Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 4

privilege of seeing him.
1910.--Rest of inhabitants of England, as well as foreign invalids, flock to London because of noted purity and salubrity of its climate. Riviera deserted. London a little over-crowded, but very clean.
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THREE ACRES AND AN EGG.
The following pleasing announcement appears in the advertisement columns of the East of Fife Record.--
WANTED, COTTAGERS and others to HATCH EGGS. Liberal Terms. Apply, &c.
We are glad to see the men of Fife thus taking the lead in creating new openings for the agricultural labourer. Of course the weather will have much influence upon the success of the new avocation. To sit out hatching eggs in one of such blizzards as we have had since Christmas would be exceedingly inconvenient, upon whatever "Liberal terms." But, given a fair summer day or a quiet autumn evening, there seems something quite idyllic in the picture of the agricultural labourer sitting out in his own Three Acres hatching eggs,--probably laid by the Cow.
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[Illustration: OLD FRIENDS.
"DO YOU EVER SEE BOBBIE BOUNCER NOW?"
"OH DEAR NO! HE'S FAR TOO GREAT A SWELL! IF ONE PITCHES INTO ANYTHING HE DOES, HE CUTS UP ROUGH, IF YOU PLEASE, AND GIVES ONE THE COLD SHOULDER! THOSE VERY SUCCESSFUL FELLOWS ALWAYS DO!"
"AND BILL JAKES?"
"POOR OLD STICK-IN-THE-MUD! HAD TO DROP HIM! DOOCID SIGHT TOO FOND OF TELLING ONE THE PLAIN TRUTH ABOUT ONESELF, WHEN ONE'S NOT INCLINED FOR IT, YOU KNOW! ALWAYS THE WAY WITH THOSE FELLOWS WHO DON'T GET ON!"]
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THE FRIEND OF LABOUR.
How doth the provident M.P. Improve each shining hour, And in the "Labour Question" see Hopes of return to power!
How skilfully he shapes his "sell," How neatly spreads his "fakes"! On Labour's ear they sound right well, The promises he makes.
Skilled Labour, Labour without skill, He would have busy, too; Nay, he would find some Labour still For idle "hands" to do.
Yet, Labour, whatsoe'er he say, To trust him be not fast; Or you'll discover, some fine day, He'll diddle you at last!
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QUEER QUERIES.--COMBUSTIBLES.--I have five hundred barrels of Kerosene Oil, and three hundred of Paraffin, stored in a large room in the basement of my premises. Upstairs, on the top floor, there are about two hundred assistants at work. I now want to use part of the same room for the manufacture of fireworks. The place I don't think is too dark, as I have it constantly lighted by naked gas-jets. Would there be any need to take out a licence? The surrounding property, although very crowded, is only of a poor description.--INSURED.
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MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN.
(_CONDENSED AND REVISED VERSION BY MR. P.'S OWN HARMLESS IBSENITE._)
NO. II.--NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE (ET DIKKISV?IT).
ACT III.
_The same Room--except that the sofa has been slightly moved, and one of the Japanese cotton-wool frogs has fallen into the fireplace. Mrs. LINDEN sits and reads a book--but without understanding a single line._
_Mrs. Linden_ (_laying down book, as a light tread is heard outside_). Here he is at last! (_KROGSTAD comes in, and stands in the doorway._) Mr. KROGSTAD, I have given you a secret rendezvous in this room, because it belongs to my employer, Mr. HELMER, who has lately discharged you. The etiquette of Norway permits these slight freedoms on the part of a female Cashier.
_Krogs._ It does. Are we alone? (_NORA is heard overhead dancing the Tarantella._) Yes, I hear Mrs. HELMER's fairy footfall above. She dances the Tarantella now--by-and-by she will dance to another tune! (_Changing his tone._) I don't exactly know why you should wish to have this interview--after jilting me as you did, long ago, though?
_Mrs. L._ Don't you? I do. I am a widow--a Norwegian widow. And it has occurred to me that there may be a nobler side to your nature somewhere--though you have not precisely the best of reputations.
[Illustration: "Oh, you prillil squillikins!"]
_Krogs._ Right. I am a forger, and a money-lender; I am on the staff of the Norwegian _Punch_--a most scurrilous paper. More, I have been blackmailing Mrs. HELMER by trading on her fears like a low cowardly cur. But, in spite of all that--(_clasping his hands_)--there are the makings of a fine man about me _yet_, CHRISTINA!
_Mrs. L._ I believe you--at least, I'll chance it. I want some one to care for, and I'll marry you.
_Krogs._ (_suspiciously_). On condition, I suppose, that I suppress the letter denouncing Mrs. HELMER?
_Mrs. L._ How can you think so? I am her dearest friend: but I can still see her faults, and it is my firm opinion that a sharp lesson will do her all the good in the world. She is much too comfortable. So leave the letter in the box, and come home with me.
_Krogs._ I am wildly happy! Engaged to the female Cashier of the Manager who has discharged