THE LATEST PARISIAN "ROMANCE."

(Translated from the original French Canard.)

THEY were hunting him down. They had traced him from spot to spot. Now he was in the barracks bribing the Army, now in the Ministerial Bureau offering gold to the Members of the Government, now in the office of the leading newspaper arranging for back pages in advertisements at double the scale price. His pernicious influence was felt everywhere. The whole body was permeated with a poisonous atmosphere of corruption.

"We shall have him now," said the first detective, as he looked to the lock of his revolver.

"No doubt about it," returned the other, as he loosed his sword in its scabbard. "He cannot escape us."

Then the force of cavalry, infantry and artillery in attendance raised a stealthy cheer. It had been difficult to bring the charges home to the accused, but they had succeeded. It seemed impossible to prove his identity, but now they had surrounded him. It was only a question of a few minutes, and he would be their prisoner.

The detectives entered the café. They looked around them. They could see no one answering to his description. All who were there had black beards, black shaggy hair. They could see no red tresses, no yellow Dundreary whiskers and prominent front teeth. Where could he be?

"Yes, there is one diner who has ordered a singular meal," replied a garçon, in reply to a question. "He has asked for turtle-soup, raw herrings, raw beef, raw mutton chops, plum-pudding and a barrel of porter-beer."

"It must be he," cried the detectives, in a breath; "only an Englishman would want such a meal."

"And he asked for the Times and Punch," added the waiter.

"Proof conclusive of nationality;" and in a moment the man was surrounded and seized.

"You dare not touch me," he shouted, battling with his captors. "I am sacred, and if you offer violence you pledge your country to a terrible war!"

Impressed by the stranger's vehemence, the detectives released him. Once free, he threw off his black wig, took off his false nose, and put on his blue spectacles. Then he gazed around him proudly.

"We ask your pardon, M. l'Ambassadeur," said the police.

"It is granted," returned their now-released prisoner, and he entered his carriage. "I would have preferred to preserve my incognito, but your interference has compelled me to reveal my identity. And now, home."

And the coachman drove the Ambassador to a grand mansion in the Rue Faubourg St. Honoré.

Sequel (from the original English).

And when the Ambassador read the above, he came back to his native land, and observed, "I think I have had enough of this."

And everyone at home agreed with him.

By Our Out-and-Out-every-Evening Man.—Mem. The only endurable "Squash" in this hot weather is "Lemon Squash."

QUEER ENGLISH.

We are delighted—everyone is delighted, and that is much the same thing—to know that Mrs. Bancroft is by this time on the high road to recovery from the effects of what might have been a serious accident. The "inimitable" was in a Hansom, when the horse suddenly fell. Had Mrs. Bancroft been only what is professionally known as "A Walking Lady," this could not have happened. The Daily Telegraph's account of it informed us that "Mr. Blakeley, now of the Criterion Theatre, and once a member of Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft's own company, who was happily passing immediately after the occurrence, was the means of having the lady taken to her private residence." Mr. Blakeley is always "happy" in any part he undertakes, nihil tetigit quod non ornavit, and no doubt he was "happily passing," perhaps gaily whistling, lightly stepping, merrily twirling a stick, and walking along "thinking of nothing at all," when he became aware of the danger to the popular ex-manageress, which at once changed his note from a tenner to an alto: in fact alto-gether altered it. [The above comment would have been impossible had the reporter stated that, "Happily for Mrs. Bancroft, Mr. Blakeley, &c., &c., was passing at the moment, and, &c., &c."]

"Ben Trovato!"—Yes, found at last; this Ben is Mr. Ben Davies, who sang five songs before the Queen, that is—to avoid all appearance of rudeness—in Her Gracious Majesty's presence, one day last week. He is now "Big Ben Trovato-re" in chief, and long may he remain so.

A Proper Name.—That peculiar but not uncommon ornithological species known as "Gaol-birds" ought to be kept in a Knave-iary.

FROM PROFESSOR MUDDLE.

Dear Mr. Punch,—Your poet (in this week's issue) reminds me of my own unfortunate experience. Ever since I read that inspired work, Alice in Blunderland, I do not seem to be able to give a correct version of any of the poems I have long been accustomed to repeat or sing. After dinner the other night I was asked to sing, and gave a well-known song as follows:—

De Trop.—The last item of the menu, as given in the World, of the Royal Wedding Breakfast, after the sweets, was named in plain English,—all the previous dishes being given in French,—"cold roast fowls." But how on earth after four courses and sweets, finishing with "Pâtisserie assortie," could anyone have the conscience—we put it in this way—to ask for and to eat any portion of "cold roast fowls"?

"This is a Goak."—The Weekly Register, recording the event of a Baronetcy being conferred on the present Lord Mayor, remarks, "With him we know the honour will be no barren one." Very good, W. R. The italics are ours, just to emphasize the pun.

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

House of Commons, Monday, July 10.—Glad the sitting's over; often get a little mixed here; never so magnificently as to-night. Reached 9th Clause Home-Rule Bill, which settles question of Irish Representation in Imperial Parliament. When Mr. G. brought in his Bill in 1886, he proposed to exclude Irish Members. Remember very well the cheer that filled the Chamber when that announcement made on introduction of Bill. Those were, as Pat O'Brien used to say, "the days of all-night sittings." Irish Members stood in bitter implacable attitude of obstruction. At prospect of clearing them out, giving Great Britain some peace in its own Parliament, the hearts of Members leaped for joy. Seemed at moment as if this bribe would be enough to carry the Bill.

Then came time for reflection; chance of reviewing opportunities. Joseph's rapid insight perceived in this arrangement a stab at the Union. In phrase which Squire of Malwood to-night obligingly recalled he had written, "The key of the position is the maintenance of the full representation of Ireland in the Imperial Parliament."

Mr. G., profiting by experience, proposes in present Bill to maintain Irish representation in slightly modified number. That would seem to cut ground from under Joseph's clinging feet. What he passionately, persistently demanded in 1886, is conceded in 1893. If he cannot abear other provisions of the Bill, he must surely defend the one that retains Irish Members at Westminster. Must he, indeed? Those who think so, know not Joseph. For some men the fence might seem a hopelessly stiff one. Joseph takes it as an ordinary item in the day's work. No apology; no retraction; no explanation. Black was black in 1886. He, at risk of severing long friendships, said so, and was right. In 1893 black is white. He, anxious only for the prevalence of truth, says so, and is right again.

This would have been pretty picture for a July night; but anyone could have drawn it. In House of Commons it's as common as pastels on the pavement. Joseph went the step further that marks the wide gulf between genius and mediocrity. Having declared that in 1893 he, impelled by irresistible conscience and unfathomable love for his country, would vote against what in 1886 he (subject to same influence) described as the key of the position, Joey C. turned upon his right hon. friends on the Treasury Bench, and with manly emotion that brought tears to the eyes of the Member for Sark, deplored their inconsistency.

"What I like about Joseph," said the Member for Sark, "is his thoroughness. On finding himself in this new pit, he might have stopped at the bottom and said nothing till the storm had blown over. Or, thinking that a mean evasion, he might have defended the course he has adopted. Those are the alternatives presented to ordinary mankind: only to Joseph comes the idea of standing up and indignantly belabouring Mr. G. and John Morley for indulgence in the unpardonable sin of inconsistency!"

Business done.—Prince Arthur, Joseph, Sage of Queen Anne's Gate, and John Redmond, unite their forces against Government. Mr. G. saved by skin of the teeth and majority of 14.

Tuesday.—Tim Healy is an honest man and a loyal colleague. But we are all weak on some point. Temptation irresistible to Tim is to appropriate other people's rows. To-night's row distinctly and exclusively Sexton's. Yet Tim promptly came to the front, and remained there throughout the storm. The one clear impression amidst confusing uproar was that Tim was bobbing on top of the turbulence like a cork on the apex of a water-spout.

Brodrick began it, and while storm raged sat silent, astonished at his own moderation. Had merely remarked that the Irish people were impecunious and garrulous. As an Irishman himself ought to know something on point. Saunderson, another member of a gifted race, explained that, on the whole, he was inclined to regard remark as complimentary. Sexton, taking a different view, retorted with observation that Brodrick's language was grossly impertinent. Chairman, appealed to on point of order, gave a nice ruling. It is now established among Parliamentary precedents that the phrase "grossly impertinent," if addressed to an individual, is rank blasphemy; when applied to a thing 'tis but a choleric word. Committee might usefully have applied itself to consideration of this delicate distinction. "Instead of which," as the magistrate once said, it went about roaring like a famished lion.

For some minutes everyone seemed on his legs. Carmarthen had advantage over most Members by reason of his more than six feet length; Grandolph, feeling old emotions stirred within him, took prominent part in the fray; Mr. G., leaning across the table, fixed his glowing eyes on Grandolph, and warned him that his conduct was not calculated to assist the Committee in its dilemma; the voice of T. W. Russell was heard in the land; Prince Arthur had much to say; Dr. Tanner broke long silence with a shout; even Justin McCarthy was seen on his feet, and was howled at as if he had been discovered in the act of stealing the Chairman's pocket-handkerchief. But Tim topped them all. They were intermittent; he continuous. Whenever there was approach to pause in the clamour, Tim's strident voice filled it up with genial observation, "Name! Name!" they roared at him. "Drag him out," was the advice given by one forlorn legislator. In delirious delight of the rapturous hour Tim took no notice of these objurgations and interruptions. "It's not your funeral," an envious countryman snarled in his ear. Certainly not; but that should make no difference. Tim would improve the opportunity to whomsoever it might belong; and he did.

Business done.—None. But we had a cheerful row.

Thursday.—Some excellent speaking to-night, and a walking-match, in which, lap after lap, Government won. Wallace led off with speech sparkling with point; the more effective by contrast with stolid manner. House crowded and applausive; always grateful to have something fresh; get it from Wallace, both in manner and matter. Prince Arthur, following later, unusually bitter; pegged away at Bill and Government for half an hour, and sat down with assertion that such a Government was not worth attacking. Mr. G., who had listened to Wallace's home-thrusts with face appreciative of their humour, was unaccountably disturbed by Prince Arthur's commentaries. He sat immediately opposite, waiting to spring; meanwhile, with legs crossed and arms tightly folded, literally holding himself in. On his feet with catapultic force when Prince Arthur, gracefully gathering his skirts, sat down. A Government not worthy of attack. Ho! A Government that had failed to adhere to the main principles of its policy. Ha! But there was another Government which, in 1886, had denounced as dishonest a revision of judicial rents in Ireland, and a few months later had passed Bill revising them. Had Prince Arthur belonged to that Government? If so, how did he uplift this lofty standard of action, than which no Pharisee that ever lived in Judea carried it higher? This and much more Mr. G. declaimed at top of voice, with flashing eyes, and exuberant gestures, cheers and counter cheers filling House. Naturally Joseph followed with some kind words about "my right hon. friend." Squire of Malwood, long silent, could not resist temptation to plunge in. House went off to dinner exhausted by the tornado of bitter, brilliant speech.

Dull enough after dinner, when walking-match began. Performance announced for ten o'clock; began punctually; Mellor acted as starter. Course, round the Division Lobbies and back to seats. Time, by Benson's chronometer, varied from 16 mins. 25 secs. to 18 mins. 3 secs. Programme included eighteen races; numbered Clause 9 to 26 inclusive; betting 5 to 1 on Government to pull through; some uncertainty round first division; talk about plungers in Ministerial team; when made known that majority was 27, it was seen that Government were safe. Interest in subsequent races fell away as Government majority mounted up. For some of the events the Opposition did not appear at starting-post; Government walked over.

"Demmit, Douglas," said Lord Nom Toddy, coming in mopping his brow, after eighth Division, "this is not good enough. Next Thursday I shall send my man down, and let him do the walking round. No use keeping a dog and barking yourself."

Business done.—Clauses 9 to 26 added to Home-Rule Bill.

Friday.—Don't Keir Hardie made bold bid to-day for cheap advertisement. Motion for Address to Queen in congratulation on Royal Marriage. Don't Keir tacked himself on to performance with attempted Amendment on behalf of the poor and needy. Found no probability of anyone seconding his Amendment, which therefore could not be put. Still, served his purpose; suggested visions of portrait of Benefactor of the People (penny plain, twopence coloured) hung in all the cottage homes of England.

"Curious," says the Member for Sark, "how rapidly Don't Keir Hardie has played himself out; perhaps rather notable than curious. House of Commons is the quickest machine ever invented for taking the measure of a man. Has looked at Member for West Ham, measured him, weighed him, and set him aside. When, less than a year ago, he came down, with his brass band and his trumpets tootling, he was Don't Keir Hardie. Now, if I may say so, the boot's on the other leg; it's the House of Commons that Don't Keir for Hardie."

Business Done.—More about Home-Rule Scheme.

QUEER QUERIES.

A Municipal Hall.—I see the County Council are thinking of spending nearly a million of the ratepayers' money in buying a site for a municipal palace in Parliament Street, because the members—pending the time when they are all elected to the Legislature—want to be as close to it as possible. Why not let them be still closer, in Westminster Hall itself, which is now untenanted? Or if the members don't like that, why not make a working arrangement with the House of Commons to use that chamber in the mornings before the M.P.'s come down to it? This would be something like an "in-and-out" clause, and would save no end of money.

True Economist.

Rewards to Raconteurs.—I am considered a first-rate storyteller and conversationalist; indeed, few dinner parties (at Lower Tooting) can get on without me. Do you think I could get elected to the Reform Club without paying the entrance subscription? I see that some members of that club have been left £2000 each as a reward for "brightening the evenings" of a deceased member, and I feel certain that had the testator known me, he would have increased my legacy to £4000 at least. My sparkling powers of conversation are often called a "gift," but I don't want them to be a gift if I could get anything for them.

Sydney Macaulay Hayward Smith.

Present! Fire! Bang-Kok!—"Three Frenchmen killed, two wounded; twenty Siamese killed, and twelve wounded,"—such is the first result of French Humann-ising influence in Siam.

A New Maritime Resort.—"I'm sure," observed Mrs. R., "that a really pleasant thing to do in the summer holidays would be to take a trip to the Specific Islands."

The Greatest Authority on the Working of the "In-and-Out" Clauses.—Mr. Sexton, M.P.!

Going Against the Grein.—Refusing to patronise the Independent Theatre.

French Billiards at Siam.—The Cannon Game.