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  MR. PUNCH IN BOHEMIA

  PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR

Edited by J. A. HAMMERTON

Designed to provide in a series of volumes, each complete in itself, the
cream of our national humour, contributed by the masters of comic
draughtsmanship and the leading wits of the age to "Punch," from its
beginning in 1841 to the present day.

       *       *       *       *       *

MR. PUNCH IN BOHEMIA

[Illustration]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SHAKSPEARE ILLUSTRATED

        "Tedious as a twice-told tale,
    Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man."

      _King John._ Act III., Sc. 4.]

       *       *       *       *       *

MR. PUNCH IN BOHEMIA

OR THE LIGHTER SIDE OF LITERARY, ARTISTIC AND PROFESSIONAL LIFE

[Illustration]

AS PICTURED BY

PHIL MAY, CHARLES KEENE, GEORGE DU MAURIER, DUDLEY HARDY, FRED PEGRAM,
F. H. TOWNSEND, LEWIS BAUMER, L. RAVEN-HILL, J. BERNARD PARTRIDGE, E.
T. REED, H. M. BROCK, C. E. BROCK, TOM BROWNE, GUNNING KING, HARRY
FURNISS, A. WALLIS MILLS, G. L. STAMPA, AND OTHERS

_156 ILLUSTRATIONS_

PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH

THE PROPRIETORS OF "PUNCH"

THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR

_Twenty-five Volumes, crown 8vo, 192 pages fully illustrated_

LIFE IN LONDON

COUNTRY LIFE

IN THE HIGHLANDS

SCOTTISH HUMOUR

IRISH HUMOUR

COCKNEY HUMOUR

IN SOCIETY

AFTER DINNER STORIES

IN BOHEMIA

AT THE PLAY

MR. PUNCH AT HOME

ON THE CONTINONG

RAILWAY BOOK

AT THE SEASIDE

MR. PUNCH AFLOAT

IN THE HUNTING FIELD

MR. PUNCH ON TOUR

WITH ROD AND GUN

MR. PUNCH AWHEEL

BOOK OF SPORTS

GOLF STORIES

IN WIG AND GOWN

ON THE WARPATH

BOOK OF LOVE

WITH THE CHILDREN

[Illustration]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE WAY TO BOHEMIA

[Illustration]

Time was when Bohemianism was synonymous with soiled linen and unkempt
locks. But those days of the ragged Bohemia have happily passed away,
and that land of unconventional life--which had finally grown
conventional in its characteristics--has now become "a sphere of
influence" of Modern Society! In a word, it is now respectable. There
are those who firmly believe it has been wiped off the social map. The
dress suit and the proprieties are thought by some to be incompatible
with its existence. But it is not so; the new Bohemia is surely no less
delightful than the old. The way to it is through the doors of almost
any of the well-known literary and art clubs of London. Its inhabitants
are our artists, our men of letters, our musicians, and, above all, our
actors.

In the present volume we are under the guidance of Mr. Punch, himself
the very flower of London's Bohemia, into this land of light-hearted
laughter and the free-and-easy manner of living. We shall follow him
chiefly through the haunts of the knights of the pen and pencil, as we
have another engagement to spend some agreeable hours with him in the
theatrical and musical world. It should be noted, however, that we shall
not be limited to what has been called "Upper Bohemia", but that we
shall, thanks to his vast experience, be able to peep both at the old
and new.

Easily first amongst the artists who have depicted the humours of
Bohemia is Phil May. Keene and Du Maurier run him close, but their
Bohemia is on the whole more artistic, less breezily, raggedly, hungrily
unconventional than his. It is a subject that has inspired him with some
of his best jokes, and some of his finest drawings.

[Illustration]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration]

MR. PUNCH IN BOHEMIA

THE INVALID AUTHOR.--_Wife._ "Why, nurse is reading a book, darling! Who
gave it her?" _Husband._ "_I_ did, my dear." _Wife._ "What book is it?"
_Husband._ "It's my last." _Wife._ "Darling! When you _knew_ how
important it is that _she shouldn't go to sleep_!"

       *       *       *       *       *

A BOOKWORM'S OBSERVATION.--When a man has got turned of 70, he is in the
appendix of life.

       *       *       *       *       *

TABLE OF CONTENTS.--The dinner table.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE GRUB AND THE BUTTERFLY

   I.

"All right, sir. I'll just wash 'er face, sir, and then she shall come
round to your stoodio, sir."

  II.

"Here's a little girl come for you, sir!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

PUNCH'S PROVERBS

  Most sticks have two ends, and a muff gets hold of the wrong one.

  The good boy studies his lesson; the bad boy gets it.

  If sixpence were sunshine, it would never be lost in the giving.

  The man that is happy in all things will rejoice in potatoes.

  Three removes are better than a dessert.

  Dinner deferred maketh the hungry man mad.

  Bacon without liver is food for the mind.

  Forty winks or five million is one sleep.

  You don't go to the Mansion House for skilligolee.

  Three may keep counsel if they retain a barrister.

  What is done cannot be underdone.

  You can't make a pair of shoes out of a pig's tail.

  Dinner hour is worth every other, except bedtime.

  No hairdresser puts grease into a wise man's head.

  An upright judge for a downright rogue.

  Happiness is the hindmost horse in the Derby.

  Look before you sit.

  Bear and forebear is Bruin and tripe.

  Believe twice as much as you hear of a lady's age.

  Content is the conjuror that turns mock-turtle into real.

  There is no one who perseveres in well-doing like a thorough humbug.

  The loosest fish that drinks is tight.

  Education won't polish boots.

  Experience is the mother of gumption.

  Half-a-crown is better than no bribe.

  Utopia hath no law.

  There is no cruelty in whipping cream.

  Care will kill a cat; carelessness a Christian.

  He who lights his candle at both ends, spills grease.

  Keep your jokes to yourself, and repeat other people's.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE BEST TEXT-BOOK FOR PUGILISTS.--Knox on anatomy.

       *       *       *       *       *

ACROBATS' TIPPLE.--Champagne in tumblers.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: WHAT OUR ARTIST HAS TO PUT UP WITH.--_Fond Mother._ "I
_do_ wish you would look over some of my little boy's sketches, and give
me your candid opinion on them. They strike me as perfectly marvellous
for one so young. The other day he drew a horse and cart, and, I can
assure you, you could scarcely tell the difference."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: OUR SMOKING CONCERT

_Irate Member._ "Well, I'll take my oath I came in a hat!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

EDITORS

     ["Editors, behind their officialism, are human just like other
     folks, for they think and they work, they laugh and they play, they
     marry--just as others do. The best of them are brimful of human
     nature, sympathetic and kindly, and full of the zest of life and
     its merry ways."--_Round About_.]

To look at, the ordinary editor is so like a human being that it takes
an expert to tell the difference.

When quite young they make excellent pets, but for some strange reason
people never confess that they have editors in the house.

Marriage is not uncommon among editors, and monogamy is the rule rather
than the exception.

The chief hobby of an editor is the collection of stamped addressed
envelopes, which are sent to him in large numbers. No one knows why he
should want so many of these, but we believe he is under the impression
that by collecting a million of them he will be able to get a child into
some hospital.

Of course in these enlightened days it is illegal to shoot editors,
while to destroy their young is tantamount to murder.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Country Cousin_ (_looking at Index of R. A. Catalogue_).
"Uncle, what does 1, 3, 6, 8, after a man's name, mean?"

_Uncle_ (_who has been dragged there much against his will_). "Eh! What?
1, 3---- Oh, _Telephone number_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: IN THE ARTIST'S ROOM.--_Potztausend._ "My friend, it is
kolossal! most remark-worthy! You remind me on Rubinstein; but you are
better as he." _Pianist (pleased)._ "Indeed! How?" _Potztausend._ "In de
bersbiration. My friend Rubinstein could never bersbire so moch!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: BROTHERS IN ART.--_New Arrival._ "What should I charge
for teaching ze pianoforte?" _Old Stager._ "Oh, I don't know." _N. A._
"Vell, tell me vot _you_ charge." _O. S._ "_I_ charge five guineas a
lesson." _N. A._ "Himmel! how many pupils have you got?" _O. S._ "Oh, I
have no pupils!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

A DIVISION OF LABOUR

     ["_Journalism._--Gentleman (barrister) offers furnished bedroom in
     comfortable, cheerful chambers in Temple in return for equivalent
     journalistic assistance, &c."--_Times._]

The "equivalent" is rather a nice point. _Mr. Punch_ suggests for other
gentlemen barristers the following table of equivalence:--

  1 furnished bedroom.      = {1 introduction (by letter) to
                              {sub-editor of daily paper.

  1 furnished bedroom}      = {1 introduction (personal) to
  with use of bath.  }        {sub-editor.

                              {1 introduction and interview
  1 bed-sitting-room.       = { (five minutes guaranteed)
                              {with editor.

  2 furnished rooms.}       = {1 lunch (cold) with Dr.
                              {Robertson Nicoll.

  2 furnished rooms, with}  = {1 lunch (hot) with Dr. Nicoll
  use of bath.           }    {and Claudius Clear.

  1 furnished flat, with  }   {1 bridge night with Lord
  all modern conveniences,} = {Northcliffe, Sir George
  electric light,         }   {Newnes, and Mr. C. A.
  trams to the corner, &c.}   {Pearson.

       *       *       *       *       *

When is an author most likely to be sick of his own writing?

When he's regularly _in the swing_.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: DRINK TO ME ONLY WITH THINE EYES

SONGS AND THEIR SINGERS]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Little Griggs_ (_to caricaturist_). "By Jove, old
feller, I wish you'd been with me this morning; you'd have seen such a
funny looking chap!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: (_Model wishing to say something pleasant._) "You must
have painted uncommonly well when you were young!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

DINNER AND DRESS.--Full dress is not incompatible with low dress. At
dinner it is not generally the roast or the boiled that are not dressed
enough. If young men are raw, that does not much signify but it is not
nice to see girls underdone.

       *       *       *       *       *

A CHEAP BATH.--A farthing dip.

       *       *       *       *       *

"LIGHT DUES."--Photographers' charges.

       *       *       *       *       *

"LETTERED EASE."--The catalogue of the British Museum.

       *       *       *       *       *

A PROFESSIONAL VIEW OF THINGS.--Trecalfe, our bookseller, who has
recently got married, says of his wife, that he feels that her life is
bound up in his.

       *       *       *       *       *

TAVERN WINE MEASURE

  2 sips      make  1 glass.
  2 glasses   make  1 pint.
  2 pints     makes 1 quart bottle.
  1 bottle    makes one ill.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE BOARDING-OUT SYSTEM.--Dining at the club.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Mrs. Mashem._ "_Bull-bull_ and I have been sitting for
our photographs as 'Beauty and the Beast'!"

_Lord Loreus_ (_a bit of a fancier_). "Yes; he certainly _is_ a beauty,
isn't he?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

SHORT RULES FOR CALCULATION.--_To Find the Value of a Dozen
Articles._--Send them to a magazine, and double the sum offered by the
proprietor.

_Another Way._--Send them to the butterman, who will not only fix their
value, but their weight, at per pound.

_To Find the Value of a Pound at any price._--Try to borrow one, when
you are desperately hard up.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Member of the Lyceum Club._ Have you read Tolstoi's "Resurrection"?

_Member of the Cavalry Club._ No. Is that the name of Marie Corelli's
new book?

       *       *       *       *       *

CONVIVIAL TOAST (_For a Temperance Fete_)

FILL high: Drink _L'eau_.

       *       *       *       *       *

_First Reveller_ (_on the following morning_). "I say, is it true you
were the only sober man last night?"

_Second Reveller._ "Of course not!"

_First Reveller._ "Who was, then?"

       *       *       *       *       *

AN UGLY BARGAIN.--A cheap bull-dog.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE DUMAS CRAZE

_Brown_ (_who, with his friends Jones and Robinson, is in town for a
week and is "going it"_). "Now, Mr. Costumier, we are going to this 'ere
ball, and we want you to make us hup as the Three Musketeers!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A CHEERFUL PROSPECT.--_Jones._ "I say, Miss Golightly,
it's awfully good of you to accompany me, you know. If I've tried this
song once, I've tried it a dozen times--_and I've always broken down in
the third verse!_"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: BEYOND PRAISE.--_Roscius._ "But you haven't got a word of
praise for anyone. I should like to know who you would consider a
finished artist?"

_Criticus._ "A dead one, my boy--a dead one!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

STALE NEWS FRESHLY TOLD.--A physician cannot obtain recovery of his
fees, although he may cause the recovery of his patient.

Dress may be seized for rent, and a coat without cuffs may be collared
by the broker.

A married woman can acquire nothing, the proper tie of marriage making
all she has the proper-ty of her husband.

You may purchase any stamp at the stamp-office, except the stamp of a
gentleman.

Pawnbrokers take such enormous interest in their little pledges, that if
they were really pledges of affection, the interest taken could hardly
be exceeded.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE AUTHORS OF OUR OWN PLEASURES.--Next to the pleasure of having done a
good action, there is nothing so sweet as the pleasure of having written
a good article!

       *       *       *       *       *

CHANGE FOR THE BETTER.--When the organ nuisance shall have been swept
away from our streets, that fearful instrument of ear-piercing torture
called the hurdy-gurdy will then (thank Parliament!) be known as the
_un-heardy_-gurdy.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: MY MOTHER BIDS ME BIND MY HAIR

SONGS AND THEIR SINGERS]

       *       *       *       *       *

A FEW GOLDEN RULES TRANSMUTED INTO BRASS

THE GOLDEN RULE.

1. Never put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day.

2. Never trouble another for a trifle which you can do yourself.

3. Never spend your money before you have it, if you would make the most
of your means.

4. Nothing is troublesome that we do willingly.

THE BRAZEN RULE.

1. Put off till to-morrow the dun who won't be done to-day.

2. When another would trouble you for a trifle, never trouble yourself.

3. Spend your money before you have it; and when you have it, spend it
again, for by so doing you enjoy your means twice, instead of only once.

4. You have only to do a creditor willingly, and he will never be
troublesome.

       *       *       *       *       *

A LITERARY PURSUIT.--Chasing a newspaper in a high wind.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE TRUE TEST.--

_First Screever_ (_stopping before a pastel in a picture dealer's
window_). "Ullo 'Erbert, look 'ere! Chalks!"

_Second Screever._ "Ah, very tricky, I dessay. But you set that chap on
the pivement alongside o' you an' me, to dror 'arf a salmon an' a nempty
'at, an' where 'ud 'e be?"

_First Screever._ "Ah!"]

    [_Exeunt ambo._

       *       *       *       *       *

MUSICAL NEWS (NOOSE).--We perceive from a foreign paper that a criminal
who has been imprisoned for a considerable period at Presburg has
acquired a complete mastery over the violin. It has been announced that
he will shortly make an appearance in public. Doubtless, his performance
will be _a solo on one string_.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Sporting Prophet_ (_playing billiards_). Marker, here's the tip off
this cue as usual.

_Marker._ Yes, sir. Better give us one of your "tips," sir, as _they
never come off_.

       *       *       *       *       *

ART DOGMA.--An artist's wife never admires her husband's work so much as
when he is drawing her a cheque.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE UNITED EFFORT OF SIX ROYAL ACADEMICIANS.--What colour is it that
contains several? An umber (_a number_).

       *       *       *       *       *

MEM. AT BURLINGTON HOUSE.--A picture may be "capitally executed" without
of necessity being "well hung." And _vice versa_.

       *       *       *       *       *

A SCHISM TO BE APPROVED OF.--A witticism.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: EXCELSIOR!--

_She._ "I didn't know you were a _musician_, Herr Mueller."

_He._ "A musician? Ach, no--Gott vorpit! I am a _Wagnerian_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

AN AUTHOR'S CRY OF AGONY

(_Wrung from him by the repeated calls of the printer's boy_)

"Oh! that devils' visits were, like angels', 'few and far between!'"

       *       *       *       *       *

RIDDLES BY A WRETCH.--_Q._ What is the difference between a surgeon and
a wizard?

_A._ The one is a cupper and the other is a sorcerer.

_Q._ Why is America like the act of reflection?

_A._ Because it is a roomy-nation.

_Q._ Why is your pretty cousin like an alabaster vase?

_A._ Because she is an _objet de looks_.

_Q._ How is it that a man born in Truro can never be an Irishman?

_A._ Because he always is a true-Roman.

_Q._ Why is my game cock like a bishop?

_A._ Because he has his crows here (_crozier_).

       *       *       *       *       *

COUPLET BY A CYNIC

(_After reading certain Press Comments on the Picture Show_)

    Philistine art may stand all critic shocks
    Whilst it gives private views--of pretty frocks!

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: RETALIATION.--

_Comic Man_ (_to unappreciated tenor, whose song has just been received
in stony silence_). "I say, you're not going to sing an encore, are
you?"

_Unappreciated Tenor_ (_firmly_). "Yes, I am. _Serve them right!_"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AN INDUCEMENT.--

_Swedish Exercise Instructress._ "Now, ladies, if you will only follow
my directions carefully, it is quite possible that you may become even
as I am!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: MORE SWEDISH INSTRUCTION.--

_Instructress_ (_to exhausted class, who have been hopping round room
for some time_). "Come! Come! That won't do at all. You _must_ look
cheerful. Keep smiling--smiling all the time!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

A BATCH OF PROOFS

  The proof of a pudding is in the eating:
  The proof of a woman is in making a pudding;
  And the proof of a man is in being able to dine without one.

       *       *       *       *       *

A REFLECTION ON LITERATURE.--It is a well-authenticated fact, that the
name of a book has a great deal to do with its sale and its success. How
strange that titles should go for so much in the republic of letters.

       *       *       *       *       *

MOTTO FOR THE REJECTED AT THE ROYAL ACADEMY (_suggested by one of the
Forty_).--"Hanging's too good for them!"

       *       *       *       *       *

SUGGESTION FOR A MUSIC-HALL SONG (_to suit any Lionne Comique_).--"Wink
at _me only_ with one eye," &c., &c.

       *       *       *       *       *

AMPLE GROUNDS FOR COMPLAINT.--Finding the grounds of your coffee to
consist of nothing but chicory.

       *       *       *       *       *

A SMILING COUNTENANCE is "The happy mien."

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Publisher_ (_impatiently_). "Well, sir, what is it?"

_Poet_ (_timidly_). "O--er--are you Mr. Jobson?"

_Publisher_ (_irritably_). "Yes."

_Poet_ (_more timidly_). "Mr. _George_ Jobson?"

_Publisher_ (_excitably_). "Yes, sir, that's my name."

_Poet_ (_more timidly still_). "Of the firm of Messrs. Jobson and
Doodle?"

_Publisher_ (_angrily_). "Yes. What do you want?"

_Poet_ "Oh--I want to see Mr. Doodle!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: OUR ORCHESTRAL SOCIETY.--_The Rector._ "Oh, _piano_, Mr.
Brown! _Pi-an-o!_"

_Mr. Brown._ "_Piano_ be blowed! I've come here to enjoy myself!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Customer._--"Have you 'How to be happy though married'?"

_Bookseller._ "No, sir. We have run out at present of the work you
mention; but we are selling this little book by the hundred."]

       *       *       *       *       *

A LETTER TO A YOUNG PUBLISHER

Since, my dear Jones, you are good enough to ask for my advice, need I
say that your success in business will depend chiefly upon judicious
advertisement? You are bringing out, I understand, a thrilling story of
domestic life, entitled "Maria's Marriage." Already, I am glad to learn,
you have caused a paragraph to appear in the literary journals
contradicting "the widespread report that Mr. Kipling and the German
Emperor have collaborated in the production of this novel, the
appearance of which is awaited with such extraordinary interest." And
you have induced a number of papers to give prominence to the fact that
Mr. Penwiper dines daily off curry and clotted cream. So far, so good.
Your next step will be to send out review-copies, together with
ready-made laudatory criticisms; in order, as you will explain, to save
the hard worked reviewers trouble. But, you will say, supposing this
ingenious device to fail? Supposing "Maria's Marriage" to be
universally "slated"? Well, even then you need not despair. With a
little practice, you will learn the art of manufacturing an attractive
advertisement column from the most unpromising material. Let me give you
a brief example of the method:--

I.--THE RAW MATERIAL.

"Mr. Penwiper's latest production, 'Maria's Marriage,' scarcely calls
for serious notice. It seems hard to believe that even the most tolerant
reader will contrive to study with attention a work of which every page
contains glaring errors of taste. Humour, smartness, and interest are
all conspicuously wanting."--_The Thunderer._

"This book is undeniably third-rate--dull, badly-written, incoherent; in
fine, a dismal failure."--_The Wigwam._

"If 'Maria's Marriage' has any real merit, it is as an object-lesson to
aspiring authors. Here, we would say to them, is a striking example of
the way in which romance should not be written. Set yourself to produce
a work exactly its opposite in every particular, and the chances are
that you will produce, if not a masterpiece, at least, a tale free from
the most glaring faults. For the terrible warning thus afforded by his
volume to budding writers, Mr. Penwiper deserves to be heartily
thanked."--_Daily Telephone._

"'Maria's Marriage' is another book that we have received in the course
of the month."--_The Parachute._

II.--THE RESULT.

"Maria's Marriage!" "Maria's Marriage!"

Gigantic Success--The Talk of London.

The 29th edition will be issued this week if the sale of twenty-eight
previous ones makes this necessary. Each edition is strictly limited!

"Maria's Marriage!"

The voice of the Press is simply _unanimous_. Read the following
extracts--taken almost at random from the reviews of leading papers.

"Mr. Penwiper's latest production ... calls for serious notice ... the
reader will ... study with attention a work of which every page contains
taste, humour, smartness and interest!"--_The Thunderer._

"Undeniably ... fine!"--_The Wigwam._

"Has ... real merit ... an object lesson ... a striking example of the
way in which romance ... should be written. A masterpiece ... free from
faults. Mr. Penwiper deserves to be heartily thanked."--_Daily
Telephone._

"The book ... of the month!"--_The Parachute_, &c., &c.

"Maria's Marriage!" A veritable triumph! Order it from your bookseller
to-day!

That, my dear Jones, is how the trick is done. I hope to give you some
further hints on a future occasion.

       *       *       *       *       *

"PRAY, AFTER YOU," as the glass of water said to the pill.

       *       *       *       *       *

TRUISM FOR TEETOTALERS.--When a man is _out_ of spirits--he should take
wine.

       *       *       *       *       *

A NEEDLESS QUESTION.--"Do you want a loan?"

       *       *       *       *       *

THE BRITISH "PUBLIC."--The beer-shop.

       *       *       *       *       *

MORNING ENVELOPES.--Dressing gowns.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "_Operator_" (_desperately, after half an hour's
fruitless endeavour to make a successful "picture" from unpromising
sitter_). "Suppose, madam, we try a pose with just the _least_
suggestion of--er--_sauciness_?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: GUSHING HOSPITALITY. (Time 3 p.m.).--_Hospitable Host._
"Have c'gar, old f'lla?"

_Languid Visitor._ "No--thanks."

_H. H._ "Cigarette then?"

_His Visitor._ "No--thanks. Nevar smoke 'mejately after breakfast."

_H. H._ "Can't refuse a toothpick, then, old f'lla?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: PROPORTIONS.--_Buyer._ "In future, as my collection
increases, and my wall-space is limited, and price no object, perhaps
you would let me have a little more 'picture,' and a little less
'mount'!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: INGENUOUS!--_Jones_ (_to his fair partner, after their
opponents have declared "clubs"_). "Shall I play to 'clubs', partner?"

_Fair Partner_ (_who has never played bridge before_). "Oh, no, please
don't, Mr. Jones. I've only got two little ones."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _She._ "And are all these lovely things about which you
write imaginary?"

_The Poet._ "Oh, no, Miss Ethel. I have only to open my eyes and I see
something beautiful before me."

_She._ "Oh, how I wish I could say the same!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AT THE R.A.--_First Painter._ "I've just been showing my
aunt round. Most amusing. Invariably picks out the wrong pictures to
admire and denounces the good ones!"

_Second Painter._ "Did she say anything about mine?"

_First Painter._ "Oh, she liked yours!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "I say, old man, I've invented a new drink. Big success!
Come and try it."

"What's it made of?"

"Well, it's something like the ordinary whisky and soda, but you put
more whisky in it!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A PROPHET IN HIS OWN COUNTRY

_Sylvia._ "I wonder whether he'll be a soldier or a sailor?"

_Mamma._ "Wouldn't you like him to be an artist, like papa?"

_Sylvia._ "Oh, one in the family's quite enough!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

"THE BITTER END."--The last half inch of a halfpenny cigar.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE WORST POSSIBLE NAME FOR AN AUTHOR.--Dr. Dozy.

       *       *       *       *       *

Why oughtn't a boot and shoemaker to be trusted?

Because he's a slippery customer.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE RACE FOR WEALTH.--Jews.

       *       *       *       *       *

BASSO PROFONDO.--A deep draught of bitter beer.

       *       *       *       *       *

EXERCISE FOR CITY CLERKS.--A run on a Bank.

       *       *       *       *       *

PASSING THE TIME.--Going by a clock.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: Coming off with flying colours]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THY FACE

SONGS AND THEIR SINGERS]

       *       *       *       *       *

LITERARY NOTES

A well-known diner-out has, we learn, collected his reminiscences, and
would be glad to hear from some obliging gentleman or gentlemen who
would "earnestly request" him to publish them.

We should add that no names would be mentioned, the preface merely
opening as follows:--

     "Although these stray gleanings of past years are of but ephemeral
     value, and though they were collected with no thought of
     publication, the writer at the earnest request of a friend" (or
     "many friends," if more than one) "has reluctantly consented to
     give his scattered reminiscences to the world."

       *       *       *       *       *

The following volumes in "The Biter Bit" series are announced as shortly
to appear:--

"The Fighter Fit; or practical hints on pugilistic training."

"The Lighter Lit: a treatise on the illumination of Thames barges."

"The Slighter Slit: or a new and economical method of cutting out."

"The Tighter Tit: studies in the comparative inebriation of birds."

[Illustration: Some fine form was exhibited]

[Illustration: A two-figure break]

[Illustration: A heat of 500 up]

[Illustration: Finishing the game with a cannon]

[Illustration: Opening with the customary miss]

[Illustration: Spot barred]

BILLIARD NOTES BY DUMB-CRAMBO

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SENDING-IN-DAY AT THE R. A.

"But it is impossible for you to see the President. What do you want to
see him for?"

"I want to show him exactly where I want my picture hung."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Millionaire._ "Yes; I'm awful partial to picters. Why,
bless yer, I've got _cellars_ full of 'em!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "THE EXHIBITION"]

_Infuriated Outsider._ "R-r-r-rejected, sir!----Fwanospace, sir!" (_With
withering emphasis._) "'Want--of--space--sir!!"

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "Look here, Schlumpenhagen, you must help us at our
smoking concert. You play the flute, don't you?"

"Not ven dere ish anypotty apout."

"How's that?"

"Dey _von't let me_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

ROCHEFOUCAULDIANA

There is no sympathy in England so universally felt, so largely
expressed, as for a person who is likely to catch cold.

       *       *       *       *       *

When a person loses his reputation, the very last place where he goes to
look for it is the place where he has lost it.

       *       *       *       *       *

No gift so fatal as that of singing. The principal question asked, upon
insuring a man's life, should be, "Do you sing a good song?"

       *       *       *       *       *

Many of us are led by our vices, but a great many more of us follow them
without any leading at all.

       *       *       *       *       *

To show how deceptive are appearances, more gentlemen are mistaken for
waiters, than waiters for gentlemen.

       *       *       *       *       *

To a retired tradesman there can be no greater convenience than that of
having a "short sight." In truth, wealth rarely improves the vision.
Poverty, on the contrary, strengthens it. A man, when he is poor, is
able to discover objects at the greatest distance with the naked eye,
which he could not see, though standing close to his elbow, when he was
rich.

       *       *       *       *       *

If you wish to set a room full of silent people off talking, get some
one to sing a song.

       *       *       *       *       *

The bore is happy enough in boring others, but is never so miserable as
when left alone, when there is no one but himself to bore.

       *       *       *       *       *

The contradictions of this life are wonderful. Many a man, who hasn't
the courage to say "no," never misses taking a shower-bath every morning
of his life.

       *       *       *       *       *

If you wish to borrow L5 ask for L10.

       *       *       *       *       *

WHAT BROWN SAID

SCENE--_Hall of the Elysium Club_

_Enter_ Smith, F.R.S., _meeting_ Brown, Q.C.

_Smith._ Raw day, eh?

_Brown._ Very _raw_. Glad when it's _done_.

     [_Exit_ Brown, Q.C. _Exit_ Smith, F.R.S., _into smoking-room, where
     he tells a good thing that_ Brown _said_.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AT THE ACADEMY

_Miss Jones._ "How came you to think of the subject, Mr. de Brush?"

_Eccentric Artist._ "Oh, I have had it in my head for years!"

_Miss Jones._ "How wonderful! What did the papers say?"

_Eccentric Artist._ "Said it was full of 'atmosphere,' and suggested
'space.'"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: INTELLIGENT!--_Artist_ (_who thinks he has found a good
model for his Touchstone_). "Have you any sense of humour, Mr. Bingles?"

_Model._ "Thank y' sir, no, sir, thank y'. I enj'ys pretty good 'ealth,
sir, thank y' sir!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE PERILS OF A CONVERSAZIONE

_Miss Fillip_ (_to gentleman whose name she did not catch when
introduced_). Have you read _A Modern Heliogabolus_?

_He._ Yes, I have.

_Miss F._ All through?

_He._ Yes, from beginning to end.

_Miss F._ Dear me! I wonder you're alive! How did you manage to get
through it?

_He_ (_diffidently_). Unfortunately, I wrote it.

[_Miss F. catches a distant friend's eye._

       *       *       *       *       *

THE SOUND SLEEPER'S PARADISE.--Snoring.

       *       *       *       *       *

_PATENT_ NIGHT-LIGHTS.--Stars.

       *       *       *       *       *

EPITAPH ON A CHAMPION BILLIARD PLAYER.--"Taking his long rest."

       *       *       *       *       *

TONED PAPER.--Sheets of music.

       *       *       *       *       *

ITEM ON A MENU OF LITERARY PABULUM.--"Shakspeare and Bacon."

       *       *       *       *       *

RACE GLASSES.--Champagne.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE MAID OF THE MILL.--A lady boxer.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SENTIMENT.--(_Artistic-minded Youth in midst of a fierce
harangue from his father, who is growing hotter and redder_). "By Jove,
that's a fine bit of colour, if you like!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "What an ass old Brown is!"

"Oh, I don't know. He's got far more brains than appear on the
surface."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Art-Master_ (_who has sent for a cab, pointing to
horse_). "What do you call that?"

_Cabby._ "An 'orse, sir."

_Art-Master._ "A horse! Rub it out, and do it again!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

A PARCEL OF PROVERBS, &c. COMPLETED

  Take time by the forelock--to have his hair cut.

  Follow your leader--in your daily paper.

  The proof of the pudding is in the eating--a great deal of it.

  Never look a gift-horse in the mouth--lest you should find false teeth.

  The hare with many friends--was eaten at last.

  A stitch in time saves nine--or more naughty words, when a button comes
  off while you are dressing in a great hurry for dinner.

  One man's meat is another man's poison--when badly cooked.

  Don't count your chickens before they are hatched--by the patent
  incubator.

  Love is blind--and unwilling to submit to an operation.

  First catch your hare--then cook it with rich gravy.

  Nil Desperandum--PERCY VERE.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: NON-COMMITTAL.--

Scene: _Fashionable Auction Rooms. A Picture Sale._--

_Amateur Collector_ (_after taking advice of Expert No. 1, addresses
Expert No. 2_). "What do you think of the picture? I am advised to buy
it. Is it not a fine Titian?"

_Expert No. 2_ (_wishing to please both parties_). "I don't think you
can go far wrong, for anyhow, if it isn't a Titian it's a repe-tition."]

       *       *       *       *       *

ANOTHER PARCEL OF PROVERBS

  If the cap fits, wear it--out.

  Six of one, and half-a-dozen of the other--make exactly twelve.

  None so deaf as those who won't hear--hear! hear!

  Faint heart never won fair lady--nor dark one either.

  Civility costs nothing--nay, is something to your credit.

  The best of friends must part--their hair.

  Any port in a storm--but old port preferred.

  One good turn deserves another--in waltzing.

  Youth at the prow and pleasure at the helm--very sea-sick.

       *       *       *       *       *

"LEADING STRINGS."--Those of a first violin in an orchestra.

       *       *       *       *       *

TOBACCO STOPPERS.--Men who stay to smoke.

       *       *       *       *       *

SMOKER'S PROVERB.--It's an ill weed that blows nobody any good.

A _TIDY_ DRINK.--_Neat_ brandy.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Amateur_ "_Minimus Poet_" (_who has called at the office
twice a week for three months_). "Could you use a little poem of mine?"

_Editor_ (_ruthlessly determined that this shall be his final visit_).
"Oh, I think so. There are two or three broken panes of glass, and a
hole in the skylight. How large is it?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

MOTTO FOR A SUB-EDITOR.--"Aut _scissors_, aut nullus."

       *       *       *       *       *

_To find the value of a Cook._--Divide the services rendered by the
wages paid; deduct the kitchen stuff, subtract the cold meat by finding
how often three policemen will go into one area, and the quotient will
help you to the result.

_To find the value of a Friend._--Ask him to put his name to a bill.

_To find the value of Time._--Travel by a Bayswater omnibus.

_To find the value of Eau de Cologne._--Walk into Smithfield market.

_To find the value of Patience._--Consult Bradshaw's _Guide_ to
ascertain the time of starting of a railway train.

       *       *       *       *       *

NOTE BY A SOCIAL CYNIC.--They may abolish the "push" stroke at
billiards, but they'll never do so in society.

       *       *       *       *       *

FROM OUR OWN IRREPRESSIBLE ONE (_still dodging custody_).--_Q._ Why is a
daily paper like a lamb? _A._ Because it is always folded.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: DUTY BEFORE PLEASURE.--_Hostess_ (_to new Curate_). "We
seem to be talking of nothing but horses, Mr. Soothern. Are you much of
a sportsman?"

_Curate._ "Really, Lady Betty, I don't think I ought to say that I am. I
used to collect butterflies; but I have to give up even _that_ now!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SHAKSPEARE ILLUSTRATED

"The gods confound thee! Dost thou hold there still?"
        _Antony and Cleopatra_, Act II., Sc. 5.]

       *       *       *       *       *

"STILL WATERS."--Whiskies.

       *       *       *       *       *

ART CRITICISM.--In too many pictures the colour is medi-ocre.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE ADVERTISER'S PARADISE.--Puffin Island.

       *       *       *       *       *

A MUSICAL BURGLAR.--One who breaks into a tune.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: HE KNEW HIS WORK

_Proprietor of Travelling Menagerie._ "Are you used to looking after
horses and other animals?"

_Applicant for Job._ "Yessir. Been used to 'orses all my life."

_P. O. T. M._ "What steps would you take if a lion got loose?"

_A. F. J._ "Good long 'uns, mister!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

MAY BE HEARD EVERYWHERE.--"Songs without words"--a remarkable
performance; but perhaps a still more wonderful feat is playing upon
words.

       *       *       *       *       *

SUBSTITUTES FOR PROFANE SWEARING

(_Adapted to various Sorts and Conditions of Men_)

_Lawyer._ Tax my bill.

_Doctor._ Dash my draughts.

_Soldier_. Snap my stock.

_Parson._ Starch my surplice.

_Bricklayer._ I'll be plastered.

_Bricklayer's Labourer._ Chop my hod.

_Carpenter._ Saw me.

_Plumber and Glazier._ Solder my pipes. Smash my panes.

_Painter._ I'm daubed.

_Brewer._ I'm mashed.

_Engineer._ Burst my boiler.

_Stoker._ Souse my coke.

_Costermonger._ Rot my taturs.

_Dramatic Author._ Steal my French Dictionary.

_Actor._ I'll be hissed.

_Tailor._ Cut me out. Cook my goose.

_Linendraper._ Soil my silks. Sell me off.

_Grocer._ Squash my figs. Sand my sugar. Seize my scales.

_Baker._ Knead my dough. Scorch my muffins.

_Auctioneer._ Knock me down.

       *       *       *       *       *

"THE PLAYERS ARE COME!"--_First Player_ (_who has had a run of
ill-luck_). I'm regularly haunted by the recollection of my losses at
baccarat.

_Second Player._ Quite Shakespearian! "Banco's ghost."

       *       *       *       *       *

SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR.--(_From the Literary Club Smoking-room._)
_Cynicus._ I'm waiting till my friends are dead, in order to write my
reminiscences?

_Amicus._ Ah, but remember. "_De mortuis nil nisi bonum._"

_Cynicus._ Quite so. I shall tell nothing but exceedingly good stories
about them.

       *       *       *       *       *

A CONTRADICTION.--In picture exhibitions, the observant spectator is
struck by the fact that works hung on the line are too often below the
mark.

       *       *       *       *       *

A "LIGHT" REPAST.--A feast of lanterns.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: R. A. GEMS.--_Fair Amateur_ (_to carpenter_). "My picture
is quite hidden with that horrid ticket on it. Can't you fix it on the
frame?" _Carpenter._ "Why, you'll spoil the frame, mum!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Jones._ "Do you drink between meals?"

_Smith._ "No. I eat between drinks."

_Jones._ "Which did you do last?"

_Smith._ "Drink."

_Jones._ "Then we'd better go and have a sandwich at once!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: NOCTURNE IN THE OLD KENT ROAD]

       *       *       *       *       *

"LARGEST CIRCULATION IN THE WORLD."--The elephant's.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE WORST PLACE IN THIRSTY WEATHER.--Taplow.

       *       *       *       *       *

INSCRIPTION FOR AN OLD CLOTHES SHOP.--"Nothing new."

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "JUST A SONG AT TWILIGHT"]

(_As sung sweetly by a Public-House-Baritone_)

       *       *       *       *       *

LITERARY ANNOUNCEMENT.--In the press--yesterday's tablecloth.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE HEIGHT OF ECONOMY.--A "screw" of tobacco.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A BROKEN MELODY

SCENE I.--_Street Singer._ "I fear no foe in shining ar----."]

[Illustration: A BROKEN MELODY

SCENE II.--Enter policeman.]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE QUICK GRUB STREET CO.

THE QUICK GRUB STREET CO. BEG TO ANNOUNCE THAT THEY HAVE OPENED AN
ESTABLISHMENT FOR THE SUPPLY OF LITERATURE IN ALL ITS BRANCHES.

     _Every Editor should send for our Prices and compare them with
     those of other houses._

POETRY DEPARTMENT.

We employ experienced poets for the supply of garden verses, war songs,
&c., and undertake to fill any order within twenty-four hours of its
reaching us. Our Mr. Rhymeesi will be glad to wait upon parties
requiring verse of any description, and, if the matter is at all urgent,
to execute the order on the spot.

DRAMA DEPARTMENT.

Actor-managers before going elsewhere should give us a call. Our plays
draw wherever they are presented, even if it is only bricks.

_Testimonial._--A manager writes: "The play you kindly supplied, _The
Blue Bloodhound of Bletchley_, is universally admitted to be _unlike
anything ever before produced on the stage_."

Musical comedies (guaranteed absolutely free from plot) supplied on
shortest notice.

FICTION DEPARTMENT.

For society dialogues we use the very best duchesses; while a
first-class earl's daughter is retained for Court and gala opera.

For our new line of _vie intime_ we employ none but valets and
confidential maids, who have to serve an apprenticeship with P.A.P.

THE KAILYARD DEPARTMENT

is always up-to-date, and our Mr. Stickit will be pleased to call on any
editor on receipt of post-card.

N.B.--We guarantee our Scotch Idyll to be absolutely unintelligible to
any English reader, and undertake to refund money if it can be proved
that such is not the case.

Our speciality, however, is our _Six-Shilling Shocker_, as sold for
serial purposes. Editors with papers that won't "go" should ask for one
of these. When ordering please state general idea required under one of
our recognised sections, as foreign office, police, mounted infantry,
cowardice, Rome, &c., &c.

BIOGRAPHY.

Any gentleman wishing to have a biography of himself produced in
anticipation of his decease should communicate with us.

The work would, of course, be published with a note to the effect that
the writing had been a labour of love; that moreover the subject with
his usual modesty had been averse from the idea of a biography.

_Testimonial._--Sir Sunny Jameson writes: "The Life gives great
satisfaction. No reference made, however, to my munificent gift of L50
to the Referees' Hospital. This should be remedied in the next edition.
The work, however, has been excellently done. You have made me out to be
better than even I ever thought myself."

For love letters,

For the Elizabethan vogue,

For every description of garden meditations,

Give the Quick Grub Street Company a trial.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A SOFT ANSWER.--_Papa_ (_literary, who has given orders
he is not to be disturbed_). "Who is it?"

_Little Daughter._ "Scarcely anybody, dear papa!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE SECRETS OF LITERARY COMPOSITION

_The Fair Authoress of "Passionate Pauline," gazing fondly at her own
reflection, writes as follows_:--

"I look into the glass, reader. What do I see?

I see a pair of laughing, _espiegle_, forget-me-not blue eyes, saucy
and defiant; a _mutine_ little rose-bud of a mouth, with its
ever-mocking _moue_; a tiny shell-like ear, trying to play hide-and-seek
in a tangled maze of rebellious russet gold; while, from underneath the
satin folds of a _rose-the_ dressing-gown, a dainty foot peeps coyly
forth in its exquisitely-pointed gold morocco slipper", &c., &c.

(_Vide "Passionate Pauline", by Parbleu._)]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: A DISTINCTION

_First Gourmet._ "That was Mr. Dobbs I just nodded to."

_Second Gourmet._ "I know."

_First G._ "He asked me to dine at his house next Thursday--but I can't.
Ever dined at Dobbs's?"

_Second G._ "No. Never _dined_. But I've been there to dinner!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Auctioneer._ "Lot 52. A genuine Turner. Painted during
the artist's lifetime. What offers, gentlemen?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Millionaire_ (_who has been shown into fashionable
artist's studio, and has been kept waiting a few minutes_). "SHOP!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

NONSENSE PROVERBS

  WHAT'S in the pot mustn't be told to the pan.

  There's a mouth for every muffin.

  A clear soup and no flavour.

  As drunk as a daisy.

  All rind and no cheese.

  Set a beggar on horseback, and he will cheat the livery-stable keeper.

  There's a B in every bonnet.

  Two-and-six of one and half-a-crown of the other.

  The insurance officer dreads a fire.

  First catch your heir, then hook him.

  Every plum has its pudding.

  Short pipes make long smokes.

  It's a long lane that has no blackberries.

  Wind and weather come together.

  A flower in the button-hole is worth two on the bush.

  Round robin is a shy bird.

  There's a shiny lining to every hat.

  The longest dinner will come to an end.

  You must take the pips with the orange.

  It's a wise dentist that knows his own teeth.

  No rose without a gardener.

  Better to marry in May than not to marry at all.

  Save sovereigns, spend guineas.

  Too many followers spoil the cook. (N.B. This is _not_ nonsense.)

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: Profusely decorated with cuts]

       *       *       *       *       *

SAID AT THE ACADEMY.--_Punch_ doesn't care _who_ said it. It was
extremely rude to call the commission on capital punishments the hanging
committee.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE GRAMMAR OF ART.--"Art," spell it with a big or little "a," can never
come first in any well-educated person's ideas. "I am" must have the
place of honour; then "Thou Art!" so apostrophised, comes next.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Scrumble._ "Been to see the old masters?"

_Stippleton_ (_who has married money_). "No. Fact is"--(_sotto
voce_)--"I've got quite enough on my hands with the old missus!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: TWO OLD MASTERS OF ARTS]

       *       *       *       *       *

ARTIST'S VADE MECUM

_Question._ Has the anxious parent been to see his child's portrait?

_Answer._ He has seen it.

_Q._ Did he approve of it?

_A._ He will like it better when I have made some slight alterations.

_Q._ What are they?

_A._ He would like the attitude of the figure altered, the position of
the arms changed, the face turned the other way, the hair and eyes made
a different colour, and the expression of the mouth improved.

_Q._ Did he make any other suggestions?

_A._ Yes; he wishes to have the child's favourite pony and Newfoundland
dog put in, with an indication of the ancestral home in the back-ground.

_Q._ Is he willing to pay anything extra for these additions?

_A._ He does not consider it necessary.

_Q._ Are you well on with your Academy picture?

_A._ No; but I began the charcoal sketch yesterday.

_Q._ Have you secured the handsome model?

_A._ No; the handsome model has been permanently engaged by the eminent
R.A.

_Q._ Under these circumstances, do you still expect to get finished in
time?

_A._ Yes; I have been at this stage in February for as many years as I
can remember, and have generally managed to worry through somehow.

       *       *       *       *       *

WHENEVER the "Reduced Prizefighters" take a benefit at a theatre, the
play should be _The Miller and his Men_.

       *       *       *       *       *

A NICE MAN.--Mr. Swiggins was a sot. He was also a sloven. He never had
anything neat about him but gin.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: Under a great master]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE WARRIOR BOLD

SONGS AND THEIR SINGERS]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE GAY TOM TIT

SONGS AND THEIR SINGERS]

       *       *       *       *       *

"HUNG, DRAWN, AND QUARTERED."--(_Mr. Punch's sentence on three-fourths
of the Academicians' work "on the line."_)--Very well "hung"; very ill
"drawn"; a great deal better "quartered" than it deserves.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE SPIRIT OF THE AGE.--Gin.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "WHEN A MAN DOES NOT LOOK HIS BEST"

When he magnanimously consents to go on the platform at a conjuring
performance, and unwonted objects are produced from his inside pockets.]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Celebrated Minor Poet._ "Ah, hostess, how 'do? Did you
get my book I sent you yesterday?"

_Hostess._ "Delightful! _I couldn't sleep till I'd read it!_"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _The Infant Prodigy has reached the middle of an
exceedingly difficult pianoforte solo, and one of those dramatic pauses
of which the celebrated composer is so fond has occurred. Kindly but
undiscerning old Lady._ "Play something you know, dearie."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AT A FENCING "AT HOME."--_Distinguished Foreigner_ (_hero
of a hundred duels_). "It is delightful, mademoiselle. You English are a
sporting nation."

_Fair Member._ "So glad you are enjoying it. By the way, Monsieur le
Marquis, have they introduced fencing into France yet?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: IN THE CAUSE OF ART.--_Patron._ "When are yer goin' to
start my wife's picture and mine? 'Cause, when the 'ouse is up we're a
goin'----"

_Artist._ "Oh, I'll get the canvases at once, and----"

_Patron_ (_millionaire_). "Canvas! 'Ang it!--none o' yer canvas for me!
Price is no objec'! I can afford to pay for something better than
canvas!!" [_Tableau!_]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: GRATIFYING!--_Amateur Artist_ (_to the carrier_). "Did
you see my picture safely delivered at the Royal Academy?"

_Carrier._ "Yessir, and mighty pleased they seemed to be with
it--leastways, if one may jedge, sir. They didn't say nothin'--but--lor'
how they did laugh!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Artist_ (_who has recommended model to a friend_). "Have
you been to sit to Mr. Jones yet?"

_Model._ "Well, I've been to see him; but directly I got into his
studio, 'Why,' he said, 'you've got a head like a Botticelli.' I don't
know what a Botticelli is, but I didn't go there to be called names, so
I come away!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Art Student_ (_engaging rooms_). "What is that?"

_Landlady._ "That is a picture of our church done in wool by my
daughter, sir. She's subject to art, too."]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE SUB-EDITOR'S AUNT

"I always buy your paper my dear Horace," said the old lady, "although
there is much in it I cannot approve of. But there is one thing that
puzzles me extremely."

"Yes, aunt?" said the Sub-Editor meekly, as he sipped his tea.

"Why, I notice that the contents bill invariably has one word calculated
to stimulate the morbid curiosity of the reader. An adjective."

"Circulation depends upon adjectives," said the Sub-Editor.

"I don't think I object to them," the old lady replied; "but what I want
you to tell me is how you choose them. How do you decide whether an
occurrence is 'remarkable' or 'extraordinary,' 'astounding' or
'exciting,' 'thrilling' or 'alarming,' 'sensational' or merely
'strange,' 'startling' or 'unique'? What tells you which word to use?"

"Well, aunt, we have a system to indicate the adjective to a nicety;
but----"

"My dear Horace, I will never breathe a word. You should know that. No
one holds the secrets of the press more sacred than I."

The Sub-Editor settled himself more comfortably in his chair.

"You see, aunt, the great thing in an evening paper is human interest.
What we want to get is news to hit the man-in-the-street. Everything
that we do is done for the man-in-the-street. And therefore we keep
safely locked up in a little room a tame man of this description. He may
not be much to look at, but his sympathies are right, unerringly right.
He sits there from nine till six, and has things to eat now and then. We
call him the Thrillometer."

"How wonderful! How proud you should be Horace, to be a part of this
mighty mechanism, the press."

"I am, aunt. Well, the duties of the Thrillometer are very simple.
Directly a piece of news comes in, it is the place of one of the
Sub-Editors to hurry to the Thrillometer's room and read it to him. I
have to do this."

"Poor boy. You are sadly overworked, I fear."

"Yes, aunt. And while I read I watch his face."

"Long study has told me exactly what degree of interest is excited within
him by the announcement. I know instantly whether his expression means
'phenomenal' or only 'remarkable,' whether 'distressing' or only 'sad,'
whether----"

"Is there so much difference between 'distressing' and 'sad,' Horace?"

"Oh, yes, aunt. A suicide in Half Moon Street is 'distressing'; in the
City Road it is only 'sad.' Again, a raid on a club in Whitechapel is of
no account; but a raid on a West-End club is worth three lines of large
type in the bill, above Fry's innings."

"Do you mean a club in Soho when you say West-End?"

"Yes, aunt, as a rule."

"But why do you call that the West-End?"

"That was the Thrillometer's doing, aunt. He fell asleep over a club
raid, and a very good one too, when I said it was in Soho; but when I
told him of the next--also in Soho, chiefly Italian waiters--and said
it was in the West-End, his eyes nearly came out of his head. So you see
how useful the Thrillometer can be."

"Most ingenious, Horace. Was this your idea?"

"Yes, aunt."

"Clever boy. And have the other papers adopted it?"

"Yes, aunt. All of them."

"Then you are growing rich, Horace?"

"No, no, aunt, not at all. Unfortunately I lack the business instinct.
Other people grow rich on my ideas. In fact, so far from being rich, I
was going to venture to ask you----"

"Tell me more about the Thrillometer," said the old lady briskly.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AT THE WRESTLING MATCH

_Enthusiastic Old Gent._ "Go on, sonny! Stick 'old of 's 'ead."]

       *       *       *       *       *

GOING TO THE BAD

    All the way from the National Gallery
      Unto the Royal Academy
    As I walked, I was guilty of raillery,
      Which I felt was very bad o' me.

    Thinking of art's disasters,
      Still sinking to deeper abysses,
    I said, "From the Old Masters
      Why go to the new misses?"

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: PREHISTORIC PEEPS

A visit to an artist's studio.]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _He._ "Awfully jolly concert, wasn't it? Awfully jolly
thing by that fellow--what's his name?--something like Doorknob."

_She._ "_Doorknob!_ Whom _do_ you mean? I only know of Beethoven,
Mozart, Wagner, Handel----"

_He._ "That's it! Handel. I knew it was something you caught hold of!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: OUR ARTIST

"If you please, sir, here's the printer's boy called again!"

"Oh, bother! Say I'm busy."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SONGS AND THEIR SINGERS "'Tis hard to give the hand where
the heart can _never_ be!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SONGS AND THEIR SINGERS. "Only this"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Horse Dealer._ "Did that little mare I sold you do for
you, sir?"

_Nervous Horseman._ "Nearly!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "OPTICS."--_Lecturer._ "Now let anyone gaze steadfastly
on any object--say, for instance, his wife's eye--and he'll see himself
looking so exceedingly small, that----"

_Strong-minded Lady_ (_in front row_). "Hear! Hear! Hear!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "AFTER THE FAIR." (_Country cousin comes up in August to
see the exhibition of pictures at the Royal Academy!_).--_Porter._
"Bless yer 'art, we're closed!"

_Country Cousin._ "Closed! What! didn't it pay?!!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Jones._ "How is it we see you so seldom at the club
now?"

_Old Member._ "Ah, well, you see, I'm not so young as I was; and I've
had a good deal of worry lately; and so, what with one thing and
another, I've grown rather fond of my own society."

_Jones._ "Epicure!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE TRUE INWARDNESS OF ART.--Photographs by the Roentgen rays.

       *       *       *       *       *

MAN WHO HAS A TURN FOR MUSIC.--An organ-grinder.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE PHONOGRAPH CANNOT LIE.--_German Dealer_ "Now, mein
Herr! You've chust heerd your lofely blaying rebroduced to berfection!
Won't you buy one?"

_Amateur Flautist._ "Are you sure the thing's all right?"

_German Dealer._ "Zertainly, mein Herr."

_Amateur Flautist._ "Gad, then, if that's what my playing is like, I'm
done with the flute for ever."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: PRIVATE INQUIRY.--_Surveyor of Taxes_ (_to literary
gent_). "But surely you can arrive at some estimate of the amount
received by you during the past three years for example. Don't you keep
books?"

_Literary Gent._ (_readily_). "Oh dear no. I write them!"

_Surveyor._ "Ahem--I mean you've got some sort of accounts----"

_Literary Gent._ "Oh yes, lots"--(_Surveyor brightens up_)--"unpaid!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "There's a boy wants to see you, sir." "Has he got a bill
in his hand?" "No, sir." "Then he's got it in his pocket! Send him
away!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: WHAT OUR ARTIST HAS TO PUT UP WITH.--_He._ "By Jove, it's
the best thing I've ever painted!--and I'll tell you what; I've a good
mind to give it to Mary Morison for her wedding present!"

_His Wifey._ "Oh, but, my love, the Morisons have always been _so_
hospitable to us! You ought to give her a _real_ present, you know--a
fan, or a scent-bottle, or something of that sort!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: TRIUMPH

_Frame Maker_ (_in ecstasies_). "By Jove! Jemima--every one of 'em on
the line again!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

HOW TO BE AN AUTHOR

Mr. Punch, having read the latest book on the way to write for the
press, feels that there is at least one important subject not properly
explained therein: to wit, the covering letter. He therefore proceeds to
supplement this and similar books.... It is, however, when your story
is written that the difficulties begin. Having selected a suitable
editor, you send him your contribution accompanied by a covering letter.
The writing of this letter is the most important part of the whole
business. One story, after all, is very much like another (in your case,
probably, exactly like another), but you can at least in your covering
letter show that you are a person of originality.

Your letter must be one of three kinds: pleading, peremptory, or
corruptive. I proceed to give examples of each.

I.--THE PLEADING LETTER.

199, _Berkeley Square, W._

DEAR MR. EDITOR,--I have a wife and seven starving children; can you
possibly help us by accepting this little story of only 18,000
(eighteen thousand) words? Not only would you be doing a work of charity
to one who has suffered much, but you would also, I venture to say, be
conferring a real benefit upon English literature--as I have already
received the thanks of no fewer than thirty-three editors for having
allowed them to peruse this manuscript.

Yours humbly,

THE McHARDY.

P.S.--My youngest boy, aged three, pointed to his little sister's Gazeka
toy last night and cried "De editor!" These are literally the first
words that have passed his lips for three days. Can you stand by and see
the children starve?

II.--THE PEREMPTORY LETTER.

SIR,--Kindly publish at once and oblige.

Yours faithfully,

EUGENE HACKENKICK.

P.S.--I shall be round at your office to-morrow about an
advertisement for some 600 lb. bar-bells, and will look you up.

III.--THE CORRUPTIVE LETTER.

_Middlesex House, Park Lane, IV._

     DEAR MR. SMITH,--Can you come and dine with us quite in a
     _friendly_ way on Thursday at eight? I want to introduce you to the
     Princess of Holdwig-Schlosstein and Mr. Alfred Austin, who are so
     eager to meet you. Do you know I am really a little _frightened_ at
     the thought of meeting such a famous editor? Isn't it _silly_ of
     me?

Yours very sincerely,

EMMA MIDDLESEX.

     P.S.--I wonder if you could find room in your _splendid little
     paper_ for a silly story I am sending you. It would be such a
     surprise for the Duke's birthday (on Monday).--E. M.

Before concluding the question of the covering letter I must mention the
sad case of my friend Halibut. Halibut had a series of lithographed
letters of all kinds, one of which he would enclose with every story he
sent out. On a certain occasion he wrote a problem story of the most
advanced kind; what, in fact, the reviewers call a "strong" story. In
sending this to the editor of a famous magazine his secretary
carelessly slipped in the wrong letter:

     "DEAR MR. EDITOR," it ran, "I am trying to rite you a littel story,
     I do hope you will like my little storey, I want to tell you about
     my kanary and my pussy cat, it's name is _Peggy_ and it has seven
     kitens, have you any kitens, I will give you one if you print my
     story,

"Your loving little friend,

"FLOSSIE."

       *       *       *       *       *

PROVERB FOR THE COUNCIL OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY.--"Hanging goes by favour."

       *       *       *       *       *

THE ENRAGED MUSICIAN.--(_A Duologue._)

_Composer._ Did you stay late at Lady Tittup's?

_Friend._ Yes. Heard Miss Bang play again. I was delighted with her
execution.

_Composer._ Her execution! _That_ would have pleased _me_; she deserved
it for having brutally murdered a piece of mine.
    [_Exeunt._

       *       *       *       *       *

THE GENTILITY OF SPEECH.--At the music halls visitors now call for
"another acrobat," when they want a second tumbler.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE WRITING ON THE WINDOW

Portrait of a gentleman who proposes to say he was detained in town on
important business.]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AWARDING THE BISCUIT

_Dingy Bohemian._ "I want a bath Oliver."

_Immaculate Servitor._ "My name is _not_ Oliver!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "SENDING-IN" DAY.--Indigo Brown takes his picture,
entitled "Peace and Comfort," to the R.A. himself, as he says, "Those
picture carts are certain to scratch it," and, with the assistance of
his cabby, adds the finishing touches on his way there!]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AN UNDOUBTED OLD MASTER

(_By Himself_)]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: LAYING IT ON WITH A PALETTE-KNIFE.--_Miss Sere._ "Ah, Mr.
Brown, if you could only paint me as I was ten years ago!"

_Our Portrait Painter_ (_heroically_). "I am afraid children's portraits
are not in my line."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AFTER THE SIXTH REJECTION BY THE R.A.--_The Prodigal._
"Well, dad, here I am, ready to go into the office to-morrow. I've given
up my studio and put all my sketches in the fire."

_Fond Father._ "That's right, 'Arold. Good lad! Your 'art's in the right
place, after all!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Brown_ (_as Hamlet_) _to Jones_ (_as Charles the
Second_). "'Normous amount of _taste_ displayed here to-night!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AN ART PATRON

"I'll have it if you shorten the 'orizon, and make it quids instead of
guineas!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SHOW SUNDAY.--_Brown_ (_trying to find something to
admire in Smudge's painting_). "By Jove, old chap, those flowers are
beautifully put in!"

_Smudge._ "Yes; my old friend--Thingummy--'R.A.' you know, painted them
in for me."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: ENVY.--Scene--_Miss Semple and Dawber, standing near his
picture._

_Miss Semple._ "Why, there's a crowd in front of Madder's picture!"

_Dawber._ "Someone fainted, I suppose!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

AN ARTISTIC EPISODE

     ["Incapacity for work has come to be accepted as the hall-mark of
     genius.... The collector wants only the thing that is rare, and
     therefore the artist must make his work as rare as he can."--_Daily
     Chronicle._]

Josephine found me stretched full length in a hammock in the garden.

"Why aren't you at work?" she asked; "not feeling seedy, I hope?"

"Never better," said I. "But I've been making myself too cheap."

"We couldn't possibly help going to the Joneses last night, dear."

"Tush," said I. "I mean there is too much of me."

"I don't quite understand," she said; "but there certainly will be if
you spend your mornings lolling in that hammock."

The distortive wantonness of this remark left me cold.

"I have made up my mind," I continued, quite seriously, "to do no more
work for a considerable time."

"But, my dear boy, just think----"

"I'm going to make myself scarce," I insisted.

"Geoffrey!" she exclaimed, "I knew you weren't well!"

I released myself.

"Josephine," I said solemnly, "those estimable persons who collect my
pictures will think nothing of them if they become too common."

"How do you know there are such persons?" she queried.

"I must decline to answer that question," I replied; "but if there are
none it is because my work is not yet sufficiently rare and precious. I
propose to work no more--say, for six or seven years. By that time my
reputation will be made, and there will be the fiercest competition for
the smallest canvas I condescend to sign."

She kissed me.

"I came out for the housekeeping-money," she remarked simply.

I went into the house to fetch the required sum, and, by some means I
cannot explain, got to work again upon the latest potboiler.

       *       *       *       *       *

MUSIC READILY ACQUIRED.--Stealing a march.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE STORM FIEND

SONGS AND THEIR SINGERS]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SUCH IS FAME!--_Duchess_ (_with every wish to encourage
conversation, to gentleman just introduced_). "Your name is very
familiar to me indeed for the last ten years."

_Minor Poet_ (_flattered_). "Indeed, Duchess! And may I ask what it was
that first attracted you?"

_Duchess._ "Well, I was staying with Lady Waldershaw, and she had a most
indifferent cook, and whenever we found fault with any dish she always
quoted _you_, and said that _you_ liked it _so much_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: DOMESTIC BLISS.--_Wife of your Bussum._ "Oh! I don't want
to interrupt you, dear. I only want some money for baby's socks--and to
know whether you will have the mutton cold or hashed."]

       *       *       *       *       *

IN A MINOR KEY.--_Hearty Friend_ (_meeting Operatic Composer_). Hallo,
old man, how are you? Haven't seen you for an age! What's your latest
composition?

_Impecunious Musician_ (_gloomily_). With my creditors. [_Exeunt
severally._

       *       *       *       *       *

TO BE SUNG AT CONCERT PITCH.--"The Tar's Farewell."

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SAFE.--_Guest_ (_after a jolly evening_). "Good night,
ol' fellah--I'll leave my boosh oushide 'door----"

_Bohemian Host._ "Au' right, m' boy--(_hic_)--noborry'll toussh
'em--goo' light!!"     [_Exeunt._]

       *       *       *       *       *

CONSOLATIONS FOR THE UNHUNG

Now that the painful month of suspense in Studioland is at an end, it
behoves us to apply our most soothing embrocation to the wounded
feelings of geniuses whose works have boomeranged their way back from
Burlington House. Let them remember:

That very few people really look at the pictures in the Academy--they
only go to meet their friends, or to say they have been there.

That those who _do_ examine the works of art are wont to disparage the
same by way of showing their superior smartness.

That one picture has no chance of recognition with fourteen hundred
others shouting at it.

That all the best pavement-artists now give "one-man" shows. They can
thus select their own "pitch," and are never ruthlessly skied.

That photography in colours is coming, and then the R.A. will have to
go.

That Rembrandt, Holbein, Rubens and Vandyck were never hung at the
summer exhibition.

That Botticelli, Correggio and Titian managed to rub along without that
privilege.

That the ten-guinea frame that was bought (or owed for) this spring will
do splendidly next year for another masterpiece.

That the painter _must_ have specimens of his best work to decorate the
somewhat bare walls of his studio.

That the best test of a picture is being able to live with it--or live
it down--so why send it away from its most lenient critic?

That probably the _chef-d'oeuvre_ sent in was shown to the hanging
committee up-side down.

That, supposing they saw it properly, they were afraid that its success
would put the Academy to the expense of having a railing placed in
front.

And finally, we would remind the rejected one that, after all, his
bantling _has_ been exhibited in the R.A.--to the president and his
colleagues engaged in the work of selection. Somebody at least looked at
it for quite three seconds.

       *       *       *       *       *

ART NOTE.--_The early Italian style._--An organ-grinder at five o'clock
in the morning.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: OUR FLAT.--_Extract from Lady's Correspondence._ "----In
fact, our reception was a _complete_ success. We had some excellent
musicians. I daresay you will wonder where we put them, with such a
crowd of people; but we managed _capitally_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SHOW SUNDAY.--_Vandyke Browne._ "Peace, my dear lady,
peace and refinement, those are the two essentials in an artist's
surroundings." [_Enter Master and Miss Browne. Tableau!_]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: VARNISHING DAY AMENITIES.--_Little Smudge._ "Of course, I
know perfectly well my style isn't quite developed yet, but I feel I am,
if I might so express it, in a _transition_ stage, don't you know,"
_Brother Brush_ ("_skied_" _this year_). "Ah! I see, _going from bad to
worse_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE MIGHTY PEN

["With this little instrument that rests so lightly in the hand, whole
nations can be moved.... When it is poised between thumb and finger, it
becomes a living thing--it moves with the pulsations of the living heart
and thinking brain, and writes down, almost unconsciously, the thoughts
that live--the words that burn.... It would be difficult to find a
single newspaper or magazine to which we could turn for a lesson in pure
and elegant English."--_Miss Corelli in_ "_Free Opinions Freely
Expressed_."]

    O magic pen, what wonders lie
      Within your little length!
    Though small and paltry to the eye
      You boast a giant's strength.
    Between my finger and my thumb
    A living creature you become,
    And to the listening world you give
    "The words that burn--the thoughts that live."

    Oft, when the sacred fire glows hot,
      Your wizard power is proved:
    You write till lunch, and nations not
      Infrequently are moved;
    'Twixt lunch and tea perhaps you damn
    For good and all, some social sham,
    And by the time I pause to sup--
    Behold Carnegie crumpled up!

    Through your unconscious eyes I see
      Strange beauty, little pen!
    You make life exquisite to me,
      If not to other men.
    You fill me with an inward joy
    No outward trouble can destroy,
    Not even when I struggle through
    Some foolish ignorant review;

    Nor when the press bad grammar scrawls
      In wild uncultured haste,
    And which intolerably galls
      One's literary taste.
    What are the editors about,
    Whom one would think would edit out
    The shocking English and the style
    Which every page and line defile?

    There is, alas! no magazine,
      No paper that one knows
    To which a man could turn for clean
      And graceful English prose;
    Not even, O my pen, though you
    Yourself may write for one or two,
    And lend to them a style, a tone,
    A grammar that is all your own.

    I see the shadows of decay
      On all sides darkly loom;
    Massage and manicure hold sway,
      Cosmetics fairly boom;
    Old dowagers and budding maids
    Alike affect complexion-aids,
    While middle age with anxious care
    Dyes to restore its dwindling hair.

    The time is out of joint, but still
      I am not hopeless quite
    So long as you exist, my quill,
      Once more to set it right.
    Woman will cease from rouge, I think,
    Man pour his hair-wash down the sink,
    If you will yet consent to give
    "The words that burn--the thoughts that live."

       *       *       *       *       *

A HINT FOR THE PUBLISHERS.

As the publishing season will soon be in full play--which means that
there will be plenty of work--we suggest the following as titles of
books, to succeed the publication of "People I have Met," by an
American:--

People I have taken into Custody, by a Policeman.

People that have Met me Half-way, by an Insolvent.

People I have Splashed, by a Scavenger.

People I have Done, by a Jew Bill-discounter.

People I have Abused, by a 'Bus Conductor.

People I have Run Over, by a Butcher's Boy.

People I have Run Against, by a Sweep.

       *       *       *       *       *

A ROARING TRADE.--Keeping a menagerie.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: COMPLIMENTS ONE MIGHT IMPROVE ON.--_Mrs. Mudge._ "I _do_
admire the women you draw, Mr. Penink. They're _so_ beautiful and _so_
refined! Tell me, _who_ is your model?" [_Mrs. Mudge rises in Mrs.
Penink's opinion._]

_Penink._ "Oh, my wife always sits for me!"

_Mrs. Mudge_ (_with great surprise_). "You don't say so! Well, I think
you're one of the _cleverest_ men I know!" [_Mrs. Penink's opinion of
Mrs. Mudge falls below zero._]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER."--_George_ (_Itinerant
Punch-and-Judy Showman_). "I say, Bill, she _do_ draw!"

_Bill_ (_his partner, with drum and box of puppets_). "H'm--it's more
than _we_ can!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "SELECTION."--_Brown_ (_as he was leaving our Art
Conversazione, after a rattling scramble in the cloak-room_). "Confound
it! Got my own hat, after all!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Eccentric Old Gent_ (_whose pet aversion is a dirty
child_). "Go away, you dirty girl, and wash your face!"

_Indignant Youngster._ "You go 'ome, you dirty old man, and do yer
'air!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

MUSICAL FACT.--People are apt to complain of the vile tunes that are
played about the streets by grinding organs, and yet they may all be
said to be the music of Handle.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: IS THERE ROOM FOR MARY THERE?

SONGS AND THEIR SINGERS]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Photographer._ "I think this is an excellent portrait of
your wife."

_Mr. Smallweed._ "I don't know--sort of _repose_ about the _mouth_ that
somehow doesn't seem right."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE GREAT PRIZE FIGHT.--_Johnnie_ (_who finds that his
box_, L_20_, _has been appropriated by "the Fancy"_). "I beg your
pardon, but this is _my_ box!"

_Bill Bashford._ "Oh, is it? Well, why don't you tike it?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: WITHOUT PREJUDICE.--_Ugly Man_ (_who thinks he's a
privileged wag, to artist_). "Now, Mr. _Daub_igny, draw me."

_Artist_ (_who doesn't like being called _Daub_igny, and whose real name
is Smith_). "Certainly. But you _won't_ be offended if it's _like_ you.
Eh?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Scrimble._ "So sorry I've none of my work to show you.
Fact is, I've just sent all my pictures to the Academy."

_Mrs. Macmillions._ "What a pity! I did so much want to see them. How
soon do you expect them back?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE YOUNG NOVELIST'S GUIDE TO MEDICINE

CHLOROFORM. Invaluable to writers of sensational stories. Every
high-class fictionary criminal carries a bottle in his pocket. A few
drops, spread on a handkerchief and waved within a yard of the hero's
nose, will produce a state of complete unconsciousness lasting for
several hours, within which time his pockets may be searched at leisure.
This property of chloroform, familiar to every expert novelist, seems to
have escaped the notice of the medical profession.

CONSUMPTION. The regulation illness for use in tales of mawkish pathos.
Very popular some years ago, when the heroine made farewell speeches in
blank verse, and died to slow music. Fortunately, however, the public
has lost its fondness for work of this sort. Consumption at its last
stage is easily curable (in novels) by the reappearance of a hero
supposed to be dead. Two pages later the heroine will gain strength in a
way which her doctors--not unnaturally--will describe as "perfectly
marvellous." And in the next chapter the marriage-bells will ring.

[Illustration]

DOCTOR. Always include a doctor among your characters. He is quite easy
to manage, and invariably will belong to one of these three types: (_a_)
The eminent specialist. Tall, imperturbable, urbane. Only comes
incidentally into the story. (_b_) Young, bustling, energetic. Not much
practice, and plenty of time to look after other people's affairs.
Hard-headed and practical. Often the hero's college friend. Should be
given a pretty girl to marry in the last chapter. (_c_) The old family
doctor. Benevolent, genial, wise. Wears gold-rimmed spectacles, which he
has to take off and wipe at the pathetic parts of the book.

FEVER. A nice, useful term for fictionary illnesses. It is best to avoid
mention of specific symptoms, beyond that of "a burning brow," though,
if there are any family secrets which need to be revealed, delirium is
sure to supervene at a later stage. _Arthur Pendennis_, for instance,
had fictional "fever," and baffled doctors have endeavoured ever since
to find out what really was the matter with him. "Brain-fever," again,
is unknown to the medical faculty, but you may safely afflict your
intellectual hero with it. The treatment of fictionary fever is quite
simple, consisting solely of frequent doses of grapes and cooling
drinks. These will be brought to the sufferer by the heroine, and these
simple remedies administered in this way have never been known to fail.

[Illustration]

FRACTURE. After one of your characters has come a cropper in the
hunting-field he will be taken on a hurdle to the nearest house:
usually, by a strange coincidence, the heroine's home. And he will be
said to have sustained "a compound fracture"--a vague description which
will quite satisfy your readers.

GOUT. An invaluable disease to the humorist. Remember that heroes and
heroines are entirely immune from it, but every rich old uncle is bound
to suffer from it. The engagement of his niece to an impecunious young
gentleman invariably coincides with a sharp attack of gout. The humour
of it all is, perhaps, a little difficult to see, but it never fails to
tickle the public.

[Illustration]

HEART DISEASE. An excellent complaint for killing off a villain. If you
wish to pave the way for it artistically, this is the recognised method:
On page 100 he will falter in the middle of a sentence, grow pale, and
press his hand sharply to his side. In a moment he will have recovered,
and will assure his anxious friends that it is nothing. But the reader
knows better. He has met the same premonitory symptoms in scores of
novels, and he will not be in the least surprised when, on the middle of
page 250, the villain suddenly drops dead.

[Illustration]

       *       *       *       *       *

UNPOPULAR GAME AT THE ROYAL ACADEMY.--"High-sky-high!"

       *       *       *       *       *

A ROUGH WINE.--Rude-sheimer.

       *       *       *       *       *

NERVOUS.--Mrs. Malaprop was induced to go to a music hall the other
evening. She never means to set foot in one again. The extortions some
of the performers threw themselves into quite upset her.

       *       *       *       *       *

MOTTO FOR A MODEL MUSIC-HALL ENTERTAINMENT.--"Everything in its 'turn'
and nothing long."

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: BREAKING IT GENTLY.--_His Cousins._ "We sent off the wire
to stop your model coming. But you had put one word too many--so we
struck it out."

_Real Artist._ "Oh, indeed. What word did you strike out?"

_His Cousins._ "You had written 'he wasn't to come, as you had only just
discovered you couldn't paint to-day.' So we crossed out '_to-day_.'"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE STATE OF THE MARKET.--_Artist_ (_to customer_, _who
has come to buy on behalf of a large furnishing firm in Tottenham Court
Road_): "How would this suit you? 'Summer'!"

_Customer_: "H'm--'Summer.' Well, sir, the fact is we find there's very
little demand for _green_ goods just now. If you had a line of _autumn
tints_ now--that's the article we find most sale for among our
customers!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Our Amateur Romeo_ (_who has taken a cottage in the
country, so as to be able to study without interruption_). "Arise, fair
sun, and kill the envious moon----"

_Owner of rubicund countenance_ (_popping head over the hedge_), "Beg
pardon, zur! Be you a talkin' to Oi, zur?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: BITTERS AT THE CLUB

_MacStodge_ (_Pictor ignotus_). "Who's that going out?"

_O'Duffer_ (_Pictor ignotissimus_). "One Ernest Raphael Sopely, who
painted Lady Midas!"

_MacStodge._ "Oh, the artist!"

_O'Duffer._ "No. _The Royal Academician!_"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: LA VIE DE BOHEME.--_First Bohemian_ (_to second ditto_).
"I can't for the life of me think why you wasted all that time haggling
with that tailor chap, and beating him down, when you know, old chap,
you won't be able to pay him at all."

_Second Bohemian._ "Ah, that's _it_! _I_ have a conscience. I want the
poor chap to lose as little as possible!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Little Guttersnipe_ (_who is getting quite used to
posing_). "Will yer want me ter tike my bun down?"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Genial Doctor_ (_after laughing heartily at a joke of
his patient's_). "Ha! ha! ha! There's not much the matter with _you_!
Though I do believe that if you were on your death-bed you'd make a
joke!"

_Irrepressible Patient._ "Why, of course I should. It would be my last
chance!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _She_ (_to Raphael Greene_, _who paints gems for the R.A.
that are never accepted_). "I _do_ hope you'll be hung this year. I'm
sure you deserve to be!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: ART INTELLIGENCE

_She_ (_reads_). "There are upwards of fifty English painters and
sculptors now in Rome----"

_He_ (_British Philistine--served on a late celebrated jury!_). "Ah! no
wonder we couldn't get that scullery white-washed!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Devoted little wife_ (_to hubbie, who has been late at
the club_). "Now, dear, see, your breakfast is quite ready. A nice
kipper, grilled chicken and mushrooms with bacon, poached eggs on
toast--tea and coffee. Anything else you'd like, dearie?"

_Victim of last night_ (_groans_). "Yes--an appetite!" [_Collapses._]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AFTER FEEDING-TIME.--_Showman of Travelling Menagerie._
"Now, ladies and gentlemen, we come to the most interesting part of the
'ole exhibition! Seven different species of hanimals, in the same cage,
dwellin' in 'armony. You could see them with the naked heye, only you
have come too late. They are all now inside the lion!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

TO BILLIARD PLAYERS.--If you would obey the _rules_ of billiards, always
attend to the _cannons_ of the game.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE SUSPENSORY ACT.--Hanging the Academy exhibition.

       *       *       *       *       *

IN THE BILLIARD ROOM.--_Major Carambole._ I never give any bribes to the
club servants on principle.

_Captain Hazard._ Then I suppose the marker looks on the tip of your cue
without interest.

[Illustration]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: IN A BAR, NEWMARKET.--_Seedy Individual_ (_to Knowing
One_). "D'yer want to buy a diamond pin cheap?"

_Knowing One._ "'Ere, get out of this! What d'you take me for? A
juggins?"

_S. I._ "Give yer my word it's worth sixty quid if it's worth a penny.
And you can 'ave it for a tenner."

_K. O._ "Let's 'ave a look at it. Where is it?"

_S. I._ "In that old gent's tie. _Will yer 'ave it?_"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SONGS AND THEIR SINGERS

  "Yew harxed me woy hoi larved when larve should be
  A thing hun-der-eamed hof larve twixt yew han me.
  Yew moight hin-tereat the sun tew cease tew she-oine
  Has seek tew sty saw deep a larve has moine."]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SHAKSPEARE ILLUSTRATED

"Oh, my prophetic soul! My uncle!"

    _Hamlet_, Act I., Sc. 5.]

       *       *       *       *       *

A BROTHER ARTIST

["We have regularly attended the Academy now for many years,
but never do we remember such a poor show of portraits;
they cannot prove to be otherwise than the laughing-stock
of tailors and their customers."--_Tailor and Cutter._]

    The tailor leaned upon his goose,
      And wiped away a tear:
    "What portraits painting-men produce,"
      He sobbed, "from year to year!
    These fellows make their sitters smile
      In suits that do not fit,
    They're wrongly buttoned, and the style
      Is not the thing a bit.

    "Oh, artist, I'm an artist too!
      I bid you use restraint,
    And only show your sitters, do,
      In fitting coats of paint;
    In vain you crown those errant seams
      With smiles that look ethereal,
    For man may be the stuff of dreams--
      But dreams are not material."

       *       *       *       *       *

MEDICAL.--A sculptor friend, who has strabismus, consoles himself with
the thought that he can always keep his profession in view through
having a cast in his eye.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Frame-maker_ (_to gifted amateur, who is ordering frames
for a few prints and sketches_). "Ah, I suppose you want something cheap
an' ordinary for _this_?"

[_N.B._--_"This" was a cherished little sketch by our amateur himself._]

       *       *       *       *       *

NOT QUITE THE SAME.--Scene: _Exhibition of Works of Art._

_Dealer_ (_to friend, indicating stout person closely examining a
Vandyke_). Do you know who _that_ is? I so often see him about.

_Friend._ I know him. He's a collector.

_Dealer_ (_much interested_). Indeed! What does he collect? Pictures?

_Friend._ No. Income tax.

[_Exeunt severally._

       *       *       *       *       *

ART CLASS.--_Inspector._ What is a "landscape painter"?

_Student._ A painter of landscapes.

_Inspector._ Good. What is an "animal painter"?

_Student._ A painter of animals.

_Inspector._ Excellent. What is a "marine painter"?

_Student._ A painter of marines.

_Inspector._ Admirable! Go and tell it them. Call next class.

[_Exeunt students._

       *       *       *       *       *

THE BEST "PUBLISHER'S CIRCULAR."--A round dining-table.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SOCIAL AGONIES.--_Anxious Musician_ (_in a whisper_, _to
Mrs. Lyon Hunter's butler_). "Where's my cello?"

_Butler_ (_in stentorian tones_, _to the room_). "Signor Weresmicello!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Brown._ "Pity Jones has lost--his figure!"

_Robinson._ "Not _lost_, but gone before!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Enthusiastic Briton_ (_to seedy American_, _who has been
running down all our national monuments_). "But even if our Houses of
Parliament 'aren't in it,' as you say, with the Masonic Temple of
Chicago, surely, sir, you will admit the Thames Embankment, for
instance----"

_Seedy American._ "Waal, _guess_ I don't think so durned much of your
Thames Embankment, neither. It _rained_ all the blarmed time the night I
_slep on it_."]

       *       *       *       *       *

A PROFESSIONAL VIEW OF THINGS.--Old Paynter never neglects any
opportunity for advancing art. Every evening he has the cloth drawn.

       *       *       *       *       *

BEVERAGE FOR A MUSICIAN.--Thorough bass.

       *       *       *       *       *

POETICAL LICENCE.--A music-hall's.

       *       *       *       *       *

TURF REFORM.--Mowing your lawn.

       *       *       *       *       *

A MONSTER MEETING..--A giant and a dwarf.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE SOAKER'S PARADISE.--Dropmore.

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[Illustration: FINIS]

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BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS, LONDON AND TONBRIDGE.





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Punch in Bohemia, by Various

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