Another Injustice to Ireland. expended its malignity when PRINCE ARTHUR deprived him of his breeches. Now JOSEPH has appropriated his dinner-table. The lynx eye of BARTLEY detected the irregularity which disclosed existence of this fresh outrage. BARTLEY favourably known in House as guardian of its honour and dignity. From time to time spirit moves him suddenly to rise and point fat forefinger at astonished Mr. G., whom he has discovered in some fresh design upon stability of the Empire or symmetry of the Constitution. At stated hours, formerly on Thursdays ten o'clock now generally on stroke of midnight, he is seen and heard shouting "Gag! gag! 6 "Odd," says Member for Sark, "how phrases change in similar circumstances though at different epochs. When Closure first invented, put in motion by dear OLD MORALITY, and supported by BARTLEY, HANBURY, JIMMY LOWTHER, and the rest, it used to be spoken resentfully of as 'pouncing.' Now it is gagging.' But it is precisely the same, inasmuch as the minority of the day, against whom it is enforced, denounce it as iniquitous, whilst the majority, who took that view when they were on other side of House, now regard it as indispensable to conduct of public business. BARTLEY having lived through both epochs is useful illustration of this tendency. When OLD MORALITY pounced on Irish members his lusty shout of approval used to echo through House with only less volume than now his roar of anguish goes up to glass roof when OLD MORALITY's original thumbscrews are fitted on him and his friends. A quaint, mad world, my TOBY." To-night BARTLEY not so well-informed on subject as usual. Thought it was JOHN DILLON, who, acting the part of AMPHITRYON, piloted his guests within preserves of members' private dining-room. Turned out it wasn't DILLON at all, but WILLIAM O'BRIEN, who in most tragic manner tells how, having secured in advance a table for his guests, found when the dinner-hour struck JOSEPH and his Brethren seated thereat, merrily profiting by his forethought. Straightway O'BRIEN led his guests to the table in members' room which Unionist Leaders have marked for their own. This he appropriated, and there, regardless of surprised looks from ex-ministers at adjoining table, he truculently dined. "Well, at any rate," said TIM HEALY, that Man of Peace, "I'm glad it wasn't mere English or Orangemen who were thus treated. If JOSEPH had appropriated SAUNDERSON's table, the Colonel would have taken him in his arms, dropped him outside on the Terrace, and, returning to his seat, ordered a fresh plate of soup." Business done.-BARTLEY adds fresh dignity to Parliamentary debate. the almanack this is so; according to appearances an eternity and a hemisphere divide the two scenes. In Committee on Vote on Account; average attendance from twenty to thirty. Orders bristle with amendments; papers read in support of them; occasionally a Member follows with observations on topic suggested; sometimes he doesn't; then next gentleman who has prepared paper takes the floor; the audience turns over; goes to sleep again; wakened by Chairman putting question "that Amendment be withdrawn." Isn't even vigour sufficient to induce a division. Only person free from somnolent influence of hour is Mr. G. Has nothing to do in this galley; looks on wistfully whilst LOWTHER (not JIMMY) talks about Vitu and the Pamirs; JIMMY (lui même) is sarcastic on subject of Board of Trade engaging in experiments in journalism; and DICKY TEMPLE wants to know all about reported modifications in constitution of St. Paul's School by the Charity Commissioners. Mr. G. liked to have offered few remarks on one or all these subjects. TOMMY BOWLES nearly succeeded in drawing him. Dropping lightly out of Siam, via Morocco, upon question of Collisions at Sea, TOMMY brought MUNDELLA into full focus and fairly floored him with a problem. 66 Suppose," he said, "the right hon. gentleman were at sea, and the whole fleet bore down upon him on the weather bow. What would he do?" MUNDELLA nonplussed. Mr. G. knew all about it: would have answered right off and probably silenced even TOMMY with proposition of counter manœuvre. But MARJORIBANKS kept relentless eye on him. Vote on Account must be got through Committee to-night. The less speaking the better; so with profound sigh Mr. G. resisted the temptation and composed himself to listen to LENG's paper on the prohibition of importation of live cattle from Canada. Here was opportunity of learning something which Mr. G. gratefully welcomed. Gradually, as the new knight went on reading extract after extract in level voice, remorselessly deliberate, Mr. G.'s eyes closed, his head drooped, and in full view of the crowded Strangers' Gallery he fell into peaceful, childlike slumber, Business done. Vote on Account passed Committee. Friday.-Morning sitting devoted to miscellaneous talk around Ireland. Evening, a long STOREY about iniquities of House of Lords. The evening and the morning a dull day. Had time to look over Mr. G.'s letter about retention of Irish Members. do you think of it ?" I asked the Member for Sark. "Haven't read it," he said. "When I saw it was a column long, I knew Reading the G. O. M. to sleep. : "What Mr. G. didn't want to say anything that would be understood. Thursday.-Was it this day week the House was in volcanic upheaval, with HAYES FISHER-Or was it Mr. GLADSTONE ?-clutching LOGAN by the back of the neck, a mad mob mauling each other round the white waistcoat of EDWARD OF ARMAGH? According to result in further Develle-opments. FRANCE AND SIAM.-The situation at Bangkok will probably POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG. "BLAZY BILL; OR, THE BICYCLE CAD." "THE churl in nature up and down" is perennial and ubiquitous. Like the god Vishnu, he has many avatars. Every new development of popular pastime (for instance) developes its own particular species of "Cad." LEECH'S "Galloping Snob" of a quarter of a century ago has been succeeded by that Jehu of the "Bike," the Cycling Cad, to whose endearing manners and customs in the Queen's highway, and elsewhere, the long-suffering pedestrian is persuaded a laggard Law will shortly have to find its attention urgently directed. Mr. Punch, who is of the same opinion, adapts Mr. HARRY DACRE's popular song to what he is convinced will be a popular purpose. Perturbed Pedestrian sings :— There is a fear within my heart, BLAZY! BLAZY! Planted one day with a demon dart, List to the roar, Sirs—ain't it sublime! Hold tight, Sir!" "Oh, what bosh!" 'ARRY and 'ARRIET, Princess and Peer, And waving and raving, VOL. CV. The peril of spilling delightfully thrilling, And splashing and dashing and dripping with wet, And screeching and reaching for hat blown away, Excited. affrighted, delighted, benighted, And calling and bawling Hurrah and Hurray! "And 80 never descending ending but always Sounds and motions for ever and ever are blending;" All at once all is o'er, with a mighty uproar, And drenched and bedraggled they land on the shore. "LETHE HAD PASSED HER LIPS."-Mrs. R. had often come across the name of this classic stream in the course of her reading. She pronounced it as one syllable, and said that as this celebrated river was in Scotland -she knew the name quite well-what she wanted to know was, why weren't these waters bottled by a Company?" H AT THE SEASIDE CHURCH PARADE. (A Conversation à la Mode.) He. So very glad to see you. (Aside.) Hope she won't shut me up, she's so sharp! She. Quite pleased to have met. (Aside.) Can't stand much of him, he's so stupid! He. I suppose when you were in town you went to the Academy? She. Yes, and saw all the pictures-and didn't like them. He. And went to the Opera ? She. Yes, every night-and am tired of talking about it. He. And of course you went to Henley ? She. Yes, and to the Eton and Harrow Match, and to Ascot, and to Wimbledon to see the Lawn Tennis finals. He. But perhaps you never went to the House of Commons? She. Oh, yes, I did-on the Terrace, and also to the Ladies' Gallery. The rows were most amusing-saw them all. He. And did you go to many parties? She. To every party of any consequence, and all the really nice dinners. He. Were you at the Royal Wedding? She. Oh, don't talk of that. The subject is quite exhausted. (After a pause.) Pray, have you no conversation? He. Well, I don't know. I suppose you went to church this morning, and heard the Dean preach? She. Oh, I really must beg your pardon. If you can't find anything better to talk about on a Sunday than the points of a sermon you had far better say nothing at all. [Scene closes in upon an unbroken silence. NEW KING COAL. (A new Mining-Capitalist Version of an old Nursery Rhyme, dedicated and commended to the thoughtful consideration of the colliers on strike in Northumberland and Durham.) He calls for his "weed" and he calls for his "fizz," And he calls for his-Fiddlede-dee ! Every fiddler has his own little fiddle, And a very fine fiddle has he. "£8. d., £ 8. d.." sings King COAL, "Fiddle-de-dee! Oh! an opportune Strike is the thing for me!" O, there's none so rare With King COAL and his ROBERT AT GILDALL. AH, wot a change has suddenly cum over the hold Copperation! From sitch recepshuns of Kings and Queens, and Princes and Princesses, and Royal Dooks and Dutchesses, and Zarrowitches and setterer, and all in their werry best clothes, too! as I never witnessed before nor since, to cum suddenly upon nuffin but Gog and Magog, is a strikin fac indeed. As the Rite onerabel LORD MARE werry propperly said, "Ah wot a fall is here my Countrymen!" And what a blooming staggerer it was to finish off with the King and Queen of DENMARK! of all peeple in the World! Why I has allers been tort to bleeve, from what I have seen at the Play, that neether on em wornt not werry great things as regards behaviour to the poor Prince Hamblet, but BROWN says as that's all over long, long ago, and isn't to be spoke of no THE TOUR THAT NEVER WAS. (By an Undecided Man.) 66 BETWEEN now and my holidays there but remain two solid days, And thinking where I'll spend my vac " has driven me wild with worry; In vain have I surveyed acres of plans and maps and Bædekers, 66 [port! I were, to go where night and day you 're badgered for your passI'd like (my programme's large), a panoramic glimpse of far Japan From Fuji, and round Biwa Lake I'd in a jinrickshaw go; Or even for a hasty bet-I'd (like Miss TAYLOR) pace Thibet, Or "blue" my surplus cash at what the Yankees call" Shecawgo." Look here! I'll have to sham a tour (though but a humble amatoor At yarning), as this sort of thing is giving me the fidgets! I'll-since I've eased my intellect by tripping thus in print-elect To stay at home and twiddle (for the sake of rhyme) my digits! THE PLACE FOR LAWN TENNIS.-"Way down in Tennessee." more, no, not for ever! and so we must drop it. I think, upon the hole, as I likes the Prince of WALES the best of all on em, he does allers seem to enjy hisself so much. We had him in the City wunce at Church, and twice t Gildall to dinner, all in about a munth, and that ain't so bad for a near aparrent. And he does seem allers so much atome. Why I acshally overherd him say to Blushing Town Clark, after dining the King of DENMARK, "How well you have dun it all, but you allers do it well at Gildall!" our THE TWO POTS. (A Morality for Mammon.) WHEN Mammon in commerce has "made a big pot," And what need he care for the children of toil Who have helped in their hundreds that "big pot" to boil? Pot! Pot! Gushers talk rot; But Demas "retires upon what he has got." How did he get it, that pot full of gold? That is the problem-the poor man's pot! Poor pot-au-feu! 'Tis to keep you a- But when they've filled Wealth's big pot full of gold, MRS. R.-She is very tender-hearted. "Of course," she says, "it's very nice of what they call 'The Forsters' parents-though why Forster' I don't know. But certainly, even when they're me feel very sad when I see an adapted child." brought up as one of the family of the Forsters, yet it does make MORAL AND SOCIAL QUERIES.-When a man has lost his own character, is he justified in taking away anybody else's? At a party if somebody has taken away your hat, aren't you justified in taking somebody else's? THE ADVENTURES OF PICKLOCK HOLES. (By Cunnin Toil.) No. II.-THE DUKE'S FEATHER. Two months had passed without my hearing a word of HOLES. I knew he had been summoned to Irkoutsk by the CZAR of Russia in order to help in investigating the extraordinary theft of one of the Government silver mines, which had completely and mysteriously disappeared in one night. All the best intellects of the terrible secret police, the third section of the Government of the Russian Empire, had exhausted themselves in the vain endeavour to probe this mystery to the bottom. Their failure had produced a dangerous commotion in the Empire of the CZAR; there were rumours of a vast Nihilist plot, which was to shake the Autocracy to its foundations, and, as a last resource, the CZAR, who had been introduced to HOLES by OLGA FIASKOFFSKAIA, the well-known Russian Secret Agent at the Court of Lisbon, had appealed to the famous detective to lend his aid in discovering the authors of a crime which was beginning to turn the great white CZAR into ridicule in all the bazaars of Central Asia. HOLES, whose great mind had been lying fallow for some little time, had immediately consented; and the last I had seen of him was two months before the period at which this story opens, when I had said good-bye to him at Charing Cross Station. As for myself, I was spending a week in a farmhouse situated close to the village of Blobleyin-the-Marsh. Three miles from the gates of the farmhouse lay Fourcastle Towers, the ancestral mansion of Rear-Admiral the Duke of DUMPSHIRE, the largest and strangest landowner of the surrounding district. I had a nodding acquaintance with His Grace, whom I had once attended for scarlatina when he was a midshipman. Since that time, however, I had seen very little of him, and, to tell the truth, I had made no great effort to improve the acquaintance. The Duke, one of the haughtiest members of our blue-blooded aristocracy, had been called by his naval duties to all parts of the habitable globe; I had steadily pursued my medical studies, and, except for the biennial visit which etiquette demanded, I had seen little or nothing of the Duke. My stay at the farmhouse was for purposes of rest. I had been overworked, that old tulwar wound, the only memento of the Afghan Campaign, had been troubling me, and I was glad to be able to throw off my cares and my black coat, and to revel for a week in the rustic and unconventional simplicity of Wurzelby Farm. "Don't say any more," he broke in. "You've come to tell us about the dreadful poaching affray in Hagley Wood. I know all about it, and tired as I am I'll help you to find the criminals." It was amusing to watch the Sergeant's face. He was ordinarily an unemotional man, but as HOLES spoke to him he grew purple with astonishment. no 66 Beggin' your pardon, Sir," he said; "I didn't know about My name is HOLES," said my friend calmly. "What, Mr. PICKLOCK HOLES, the famous detective ?" "The same, at your service; but we are wasting time. Let us be off." The night was cold, and a few drops of rain were falling. As we walked along the lane HOLES drew from the Sergeant all the information he wanted as to the number of pheasants on the Duke's estate, the extent of his cellars, his rent-roll, and the name of his London tailor. BLUFF dropped behind after this cross-examination with a puzzled expression, and whispered to me: 66 66 "A wonderful man that Mister HOLES. Now how did he know about this 'ere poaching business? I knew nothing about it. Why I come to you, Sir, to talk about that retriever dog you lost." Hush," I said; say nothing. It would only annoy HOLES, and interfere with his inductions. He knows his own business best." Sergeant BLUFF gave a grumbling assent, and in another moment we entered the great gate of Fourcastle Towers, and were ushered into the hall, where the Duke was waiting to receive us. 66 "To what am I indebted for the honour of this visit ?" said his Grace, with all the courtly politeness of one in whose veins ran the blood of the Crusaders. Then, changing his tone, he spoke in fierce sailor-language: Shiver my timbers! what makes you three stand there like that? Why, blank my eyes, you ought toWhat he was going to say will never be known, for HOLES dashed forward. 66 "Silence, Duke," he said, sternly. "We come to tell you that there has been a desperate poaching affray. The leader of the gang lies insensible in Hagley Wood. Do you wish to know who he was ?" So saying, he held up to the now golden pheasant. "I found it in his waistcoat terrified eyes of the Duke the tail-feather of a pocket," he said, simply. "My son, my son!" shrieked the unfortunate Duke. "Oh ALURED, ALURED, that it should have come to this!" and he fell to the floor in convulsions. "Beside me stood Picklock Holes, wrapped in a heavy, close-fitting fur moujik. One evening, two days after my arrival, I was sitting in the kitchen close to the fire, which, like myself, was smoking. For greater comfort I had put on my old mess-jacket. The winter wind was whistling outside, but besides that only the ticking of the kitchen clock disturbed my meditations. I was just thinking how I should begin my article on Modern Medicine for the Fortnightly Review, when a slight cough at my elbow caused me to turn round. Beside me stood PICKLOCK HOLES, wrapped in a heavy, close-fitting fur moujik. He was the first to speak. "You seem surprised to see me," he said. "Well, perhaps that is natural; but really, my dear fellow, you might employ your time to better purpose than in trying to guess the number of words in the first leading article in the Times of the day before yesterday." I was about to protest when he stopped me. "I know perfectly well what you are going to say, but it is useless to urge that the country is dull, and that a man must employ his brain somehow. That kind of employment is the merest woolgathering." He plucked a small piece of Berlin worsted-I had been darning my socks-off my left trouser, and examined it curiously. My admiration for the man knew no bounds. "Is that how you know?" I asked. "Do you mean to tell me that merely by seeing that small piece of fancy wool on my trousers you guessed I had been trying to calculate the number of words in the Times leader? HOLES, HOLES, will you never cease from astounding me?" He did not answer me, but bared his muscular arm and injected into it a strong dose of morphia with a richly-chased little gold instrument tipped with a ruby. "A gift from the CZAR," said HOLES, in answer to my unspoken thoughts. "When I discovered the missing silver-mine on board the yacht of the Grand Duke IVANOFF, his Imperial Majesty first offered me the Chancellorship of his dominions, but I begged him "You will find Earl MOUNTRAVERS at the cross-roads in Hagley Wood," said HOLES to the Sergeant."He is insensible." The Earl was convicted at the following Assizes, and sentenced to a long term of penal servitude. His ducal father has never recovered from the disgrace. HOLES, as usual, made light of the matter and of his own share in it. "I met the Earl." he told me afterwards, "as I was walking to your farmhouse. When he ventured to doubt one of my stories, I felled him to the earth. The rest was easy enough. Poachers? Oh dear no, there were none. But it is precisely in these cases that ingenuity comes in." HOLES," I said, "I admire you more and more every day." 66 JOKE FOR JOKE.-A ruffian at Walsall, "for a joke," dropped a little boy over the bridge into the river. The inhabitants of that town took the cowardly brute to the same bridge, and dropped him over in the same place. Bravo men (and women) of Walsall! If the lex talionis, in the same spirit of impartial jocularity, could be applied as efficaciously to all practical jokers," civilised Society might soon be rid of one of its most intolerable pests. "So much depends on how you take things," as the thief remarked after a dexterous performance while the policeman's back was turned. BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF A COMIC BALLET D'ACTION.-"Too funny for words.' |