Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 99., August 23, 1890. by Various
V >>
Various >> Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 99., August 23, 1890.
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FEE VERY SIMPLE.
"In a recent case of brigandage, people of all sorts and
classes were implicated, while one of the leading barristers
was imprisoned on suspicion."--_Report of Consul Stigano, of
Palermo._
SCENE--_Chambers of Mr. E.S. TOPPEL, Q.C., in the Inner
Temple. Mr. TOPPEL discovered in consultation with a
Chancery Barrister, two Starving Juniors, and sixteen
Masked Ruffians armed to the teeth._
_Mr. Toppel_. Now that we have the Lord Chancellor, the Lord Chief
Justice, and the President of the Divorce Division, securely locked
up together in the attic, _and gagged_, we may, I think, congratulate
ourselves on the success of our proceedings so far! We are, I am sure,
quite agreed as to there having been no other course open to us than
to imitate our Sicilian brethren of the robe, and take to a little
mild brigandage, considering the awful decay of legal business and
our own destitute condition. (_Sympathetic cries of Hear, hear! from
the Chancery Barrister, and the two Starving Juniors._) I have no
doubt that a few hours spent in our attic will induce the High Legal
Dignitaries I have mentioned (_laughter_) to pay up the modest ransom
we demand, and to take the additional pledge of secresy. Meanwhile,
I propose that these sixteen excellent gentlemen should re-enter the
private Pirate Bus' which is waiting down-stairs, and see whether the
Master of the Rolls could not be--er--"detained _in transitu_" (_more
laughter_) while proceeding to his Court. It would be best, perhaps,
as Lord ESHER belongs to the Equity side, for our friend here of the
Chancery Bar to accommodate him in _his_ Chambers.
_Chancery Barrister_ (_alarmed_). But I have only a basement!
_Mr. Toppel_ (_calmly_). A basement will do very well. (_To the
sixteen Masked Men_). You will probably find Lord ESHER somewhere
about Chancery Lane. Impress on him that our fee in his case is a
thousand guineas; _or_--both ears lopped off! [_Exeunt the Sixteen._
_First Junior_. I went upstairs just now, in order to see how our
distinguished prisoners were getting on. The CHANCELLOR, I regret to
say, seemed dissatisfied with the bread and water supplied to him, and
asked for "necessaries suitable to his status." He appeared inclined
to argue the point; so I had to gag him again.
_Mr. Toppel_. Quite right. You might have told him that he is now
governed by the _lex loci_, and that we shall reluctantly have to send
little pieces of him to his friends--I believe that is the "common
form" in brigand circles--if he persists in refusing the ransom. How
does the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE bear it?
_Second Junior_. Not well. The attic window is, fortunately, barred,
but I found him trying to--in fact, to _disbar_ it--(_laughter_)--and
to attract the attention of a passer-by. He is now secured by a chain
to a strong staple.
_Mr. Toppel_. I suppose he is not disposed to make the assignment to
us of half his yearly salary, which we suggested?
_Second Junior_. Not yet. He even threatens, when liberated, to bring
our conduct under the notice of the Benchers.
_Mr. Toppel_ (_grimly_). Then he must never be liberated! It's no
good beginning this method of what I may call, in technical language,
'seisin,' unless we go the whole hog. Well, if you two Juniors
will attend to our--em--_clients_ upstairs--(_laughter_)--I and our
Chancery friend will superintend the temporary removal of Lord ESHER
from the Court that he so much adorns. (_Noise heard._) Ah, that
sounds like Sir JAMES HANNEN banging on the ceiling! He must be
stopped, as it would be so very awkward if a Solicitor were to
call. Not that there's much chance of _that_ nowadays. (To Chancery
Barrister.) Come--shall we try a "set-off"? [_Exeunt. Curtain._
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[Illustration: A PLEASANT PROSPECT!
THE LORDS OF THE ADMIRALTY PROCEED TO INSPECT THE FLEET AT THE CLOSE
OF THE MANOEUVRES. (WHAT WE MAY EXPECT IF THE GALES AND CASUALTIES
CONTINUE.)]
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THE JACKDAW.
(_IMITATED FROM EDGAR POE, BY AN INDIGNANT "OBSTRUCTIVE."_)
[Illustration]
"That (the defeat of our measures) was all due to
Obstruction.... It appears that Crown and Parliament are alike
to be disestablished, and that in their stead we are to put
the Obstructive and the Bore.... I should like to ask them
what kind of Government they think best, a Bureaucracy or a
Bore-ocracy?"--_Mr. Balfour at Manchester._
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a dry and dusty volume of Blue-Bookish lore,--
While I nodded nearly napping, suddenly there came a yapping,
As of some toy-terrier snapping, snapping at my study door.
"'Tis some peevish cur," I muttered, "yapping at my study door,--
Only that,--but it's a bore."
Ah! distinctly I remember, it was drawing nigh September,
And each trivial Tory Member pined for stubble, copse, and moor;
Eagerly they wished the morrow; vainly they had sought to borrow
From their SMITH surcease of sorrow, or from GOSCHEN or BALFOUR,
From the lank and languid "miss" the Tory _claque_ dubbed "Brave BALFOUR,"
Fameless else for evermore.
Party prospects dark, uncertain, sombre as night's sable curtain,
Filled them, thrilled them with fantastic funkings seldom felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of faint hearts, they kept repeating
Futile formulas, entreating Closure for the "Obstructive Bore"--
With a view to Truth defeating, such they dubbed "Obstructive Bore,"
As sought Truth, and nothing more.
Presently my wrath waxed stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Cur!" I said; "mad mongrel, truly off your precious hide, I'll score;
Like your cheek to come here yapping, just as I was gently napping;
You deserve a strapping,--yapping, snapping at my study door.
I shall go for you, mad mongrel!" Here I opened wide the door.
Darkness there, and nothing more!
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there nothing hearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams of Spooks, Mahatmas, Esoteric lore;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token.
Hist! there _were_ two words soft spoken, those stale words, "Obstructive Bore."
Bosh! I murmured, and some echo whispered back, "Obstructive Bore":
Merely that, and nothing more.
Back into my study turning, with some natural anger burning,
Soon again I heard a sound more like miauling than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is a grimalkin at my lattice.
Let me see if it stray cat is, and this mystery explore;
Where's that stick? Ah! wait a moment: _I_'ll this mystery explore;
It shall worry me no more!"
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a smirk and flutter,
In there popped a perky Jackdaw, yapping, miauling as before
(Queer mimetic noises made he), for no introduction stayed he,
But, with plumage sleek, yet shady, perched above my study door,--
Perched upon a bust of GLADSTONE placed above my study door,--
Perched, and croaked "Obstructive Bore!"
Then this mocking bird beguiling my tried temper into smiling
By the lank lopsided languor of the countenance it wore.
"Though you look storm-tost, unshaven, you," I said, "have found a haven,
Daw as roupy as a raven! Was it _you_ yapped at my door?
Tell me your confounded name, O bird in beak so like BALFOUR!"
Quoth the bird, "Obstructive Bore!"
Much I wondered this ungainly fowl to hear speak up so plainly,
Though his answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no sober human being
Ever yet was blessed by seeing bird above his study door--
Bird or beast upon the Grand Old bust above his study door,
With the name, "Obstructive Bore."
But the Jackdaw, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spake only
That one word, as though in that his policy he did outpour.
Not another sound he uttered, but his feathers proudly fluttered.
"Ah!" I mused, "the words he muttered other dolts have mouthed before.
Who is he who thinks to scare me with stale cant oft mouthed before?"
Quoth the bird, "Obstructive Bore!"
Startled at the silence broken by reply so patly spoken,
Doubtless, mused I, what it utters is its only verbal store,
Learnt from some unlucky master, whom well-merited disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his speech one burden bore--
Till his dirges of despair one melancholy burden bore,
Parrot-like, "Obstructive Bore!"
But the Jackdaw still beguiling my soothed fancy into smiling.
Straight I wheeled my easy-chair in front of bird, and bust, and door;
Then, upon the cushion sinking, I betook myself to linking
Memory unto memory, thinking what this slave of parrot-lore--
What this lank, ungainly, yet complacent thrall of parrot-lore
Meant by its "Obstructive Bore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, strange similitude confessing,
'Twixt this fowl, whose goggle-eyes glared on me from above my door,
And a chap with long legs twining, whom I'd often seen reclining
On the Treasury Bench's lining, Irish anguish gloating o'er;
This same chap with long legs twining Irish anguish chuckling o'er,
Tories christened, "Brave BALFOUR."
Then methought the air grew denser. I remembered stout Earl SPENCER,
And the silly pseudo-Seraph who "obstructed" him of yore;
I remembered Maamtrasma, faction, partisan miasma,
CHURCHILL--CHURCHILL and his henchman, lank and languorous BALFOUR.
"What," I cried, "was ARTHUR, then, or RANDOLPH, in those days of yore?"
Quoth the bird, "Obstructive Bore."
"Prophet!" said I, "of things evil, prophet callous, cold, uncivil,
By your favourite '_Tu quoque_' how can _you_ expect to score?
Though your cheek may be undaunted, little memory is wanted,
And your conscience _must_ be haunted by bad memories of yore,
When you were--ah! well, _what_ were you? Tell me frankly, I implore!"
Quoth the bird, "Obstructive Bore."
"Prophet," said I, "of all evil! that we're going to the devil
All along of that 'Obstruction'--which of old you did adore.
Ere you won official Aidenn--is the charge with which is laden
Every cackling speech you make--if you _do_ represent BALFOUR,
That mature and minxish 'maiden' whom the PATS call 'Miss BALFOUR,'"--
Quoth the bird, "Obstructive Bore!"
"Here! 'tis time you were departing, bird or not," I cried, upstarting;
"Get you back unto the Carlton, they on parrot-cries set store.
Leave no feather as a token of the lies that you have spoken
Of the Man, Grand, Old, Unbroken! Quit his bust above my door.
Take thy claws from off his crown, and take thy beak from off my door!"
Quoth the bird, "Obstructive Bore!"
And the Jackdaw, fowl provoking, still is croaking, still is croaking,
On the pallid bust of GLADSTONE just above my study door,
And his eyes have all the seeming of a small attorney scheming;
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And the shape cut by that shadow which lies floating on the floor,
Looks (to me) OBSTRUCTIVE BORE!
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ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
SUBMARINE ENTERPRISE.--It is a pity, perhaps, that on the very first
occasion which enabled you to submit, for an experimental trial,
to the Dockyard Authorities at Portsmouth, your newly-designed
_Self-sinking and Propelling Submarine Electric Gun Brig_, your
vessel, owing, as you say, "to some trifling, though quite unforeseen,
hitch in the machinery," should have immediately turned over on its
side, upsetting a quantity of red-hot coal from the stoke-hole, and
projecting a stifling rush of steam among the four foreign captains,
and the two scientific experts whom you had induced to accompany you
in your projected descent under the bottoms of the three first-class
ironclads at present moored in the harbour. Your alternative ideas of
either cutting your vessel in half, and turning it into a couple of
diving-bells for the purpose of seeking for hidden treasure on the
Goodwin Sands, or of running it under water, for the benefit of those
travellers who wish to avoid all chances of sea-sickness, between
Folkestone and Boulogne, seem both worthy of consideration. On
the whole, however, we should be inclined to think that your last
suggestion--namely, that you should put yourself in communication
with some highly respectable marine-store dealer, with a view to the
disposal of your "Electric Submarine Gun Brig," _for the price of
old iron_, would, perhaps, prove the soundest of all. Still, don't be
disheartened.
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