous Opinion" (The), 130

"Great Scott!" 86

Great Unknown (The), 189

"Green the Guide," 172

Guy Fox Populi, 208

"Habitual Drunkards Committee," 158

Hat to the Parasol (The), 132

Hearing Himself, 121

Health and Hoppiness, 145

"Here we are again!" 209

Hint to Editors (A), 129

"Honi soit qui mal y pense!" 194

How Insultan'! 75

How it might have been Settled, 81

"Ichabod!" 222

Impressions of "Il Trovatore," 193

Impromptu, 135

In a Ghost-Show, 184

"In a Winter (Covent) Garden," 185

In Banco, 137

Inevitable (The), 302

In Excelsis, 171

Infra Dig., 81

Inns and Outs, 89, 105, 122, 154

"In Nubibus," 124

In Office with the Labour Vote, 87

In the County Council, 210

In the Monkey-House, 153

"In this Style, Two-and-Six," 165

Jerry-building Jabberwock (The), 166

Jim's Jottings, 262

Judge's Lament (A), 214

Justice for 'Frisco, 36

Just like Justice, 60

"Keeping Up the Christopher," 136

Kiss (The), 288

Knill Nisi Bonum, 160

Lady Gay's Detection, 228

Lady Gay's Distraction, 237

Lady Gay's Ghost, 243

Lady Gay's Selection, 255

Lady Gay's Selections, 10, 16, 29, 41, 57, 61, 84, 118, 142, 146, 165, 178, 192, 197

Land of the (rather too) Free (The), 105

Last Discovery (The), 252

Last Train (The), 3

Last Word (The), 292

Lay of a Successful Angler (The), 181

Lays of Modern Home, 36, 49, 77, 147, 293

Lay of the Last Knight (The), 136

Leary King at the Lyceum (The), 233

"Le Grand Français," 246

Left to the Ladies, 238

"L'Homme Propose——" 51

Les Enfants Terribles! 202

Letters to Abstractions, 120, 124, 137, 168, 241

Local Colour, 250

Lost Joke (The), 90

Man who Would (The), 225, 229, 253, 285, 304

Margate by Moonlight, 76

Members we shall Miss, 106

Mem. from Whitbreadfordshire, 158

Memorable, 81

Menagerie Race (The), 112

"Minime!" 57

Minor Miseries, 45, 58

Miscarriage of Justice, 136

"Missing Word" (The), 282, 293

Mixed Notions, 277, 297

Modern Mercury (The), 167

Montecarlottery, 293

More Contributions to the Alcoholic Question, 17

More Lights! 141

More Reasons for Stopping in Town, 111

Mr. Punch's Election Address, 9

Musical Notes, 97

My First Brief, 202

My Puggy, 1

My Season Ticket, 192

Need I say More? 89

New Broom and the Black Peerage (The), 209

New Regulations for the English Police, 186

Next African Mission (The), 45

Next Election Pic-nic (The), 274

Next Vivâ Voce (The), 82

Nightly Chevalier (A), 117

"No Fees," 63

"Notes and Paper," 225

Not Going Away for the Holidays, 97

Notice, 246

Not Improbable, 141

"Oh no, we never Mention it," 145

Oh, Saunderson, my Colonel! 6

Old and New Peer (An), 106

On a Guernsey Excursion Car, 148

On an Irish Landlord, 270

On the Boxing Kangaroo, 245

On the Fly-Leaf of an Old Book, 16

On the Sands, 52

On the Threshold of Themis, 22

Opera-goer's Diary, 228, 258

Opera in the Future (The), 93

Operatic Notes, 12, 17, 33, 39, 233

Other Paper (The), 214

Other Side of the Canvass (The), 46

Otherwise Engaged, 10

Our Booking-Office, 34, 48, 58, 77, 106, 178, 214, 219, 234, 249, 257, 269, 281, 300, 305

Our "Missing Word" Competition, 277

Out of It! 18

Ovidius Remark, 84

Pan the Poster, 138

"Pariah" (The), 81

"Perfidious Albion" again, 37

Phantasmagore-ia, 125, 228, 309

Phillipopolis, 111

Pick of the Baskets (The), 153

Plea of the Postman (The), 302

Playful Heifervescence at Hawarden, 117

Plebiscite for Parnassus (A), 229

Poet's Love (The), 309

Popular Songs Resung, 101

Polite Learning, 202

Political Johnny Gilpin (The), 30

Political Training, 173

Poor Road to Learning (A), 160

Poor Violinist (The), 118

Porter's Slam (The), 294

Potato and the Heptarchy (The), 132

Practical Theosophy, 267

Premier and Physician, 221

Presented at Court, 198

Pretence versus Defence, 45

Prickle-me-ups, 3

Pride of the Empire (The), 160

Probable Deduction, 171

Proofs before Letters, 231

Prospect of the Twelfth (A), 42

Puff of Smoke (A), 237

"Punsch," 145

"Patting on the Hug!" 126

Queen and the Songstress (The), 277

Queen of Man-o'er-Board (The), 144

Queer Queries, 276, 293

Question of Police (A), 207

Quite Moving, 229

Racine, with the Chill Off, 24

Ramsgate Sands (The), 102

Rather Appropriate, 73

Rather Startling, 282

Rather too Premature, 294

Reading the Stars à la Mode, 78

Real and Ideal, 250

Reconciliation, 273

Reef-lection, 75

Reflection in the Mist, 269

Refreshers, 209

Reports of Crackers, 281

"Restoration" Period (The), 173

Result of being Hospitable (A), 37

Rhodes Colossus (The), 267

"Rift within the Lute" (The), 108

Road to Ruin (The), 210

Robert Lowe, Viscount Sherbrooke, 57

Robert on Lord Mare's Day, 231

Robert on Things in Gineral, 72

Robert's Companions, 196

Robert's Visit to Ireland, 216

Roe, Bloater's Roe! 25

Rollicking Show (A), 51

Roundabout Ramble (A), 123

Royal Road to Comfort (The), 257

"Safe Bind, Safe Find!" 234

Sea-side Ills, 132, 141

Secundum Harty, 216

Shakspearian Conundrum, 231

Short and Sweet, 246

Shortest Day (The), 291

Sigh no more, Lottie, 155

Signs of the Season, 241

Simple as A "B" "C," 1

Simple Stories, 149

"Sins of Society" (The), 269

Sir Carlos Euan Smithez; or, The Insulting
Sultan and the High-toned Christian Knight, 38

Sir Gerald Portal, 273

Skeleton at the Feast (The), 290

Skirts and Figures, 51

Slight Muddle (A), 10

"Small by Degrees, and beautifully less," 286

Something like a County Councillor, 309

Something to Live for, 265

Song of the Bar (The), 93

Songs of Society, 109

Songs Out of Season, 98, 117, 204

Sonnet on Chillon, 155

"Speech of Monkeys" (The), 111

Sporting Notes, 305

"Squared!" 198

Stepney that Costs (The), 216

Studies in the New Poetry, 13, 33, 114

"Stumped!" 145

Such a "Light Opera!" 173

Suggestions for New Musical Publications, 282

Summerumbrella, 48

Sun-Spots, 255

Sword and Pen, 146, 181

Take Care of the Pence, 276

Taking the Oat-cake, 101

Taxes, 267

Tee, Tee, only Tee! 105

That Dutchman Ooms! 15

"There and Back," 288

"There he Blows!" 26

This Picture and That, 97

Through Ever-Green Glasses, 2

Thoughts not Worth a Penny, 177

"Three Choirs Festival," 132

Tip to Tax-Collectors, 90

To a Model Young Lady, 234

To a Pheasant, 130

Toast, 49

To Astræa, 197

To a Summer Flower, 25

To Dr. Louis Robinson, 81

To Football, 155

To Mankind in General, 213

To Maud, 160, 305

To Melenda, 149

To Miss Ada Jenoure, 72

To my Luggage-Labels, 125

To my Partner, 288

To my Rival, 302

To my Sweetheart, 177

To Our Guernsey Correspondents, 190

"To Pay or not to Pay, that is the Bisleyness," 21

To Some Authors, 214

To Some Expectant Bards, 306

To the First Bathing-Machine, 18

To "The Lazy Minstrel," 240

To the Roller-Skating Fiend, 93

Traveller (The), 40

Trifles, 303

Trio (A), 63

Two-penn'orth of Theosophy, 85

Ugly Face (The), 125

Un-Brocken Vows, 111

Undecided, 262

Unopposed Election, 5

Up Aloft, 121

"Used Up," 124

Useful Experience (A), 8

Very Cruel, 222

Very Entertaining, 144

Very Latest (The), 120

Vive le Rain du Ballet à l'Alhambra, 145

Votes and the Man! 5

Wail of a Pessimist Poet (The), 53

Walker! 63

"Wandering Minstrel" (The), 279

Wanted in the Law Courts, 34

War on a Large Scale, 250

Was, Is, and Will be, 197

Where to Place Him, 237

Why I don't write Plays, 109

Why the French Won the Boat-Race, 180

Why Young Men don't Marry, 129

William Hardwick Bradbury, 181

William the Wheelman, 42

"With Honours of War," 69

Wot Cher! 54

Wot Cher, Labby? 86

Written a Hundred Years hence, 161, 192

Yes or No? 189

Young Guard (The), 306

Yule-tide—Old and New, 289

LARGE ENGRAVINGS.

"Au Revoir!" 91

"Back!" 115

Bogey or Benefactor? 259

"Christmas is Coming!" 295

"Closed for Alterations and Repairs," 7

"Crossing the Bar!" 175

"Davy Jones's Locker," 271

"Ichabod!" 223

"Knocked 'em in the Westmin-is-ter Road," 55

"Le Grand Français," 247

"Little Vulgar Boy" (The), 103

"Missing Word" (The), 283

Old Spirit (The), 163

Out of it! 19

Pan the Poster, 139

Political Johnny Gilpin (The), 31

"Putting on the Hug!" 127

Road to Ruin (The), 211

"Safe bind, safe find!" 235

"Squared!" 199

Tuning the Harp, 151

White Elephant (The), 187

William the Wheelman, 43

"Will they Work?" 79

"With the Honours of War," 66, 67

Young Guard (The), 307

SMALL ENGRAVINGS.

American Ganymede (The), 230

Arriving too late for the First Act, 71

Artist and Show-Boards, 258

Artists at Millbank, 287

Artists' Technicalities during Dinner, 126

At the South Sea-side, 131

Bennett, M.P. for Lincoln, 45

Bewildered Tourist (The), 50

Bismarck the Whale, 26

Buckjumper in a Hansom (A), 207

Buffalo William's N.S.E. and W. Show, 35

Cabbin' it Council in November, 242

Cabinet Meet (The), 206

Cabman on Ladies' Dress (A), 237

Candidate on the Hustings, 24

Captain and Railway Lad, 245

Chamberlain as a Birdcatcher, 218

Changing Old Gent into an Elephant, 167

Coach and his Pupils (A), 202

Columbus viewing Steamship, 74

Coriolanus Bismarck, 14

Costermongers' Trousers (The), 277

Country Butcher and the Cutlets, 97

Countrywoman's Husband a Primrose Dame, 90

Coursing Nowadays, 275

Deceased 'Bus Driver (A), 306

Dining en Ville, 69

Doctor and Two Sisters (A), 210

Doctor who Dresses Irreligiously, 5

Draper's Assistant and Prim Lady, 261

Driving Lady and the Baronet, 219

Effie's Definition of a Parable, 201

Egotist's Opinion on Popularity, 178

Elderly Duchess and French Marshal, 114

Election Editor gone Mad, 41

Election Fever—a Candidate's Dream, 11

Ethel's Account of Papa's Sport, 214

Ex-M.P. and his Wife, 39

Fair Authoress and Old Age, 303

Family Doctor and Youthful Patient, 57

Farmer prefers Manual Labour, 111

Festive Season—a Scotch Night (The), 263

Fight for the Standard (The), 254

Fighting "Foudroyant" (The), 134

Finding of Pharaoh (The), 144

Flyman and Invalid Gentleman, 267

Football Fever in the Midlands, 239

Foreigners at Duchess's Concert, 78

French Frog and English Bull, 170

French Hairdresser and Englishman, 190

Frenchman and Uncle Jack's Nieces, 138

Frisky Spinster and Dancing Captain, 6

Gentleman who "takes life easily," 250

German Specialist and Gouty Patient, 75

Gillie and the "crowded Forest," 213

Gladstone's Ever-Green Glasses, 2

Gladstonian Dentist and Tory Patient, 16

Gladstonian Thunders from Snowdon, 158

Going on Board the Government Ship, 62

Golfer's Dream (The), 191

Grand Old Gardener (The), 107

Grumpy Husband and the Papers, 87

Happy Family Card-Party (A), 291

Harmonious Christmas Political Party, 298

Having the Woods Painted, 238

Helping his Host to Whiskey, 40

High Church Lady and Verger, 226

Highland Chieftains and Games, 161

High Schoolmistress and Doctor, 186

Horse-Rake in Rotten Row, 113

Hospitable Host and Languid Visitor, 34

Hostess welcoming a Late Guest, 18

Housemaid's Idea of a Gentleman, 234

How to get New-laid Eggs, 121

Hunting Lady thrown into a Brook, 249

Hunting Man's Splendid Mount, 195

Hunting Season—the Meet, 215

Iago-Chamberlain in Birmingham, 37

Impossible to Think Worse of Him! 286

Impudent Boy and Tall Clergyman, 192

In the Irish Elector's Clutches, 23

Jack and the Salt Rain-water, 145

Jerry-Building Jabberwock (The), 166

Jeweller and Clerical Customer, 58

Jones's "Bad Quarter of an Hour," 279

Keeping Poultry in Sitting-room, 15

Labouchere Fox and Grapes, 110

Ladies in the Hunting Field, 276

Lady and Sea-side Librarian, 142

Lady and Swiss Governess, 25

Lady Canvasser and Shopkeeper, 21

Lady Croesus and Fancy Ball, 99

Lady Detectives of Character, 282

Lady Friends and Old Lace, 246

Lady Sketching at the Sea-side, 102

Lady's Dream of Grouse-Driving, 81

Lady Visitor's Comfortable Room (A), 222

Landlady and Foreign Lodger, 106

Letting Off Cartridges and Partridges, 183

Lika Joko's Japanese Jape, 29

Little Boy's Strawberries and Cream, 9

Little Miss Facing-both-Ways and her Dog, 72

Little Spiffkins and the Girls, 220

Local Preacher and the Vicar, 129

Lord Mayor Knill and Livery Goose, 160

Lord Mayor's Footman's Meditations, 227

Lord Rosebery's Star and Garter, 194

Maiden Ladies and Bathing Tourists, 162

Major on Cricket in Hot Weather, 123

"Mars" through Punch's Telescope, 141

Master Tommy and the Case of Private Jams, 61

Members we shall Miss, 70, 106

Millionnaire's Son's Ingratitude, 262

Miss Fanny quarrels with Master Victor, 205

Mr. Punch's Deer-Stalking Party, 179

Mr. Punch's Fishing-Party, 143

Mr. Punch's Shooting-Party, 203

Mrs. Fidget at the Butcher's, 302

Mrs. Ramsbotham and the Vicar, 250

Mrs. Snobbington's Hotel Acquaintances, 150

New Cabinet (The), 95

New Faces in the House of Commons, 47

Newly-Married Pair and Newsboy, 135

New M.P. not a Small Man, 27

New Skirts and Sleeves, 231

Not Members of "British Association," 73

Off to the Country again, 83

Oscar Wilde in Uniform, 1

Othello, M.P. for Central Finsbury, 33

Our Grand Young Gardner, 155

Peer who never forgets Old Faces, 54

"Peri at the Academy Gates" (The), 146

Pheasants and Foxes, 301

Policeman X blowing his Whistle, 243

Portrait of a Labour Candidate, 36

Proposing on Board a Yacht, 171

Proud Mother and College Doctor, 82

Punch and Toby Yachting, 98

Punch's Pic-nic—Parliamentary Mirage 119

Reasons for not visiting the Club, 130

Rehearsing Election Speech on Railway, 3

Rehearsing for Private Theatricals, 294

Reminiscence of the Baseball Season, 251

Reprimanding the French Chef, 41

Rhodes Colossus (The), 266

Rival Bards (The), 182

Shoeblack and his Customer, 51

Short Tenor and a Tall Bass (A), 198

Sir Carlos and the Insulting Sultan, 38

Sir E. Lawson, Labby, and Mr. Punch, 86

Sketchley's Picture and Photograph, 147

Snubbing a Decadent Swell, 289

Socialist's Absent Audience (A), 165

So Expensive to be Rich, 94

Some Ups and Downs of the General Election, 59

Spectre Judge and the M.P., 290

Sporting Youth and Low-Necked Beauty, 10

Stupid Elector and Polling-Clerk, 13

Subaltern's Idea of the Use of Cavalry, 274

Sunday Morning at the Sea-side, 159

Sweep and Stonemason, 189

Swell cautious before a Lady Diarist, 63

Swell's Remarks about Coffee, 174

Swell who should have been Drowned, 30

Taken for a Quiet Drive, 153

Taking Tea with Mrs. M'Glasgie, 255

Trippers on the Yorkshire Coast, 118

Vegetarian Professor and the Fishes, 297

Venus de Medici Collar (A), 270

Voyager who is not First-Class, 136

"Wandering Minstrel" (The), 278

Year going out in a Blizzard, 310

Young Masher and High Chairs, 93

Young Physician on Influenza, 109

End of Index

LONDON: BRADBURY, AGNEW & CO. LIMITED, WHITEFRIARS.