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JOHN BRIGHT'S NEW REFORM BILL.-"REFORM YOURSELVES!"

"It is a fact that no Government, that no administration, that no laws, that no amount of industry or of commerce, that no extent of freedom can give prosperity and solid comfort to the homes of the people unless there be in those homes economy, temperance, and the practice of virtue. (Cheers.) This which I am preaching is needful for all. But it is specially needful for those whose possessions are the least abundant and the least secure. If we could subtract from the ignorance, the poverty, the suffering, the sickness, and the

crime, which are now witnessed among us, the ignorance, the poverty, the suffering, the sickness and the crime which are caused by one single, but most prevalent, bad habit or vice-the drinking needlessly of that which destroys body and mind and home and family;-do we not all feel that this country would be so changed, and so changed for the better, that it would be almost impossible for us to know it again."-Peroration of the Right Honourable John Bright's Speech at Birmingham, Tuesday, January 11.

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A GRACIOUS EVANS, AND A CHARMING

DICK WHITTINGTON.

D

9

OPTIONAL TAXATION.

"A'M thunkin," says MR. DUNCAN M'CRAE, "that the maist interestin' soobjic o' conseederation, an' reflection, sax days oot o' the ELIGHTED Punch begs to ex- seeven, is feenance. It is the ane towpic aye uppermaist in ma mind. press his great personal obli- My ain feenance is what preencipally an' habitually occupies ma gations to MR. EVANS, one thochts; an' whan I hae dune thunkin' o' that, then A' thunk aboot of the Clowns in the Crystal the nation's. Noo, A' conseeder there's nae method o' raisin the Palace Pantomime. MR. wind iver devised by ony Chauncellor o' the Exchequer sae gude, an' EVANS has given Mr. Punch sae ingenious, an' sae comparatively tolerable as the seestem o' imposin' a kind and degree of plea- licenses for this that an' the ither luxury. It's a plan ye can just tax sure which Mr. Punch, as yoursel' by, pay a duty on superfluities gin ye will, an' it suits your an ancient Paterfamilias, purpose, or gang withoot and save the money. Tax ma dog, tax ma rather blasé to Christmas creest, tax onything ye like that A' can dispense wi'; but dinna tax ma junketings and jollifications whusky-dinna tax my income. Dinna hender me frae layin up a generally, whether in the suffeecient proveesion for my auld age. shape of turkeys or transformation scenes, pudding or pantomime, did not think it was in Christmas clowning to give him.

Noo, Punchie, there's naethin a mon can better want than a wife an' fawmily, specially a fawmily. They're nae neccessawries o' life, an' I hae kent verra few cases where they were comforts. Whether onybodie will be burdened wi' 'em or not a' thegither depends upon himsel'. Weel, wi' a view towards makin' taxation voluntary, an' by This Crystal Palace Clown way o' soobstitute for the dreadfu' income-tax, what wad ye say to the is not only a very surprising notion o' compellin ivery Paterfamilias o' noo taxable income, or leaper, and an excellent Materfamilias, if the Pater is eenaccessible, to tak oot a license for tumbler, his tumbling hav- ilka ane o' their progeny? Hech, the over-population o' the kintra's ing, as all good clowns' just awfu', an' sic an impost wad accord preceesly wi' poleetical as tumbling should have, hu-weel as personal economy, A' niver could afford matrimony mysel', mour, character, and mean- an' think it hard that ma' sma' profits, an' gains, an' deevidends, an' ing in it, but he understands that Clown is a great acting part, and rents, an' interest on loan an' mortgage suld be taxed to cheapen the he acts it, as Mr. Punch has not seen it acted since his dear old friend cost o' ither men's bairns. Forbye the Bearins Tax then, in his next JOEY GRIMALDI was permanently engaged for the great Olympic Boodjet, let BOBBIE Lowe just clap on a Bairns Tax. An' noo dinna pantomime, vice Momus discharged. He is one of two clowns in the say a Scotchman canna mak' a joke. pantomime; and the other,-RowELLA,-is extremely good also, though in a less exceptional way. MR. EVANS makes out by far the most amusing scenes of the Harlequinade, without one of those silly flap or box tricks which are so deadly dull, entirely out of the proper Clown's occupations of shop-lifting and love-making; and he transacts both with a humour, significance, and drollery combined, which, by themselves, would carry off a far worse Pantomime.

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Mr. Punch must further offer a word of thanks to MISS CAROLINE PARKES, the young lady who plays Dick Whittington. She sings sweetly and correctly, acts with great spirit and intelligence, speaks her lines with point and distinctness, dances sailors' hornpipes, nigger breakdowns, or regular pas d'opéra with equal precision, grace, good taste, and nimbleness; and, now and then, does all these things, in the same scena, in a style that leaves one at a loss whether most to admire her many-sidedness of accomplishment, or her wonderful soundness of wind and perfection of training.

In short the managers of the Crystal Palace Pantomime have drawn two trumps-in their Clown, MR. EVANS, and their Dick Whittington, MISS CAROLINE PARKES; and Mr. Punch is delighted to pay his debt of honest acknowledgment for pleasure received at their respective dressing-room doors.

THE TRUE JOURNALIST.

M. ALBERT WOLFF, of the Figaro, writing of VICTOR NOIR, or SALMON, the victim in the wretched "free fight" at Auteuil, says :"He was twenty years old, this poor child just dead in so tragic a manner. Twenty years! The unhappy child was built like a Hercules, and gentle as a lamb. He had no time to prove whether he had talent, but his temperament was that of a true journalist. He had all the instincts of his profession, but never took the trouble to learn anything: he loved the Republic, not so much from reasoning as from a generous sentiment. Intractable when he had to defend those whom he loved, he was the kindest being in the world when his own person only was at stake. Though just twenty, he had proved his courage in several duels."

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A RE-APPEARANCE.

"MRS. KEELEY appeared at MR. CHARLES MATHEWS' benefit, in the small part of one of the Nieces in SHERIDAN's Critic, and received a perfect ovation. She seemed to have lost none of her old power, and we could not help regretting the long absence from the stage of a real genius in comedy, whom, it is not too much to say, no actress, with one exception, now before the public can approach."-General Opinion.

I SAW her for a moment,
I thought of days gone by,
When with Twice Killed
The House was filled,
And in the pit stood I.

I thought of Betsy Baker

With her bonnet and her pattens!

I ought to grow thin now-a-days,
If true, that laughter fattens.

We've farces, comedies, burlesques, and weary seek our beds,
The Legs of the profession we can see, but not its Heads.
It isn't that I'm old and like to praise a former age,
But we've scarcely got one genuine comic actress on the stage-
As I would not give offence, I will not speak my mind out freely,
But long 'twill be ere I shall see another MRS. KEELEY.

APPALLING ANNOUNCEMENT.

I SAY, you say, he says, we say, ye say, they say! Just look here! Somebody-no, we should think that we would not give him the benefit of an advertisement-announces that he has a new composition, whereof he makes table knives; something which is better than steel, for this reason, among others :

"6th.-It is also intended to make obsolete, or unnecessary, the rule of etiquette which precludes the Knife from being placed to the mouth, thus putting the eater often to inconvenience, and depriving the appetite of choice

M. WOLFF leaves us to find out which trait here especially indicates "the temperament of the true journalist": the build of the Hercules-aliment." the gentleness of the lamb-the never taking the trouble to learn any- Do we live in a century following that which held CHESTERFIELDthing-the love of the Republic, not so much from reasoning as senti- a century that holds Punch? Is the world at an end, or not? We ment-the intractability in defending others the kindness when his "only ask for information," as people say. own person was at stake-the several duels fought before he was twenty;-but, probably, we are meant to infer that all these characteristics combined make up "the true journalist." If so, happy the country, we should say, which had fewest of them. For the idea M. WOLFF's picture leaves on one is of a strong-bodied, loose-minded, unread, unreasoning, rash, quarrelsome character, reckless of his own life or that of others, with the quality of personal kindness, for its halfpennyworth of bread to its intolerable quantity of combustibles. The true journalist" should be the best possible instructor. What sort of instruction is a country to look for from journalists after M. WOLFF's ideal?

Give an Inch.

THE elevation of M. OLLIVIER to power at the head of a Liberal Ministry is significant. Such a man and such a ministry cannot allow the liberties of France and the powers of the EMPEROR to remain where they are. That France has got something by the senatus consultum the abandonment of the Personal system shows. We shall soon have "OLLIVIER asking for more." What will the Imperial Bumble say to the demand?

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Nurse. "THERE'S YOUR CAKE, MISS GEORGEY. Now, MASTER BOBBY, WHAT WILL YOU HAVE BEFORE YOU GO TO BED?" Master Bobby. "I'LL HAVE A DEVILLED TURKEY'S LEG, WELL PEPPERED, AND SOME BEER, IF YOU PLEASE."

MORE HAPPY THOUGHTS.

THE Doctor comes while we are at breakfast, and takes me by surprise. There are eggs, tongue, grilled chicken-cum-mushrooms on the table; also, coffee, tea, and preserve. I am munching buttered toast, and generally speaking haven't been so thoroughly well or less like an invalid in the whole course of my life.

Waiter says, "This is the Herr," pointing to me, and introduces us. DOCTOR CASPAR begs I won't derange myself (in excellent English), and will call again. I suppose he means call again when I've done the Mem.-It's odd that whenever a Doctor calls upon me, as a patient, suddenly, I generally happen to be looking remarkably well, and all the symptoms that made me send for him (when, of course, he couldn't come) have vanished. My idea of a doctor's visit is, that he should find one moaning, groaning, and looking wretchedly pale: also, "unable to touch a morsel," not, as CASPAR finds me, eating breakfast enough for two, and enjoying it.

buttered toast, and am more like an invalid.

Happy Thought.-Apologise for being in such good health. CAPTAIN DYNGWELL and DR. CASPAR, I perceive, know one another. They talk about what has happened in DYNGWELL'S absence. It appears that nothing has happened in his absence (which they expatiate upon to a considerable extent), whereupon he puts his glass in his eye, and asks after several "Cockalorums." [DR. CASPAR and the Captain both use glasses; the first invariably, the second occasionally.] The Cockalorums generally seem to be doing very well, judging from the Doctor's statistics, who is quite au fait at DYNGWELL'S peculiar English.

"This Cove," says DYNGWELL, when the conversation has come to a standstill, inclining his head sideways towards me, "has got the regular rumti-iddities, papsylals, and pandenoodles all in one. Reg'lar bad case-quite the invalid-give him something to rub in."

With which piece of medical advice he nods to both of us, and lounges out of the room, observing that we shall meet at the table d'hôte. Alone with the Doctor, and the remains of the breakfast. Short conversation. Serious moment. Feel that Frivolity has gone out with DYNGWELL. Doctor examines me through his eye-glass, which seems a sort of operation in itself. Decision soon arrived at; namely, that probably I've got rheumatic gout somewhere about me, and that if I don't know what's the matter with me now, I soon shall. "The waters," DR. CASPAR explains, "will bring it out, whatever it is."

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OFF, ODGER!

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MR. BRIGHT has been making some speeches at Birmingham. In one of them he discouraged the doctrine that Working Men-that is, artisans-ought to be elected to Parliament merely because they are Working Men. He thinks that this would be mere class representation. The object of electors should be to get the best man, let him be of what vocation he may.

MR. BRIGHT's view is, of course, open to be controverted. But Mr. Punch holds it undesirable that it should be controverted in language like that used by MR. ODGER, who, as a Working Man, seeks to be elected for Southwark.

MR. ODGER said,-" He was afraid that MR. BRIGHT, having basked in the sunshine of Royalty, had caught the Queen's Evil, or been inoculated by the flunkeys surrounding the throne."

This speech, GEORGE ODGER, is simply vulgar, indecent, and insolent; and whether Southwark desires to be represented by a Working Man or not, it, containing thousands of self-respecting men, cannot desire to be represented by a person capable of delivering such language. Your continuing a Candidate is an insult to your fellow Working-Men and to the rest of the Constituency. Home, and learn decency.

An Allegory in Art.

SUPPOSE Some talented Artist were to paint, for a contribution to the Royal Academy's next Show, a picture of JOHN BULL offering HIBERNIA, or COLUMBIA a baby. Title, "The Olive Branch."

The summing up appears to me to be, "If you've come all the way to Aachen without having something the matter, we'll soon knock up disease for you, and you'll be as bad as anyone here in no time." Doctor says I must begin the system to-morrow.

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System.-Rise at 6:30. Take the waters at the Elisa Fountain. Take a short walk: take this with the Concert in the garden. Take another glass: take some more Concert. Return to hotel-light breakfast-emphatically, light breakfast. I again apologise for to-day's excess in breakfast, and lay it on DYNGWELL.

stop in, twenty-five minutes. Return to hotel. Keep warm till dinnertime at 1:30, when serve myself up at table d'hote, hot.

System continued.-An hour and a half after breakfast take a bath:

Understand it all. Write it down. Determine to do it. Wonder what will be the result. Wonder what will be the matter with me when I've gone through a course of the system.

Happy Thought.-If I don't like it, shall go home.

CASPAR being gone, I am not a man again. Remember suddenly lots of things I ought to have asked him.

Make Mems to ask him when we meet again. May I take champagne? or sherry? or both. If not, which, or what? How about vegetable? How about tea and coffee? Will sugar hurt me? Will milk make any difference? Where am I to get the waters? Where is the Elisa Garden? Who gives the waters ? Must one be a subscriber to get the waters? If so-How much? If much-Can't I get the waters somewhere else? What am I to do in the bath? What am I to say when I go there? In what language am I to ask for a bath? Will they know what I want?

Happy Thought.-Ask DYNGWELL. When I ask him a few of these questions, adding that I am going through the course, he observes, interrogatively, "What, my light-hearted invalid, coming out as the perfect cure, eh?"

Must ask about learning German, Get a German professor. Quite common, I suppose, a German professor.

Happy Thought.-If they're swimming-baths, I could learn German while swimming about with a professor in the water. DYNGWELL, to whom I mention this as an idea, remarks that, as for swimming, of course it depends how much water I want for that, as the bath is only about six feet by four. Still, it is a good idea.

Happy Thought.-The Doctor, who also dines at the table d'hôte, will stop me if he sees me eating or drinking anything wrong. Can take every

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

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thing till stopped. Several English there-all invalids: also invalids
of various nations. DR. CASPAR points them out to me, so does DYNG-
WELL. DYNGWELL tells me that the Cockalorum opposite me was
quite a cripple when he came, but now, he says, "he's no end of a hand
at skittles." He nudges me (DYNGWELL is quite conversational here)
to remark the "rum coon next me on my left." I do so. He is a cheer-
fal-looking elderly gentleman in spectacles. Captain informs me that
lunatic asylum. The
"he's a Prussian Attorney in very good practice, which would be better
if he wasn't for four months in the year in
waters," DYNGWELL adds, "are bringing it out of him," (bringing
what out of him?-lunacy ?) "but he's not all right yet; in fact he's
liable to be taken worse at any moment."

Happy Thought.-Shall change my seat to-morrow.

Dining is different in Prussia to anywhere else, I believe. We start with soup and fish, as in England; after this I lose myself. Better appear as if I was accustomed to this style of living.

Happy Thought-Take a little of everything. When I dine here again shall know more about it. Besides if I'm wrong, Doctor will stop me.

Result of this determination is, that having got clear of the soup and fish, I find myself taking beef and jam (I think), chicken and cutlets, salad and stewed pears, some sort of game very bitter, and pudding and cheese on the same plate. "The whole to conclude," as the playbills say, "with the laughable farce of walnuts." Then coffee and cigars. The Doctor doesn't stop me.

I can't help remarking sotto voce to DYNGWELL, that it's a queer
sort of dinner. "You mean," says he, "it's a queer sort of mixture
you've made of it." He explains that though the waiters hand round
these dishes quickly and together, yet it's only that every one may
make a choice of what he likes. DYNGWELL says, "Never mind;
waiters will put it into you; waters will take it out of you." The
waters, according to DYNGWELL, will take everything out of you.

After dinner we all become conversational, inclining towards argu-
ment. The Skittler is introduced to me; the lunatic attorney retires
(thank goodness); a tall Englishman (who hasn't dined there) saunters
in and joins our end of the table. The theme of his conversation is
that he can dine somewhere in the town on a rumpsteak, eggs, and
beer for a shilling. Nobody denies it; and, apparently, nobody envies
him. An American moves his coffee-cup up to us, and wants to
know who's seen the paper to-day. No one has, and a lull takes place
in the conversation.

Happy Thought.-We get the English papers here.

Note.-When the Times arrives is uncertain: but it does come very early in the morning. Much dishonesty is practised to get it at once. The porter is entreated, the waiters are sent all over the hotel with indignant messages from one person to another about "keeping it so long." DYNGWELL has craftily told the porter at the door, that, at whatever hour of the morning the Times arrives, he is to come and wake him up to read it. Consequently DYNGWELL is awoke, to have first look at it: which operation, I ascertain, he performs, first, by being angry at having been roused; secondly, by getting half awake, and saying, "Hey, what? the Cockalorum with the thingummy;" thirdly, by a delay of two or three minutes, to discover "where his infernal eyeglass has got to," which he finds somewhere over his shoulder, with one string entangled in his whiskers; fourthly, to "shake himself together;" fifthly, to select one attitude for reading in bed less uncomfortable than another; and, lastly, to unfold the Times, confounding it because it isn't cut, and asking, vaguely, "Why don't they cut it, hang 'em?" He just dashes through it. I observe, while craftily waiting in my dressing-gown to take it to my own room, (and, perhaps, Happy Thought, hide it, which I admit is wrong, but if I don't, and once go out, there'll be no more chance of seeing it for to-day) to him,-"Surely you can't get much out of the Times that way?" He replies that he only wants to see if they say anything about him in it. It appears that they don't, on any morning; which causes the Captain to use a vast amount of strong language about the old Cockalorums at the Horse Guards, through whom, it seems, he has got some transactions about selling out, or purchasing in, or exchanging. I don't exactly understand what he is so irate about, but, from his explanation, I conceive that Commissions are not to be had for purchasing; or his isn't a good one for selling; or that no one will exchange with him; or that the fellow who said he would, wouldn't; or some other military difficulty.

Happy Thought.-Get DYNGWELL to explain the Army system to me. Include it under A, Typ. Devel., B. I., Vol. I. Published by POPGOOD AND GROOLLY, with Addenda to the Thirteenth Edition. Dedicated to-to-whom? Must think of that. Something to think of while I'm at Aix.

Happy Thought.-Put Times in my room. Go and take my first waters at Elisa Fountain. Porter at door tells me I must take my own tumbler. Porter at door, wonderful linguist, in a sort of uniform. Speaks every language: shouldn't be astonished if a Chinaman were to arrive, and the Porter were to tackle him in his own native tongue at once. I take my tumbler, and, feeling a little odd with it, put it in my great-coat pocket.

JEREMIAH SNEAK.

BENEDICK.

XANTIPPE.

I took a publisher, and made him tight,
And, Sir, he gave me on that novel's birth,
SCRIBO.
Twice what I'd asked, and thrice what it was worth.

I hated it. I'd nearly won my game,

He got quite spooney. "Would I change my name?"
His friend had watched-and took him out to smoke,
That sobered him. "Of course he meant a joke."
NOT VERY OLD MAID.

I loved the house. I dined there, when engaged,-
LOUISA flirted till I got enraged:

I hooked it-took her cousin, who's a duck,
And Loo's old dad has smashed. I say, what luck!
STOCK EXCHANGE.

I went to see the Ruins. I'll explain.
Just for the sake of coming back again.
The way to there was plain as any pike-
I'd never known what the road home was like.
YOUNG THIRSTY.

YOU MAY SPEAK.
Dear, dear old house! I popp'd there to MISS GADD,
She frowned, and asked me whether I was mad.
She married SPINDLESHANKS, of Bangalore,
My LORD PENZANCE can tell you something more.

ESCAPED.

THE LAST, BY JOVE. There I met EMMA, with her guardian GLYN, She married me: he left us all his tin.. My uncle over-ate himself there. Read His will. That house was dear to me, indeed. A CONTENTED MAN.

* I mean the river, but that don't rhyme.-L.

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