Punch

POLITE LITERATURE.

DEAR MR. PUNCH,Having seen in the pages of one of your contemporaries several deeply interesting letters telling of "the Courtesy of the CAVENDISH," I think it will be pleasing to your readers to learn that I have a fund of anecdote concerning the politeness -the true politeness-of many other members of the Peerage. Perhaps you will permit me to give you a few instances of what I may call aristocratic amiability.

On one occasion the Duke of DITCHWATER and a Lady entered the same omnibus simultaneously. There was but one seat, and noticing that His Grace was standing, I

I called attention to the fact. "Certainly," plied His Grace, with a quiet smile, "but if I had sat down, the Lady would not have enjoyed her present satisfactory position!" The Lady herself had taken the until then vacant place! Shortly afterwards I met Viscount VERMILION walking in an opposite direction to the path I myself was pursuing. "My Lord, "I murmured, removing my hat, "I was quite prepared to step into the gutter." "It was unnecessary,"

turned his Lordship, graciously, "for as the path was wide, there was room enough for both of us to pass on the same pavement!"

On a very wet evening I saw My Lord ToмNODDICOMB coming from a shop in Piccadilly. Noticing that his Lordship had no defence against the weather, I ventured to offer the Peer my parapluie.

"Please let me get into my carriage," observed his Lordship. Then discovering, from my bowing attitude, that I meant no insolence by my suggestion, he added. And as for your umbrella-surely on this rainy night you can make use of it yourself?"

Yet again. The Marchioness of LOAMSHIRE was on the point of crossing a puddle.

Naturally I divested myself of my greatcoat, and threw it as a bridge across her Ladyship's dirty walk.

The Marchioness smiled, but her Ladyship has never forgotten the circumstance, and I have the coat still by me.

And yet some people declare that the wives of Members of the House of Lords are wanting in consideration!

Believe me, dear Mr. Punch,

Yours enthusiastically,

The Cringeries, Low Booington.

S. NOB.

NOTICE.-No. XXV. of "Travelling Companions" next week.

THE JUDGES IN COUNCIL.

["All the judicial wisdom of the Supreme Court has met in solemn and secret conclave, heralded by letters from the heads of the Bench, admitting serious evils in the working of the High Court of Justice; a full working day was appropriated for the occasion; the learned Judges met at 11 A.M. (nominally) and rose promptly for luncheon, and for the day, at 1:30 P.M. Two-and-a-half hours' work, during which each of the twenty-eight judicial personages no doubt devoted all his faculties and experience to the discovery, discussion, and removal of the admittedly numerous defects in the working of the Judicature Acts! Two-and-a-half hours, which might have been stolen from the relaxations of a Saturday afternoon! Two - and -a- - half hours, for which the taxpayers of the United Kingdom pay some eight hundred guineas! Truly the spectacle is eminently calculated to inspire the country with confidence and hopes of reform."-Extract from Letter to the Times.] SCENE-A Room at the Royal Courts. Lord CHANCELLOR, Lord CHIEF JUSTICE, MASTER of the ROLLS, Lords Justices, Justices.

L. C. Well, I'm very glad to see you all looking so well, but can anyone tell me why we've met at all?

L. C. J. Talking of meetings, do you remember that Exeter story dear old JACK TOMPKINS used to tell on the Western Circuit ?

[Proceeds to tell JACK TOMPKINS's story at great length to great interest of Chancery Judges.

M.R. (who has listened

with marked impatience). Why, my dear fellow, it isn't a Western Circuit story at all. It was on the Northern Circuit at Appleby. [Proceeds to tell the same story all over

again, substituting Appleby for Exeter. At the conclusion of story, Great laughter from Chancery Judges. Common Law Judges look bored, having all told same story on and about their own Circuits. L. C. Very good-very good-used to tell it myself on the South Wales Circuit-but what have we met for?

Lord Justice A. I say, what do you think about this cross-examination fuss? It seems to me

L. C. J. Talking of cross-examination-do you fellows remember the excellent story dear old JOHNNIE BROWBEAT used to tell about the Launceston election petition?

Fee-simple.

[Proceeds to tell story in much detail. L. C. looks uncomfort

able at its conclusion.

M. R. (cutting in). Why, my dear fellow, it wasn't Launceston at all, it was Lancaster, and

[Tells story all over again to the Chancery Judges.

L. C. Yes-excellent. I thought it took place at Chester-but really, now, we must get to business. So, first of all, will anyone kindly tell me what the business is?

Mr. Justice A. (a very young Judge). Well, the fact is, I believe the Public

Chorus of Judges. The what?

Mr. Justice A. (with hesitation). Why-I was going to say there seems to be a sort of discontent amongst the Public

L. C. (with dignity). Really, really-what have we to do with the Public? But in case there should be any truth in this extraordinary statement, I think we might as well appoint a Committee to look into it, and then we can meet again some day and hear what it is all about.

L. C. J. Yes, a Committee by all means; the smaller the better. "Too many cooks," as dear old HORACE puts it.

M. R. Talking of cooks, isn't it about lunch time?

[General consensus of opinion in favour of lunching. As they adjourn, L. C. J. detains Chancery Judges to tell them a story about something that happened at Bodmin, and, to prevent mistakes, tells it in West Country dialect. M. R. immediately repeats it in strong Yorkshire, and lays the venue at Bradford. Result; that the whole of HER MAJESTY's Courts in London were closed for one day.

That are "Divisions" now,

We remember, we remember

The flourishing of trumps, When Parliament took up our wrongs, And manned the legal pumps. Those noble Acts (they said) would end Obstructions and delay,

THE HERO OF THE SUMMER SALE. (By our own Private and Confidential Poetess.) I WOULD I loved some belted Earl, Some Baronet, or K.C.B., But I'm a most unhappy girl,

And no such luck's in store for me!
I would I loved some Soldier bold,
Who leads his troops where cannons pop,
But if the bitter truth be told-

I love a man who walks a shop!
For oh! a King of Men is he-
With princely strut and stiffened spine-
So his, and his alone, shall be,

This fondly foolish heart of mine!

MONDAY, Jan. 18, 1892. "Bath and West And Silken Gowns have feared the frowns of England's Society's Cheese School at Upon a "Baron's" brow. Frome." Of this School, the Times, judging by results, speaks highly of "the practical character of the instruction given at the School." This is a bad look-out for Eton and Harrow, not to say for Winchester and Westminster also. All parents who wish their children to be "quite the cheese" in Society generally, and particularly for Bath and the West of England, where, of course, Society is remarkably exclusive, cannot do better, it is evident, than send them to the Bath and West of England Cheese School.

And ne'er again would litigants
The piper have to pay.

I remember, I remember

Expenses, mountains high;

I used to think, when duly "taxed,"
They'd vanish by-and-by.

It was a foolish confidence,
But now 'tis little joy

To know that Law's as slow and dear
As when I was a boy!

ON THE TRAILL.-It is suggested that in future M.P. should stand for Minor Poet. Would this satisfy Mr. LEWIS MORRIS? Or would he insist on being gazetted as a Major?

"the

express simpler sentiments, and

The following Page.

the more elemental emotions" (I use Mr. HENLEY'S prefatory words), and are scarcely the sort of verse that boys are likely, or ought to care about. To be sure, Mr. HENLEY guards himself on the score of his "personal equation"-I trust his boys understand what he means. My own personal equation makes me doubt whether Mr. HENLEY has done well in including such pieces as, for instance, HERBERT'S "Memento Mori," CURRAN'S "The Deserter," SWINBURNE'S "The Oblation," and ALFRED AUSTIN'S "Is Life Worth Living?" If Mr. HENLEY, or anybody else who happens to possess a personal equation, will point out to me the heroic quality in these poems, I shall feel deeply grateful. And how, in the name of all that is or ever was heroic, has "Auld Lang Syne" crept into this collection of heroic verse? As for Mr. ALFRED AUSTIN, I cannot think by what right he secures a place in such a compilation. I have rarely read a piece of his which did not contain at least one glaring infelicity. In "Is Life Worth Living?" he tells us of "blithe herds," which (in compliance with the obvious necessities of rhyme, but for no other reason)

"Wend homeward with unweary feet,
Carolling like the birds."
Further on we find that

"England's trident-sceptre roams
Her territorial seas,"

merely because the unfortunate sceptre has to rhyme somehow to "English homes."

But I have a further complaint against Mr. HENLEY. He presumes, in the most fantastic manner, to alter the well-known titles of celebrated poems. "The Isles of Greece" is made to masquerade as The Glory that was Greece "Auld Lang Syne" becomes "The verted into "The Perfect Sailor." This surely Goal of Life," and "Tom Bowline" is con(again I use the words of Mr. HENLEY)" is a thing, preposterous, and distraught." has done his part well. His manner is bad. His selection, it seems to me, is open to grave censure, on broader grounds than the mere personally equational of which he speaks, and his choppings, and sub-titles, and so forth, are not commendable. The irony of literary history has apparently ordained that Mr. HENLEY should first patronise, and then "cut," both CAMPBELL and MACAULAY. Was the shade of MACAULAY disturbed when he learnt that Mr. HENLEY considered his "Battle of Naseby" both "vicious and ugly"? BARON DE BOOK-WORMS & Co.

the whole, I cannot think that Mr. HENLEY

NOTICE-Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, w in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.

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THE DEALER SAID, "THE MARE COULD STAY FOR EVER." SHE SEEMED INCLINED TO DO SO WHEN JONES WISHED TO BE AFTER THE HOUNDS.

TO THE QUEEN.

(From the Nation.)

QUEENLY as womanly, those words that start From sorrow's lip strike home to sorrow's heart.

Madam, our griefs are one;

But yours, from kinship close and your high place, [grace

The keener, mourning him in youth's glad Who loved you as a son.

We mourn him too. Our wreaths of votive flowers

Speak, mutely, for us. The deep gloom that lowers

To-day across the land

Is no mere pall of ceremonial grief.
'Tis hard in truth, though reverent belief
Bows to the chastening hand.

Hard-for his parents, that young bride, and

"LA GRIPPE."

("I'm a devil! I'm a devil!" croaked Barnaby Rudge's Raven 'Grip': And this is a raven-mad sort of Edgar-Allan-Poem by Un qui est Grippé.)

ONCE upon a midnight dreary
Coming home I felt so weary,
Felt, oh! many a pain; so curious,
Which I'd never felt before.
Then to bed,-no chance of napping,
Blankets, rugs about me wrapping,

Feverish burning pains galore.
"Oh! I've got it! oh!" I muttered,
"Influenza!! what a bore!!"

Only this!!-Oh!!-Nothing more!!
Oh! my head and legs are aching!
Now I'm freezing! Now I'm baking!
Clockwork in my cerebellum!

Oh! all over me I'm sore!
In my bed I'm writhing, tossing,
Yet I'm in a steamer, crossing.
While KIRALFY's Venice bossing,
I'm "against" and RUSSELL "for"
In a case about the Echo,

Somewhere out at Singapore!
It's delirium!!! Nothing more.
Then a Doctor comes in tapping
Me all over, tapping, rapping,
And with ear so close and curious
Pressed to stethoscope, "Once more,"
Says he, "sing out ninety-ninely,
Now again! You do it finely!
Yes! Not bigger than a wine lee,
There's the mischief, there's the corps
Of the insect that will kill us,
Hiding there is the Bacillus ;

Only that, and nothing more!"
"Why's he here with fear to fill us?
Will he leave me, this Bacillus ?
Not one bone do I feel whole in,

And of strength I 've lost my store."
Thus I to the Doctor talking,
Ask "When shall I go out walking "?