Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 6

to ride down to the Derby._
_Horse-Owner_. "I'LL CHARGE YOU THIRTY BOB FOR THE DAY, GUV'NOR; OR--LOOK HERE!--GIMME TWO POUND, AND YOU MAY KEEP HIM!"]
* * * * *
CODLINGSBY JUNIOR;
OR, A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK.
_BEING FRAGMENTS OF A FORTHCOMING POLITICAL PRIZE NOVEL._
[In a letter to The Times on "Party Organisation," Mr. CONINGSBY DISRAELI vigorously rallies the Tory Party on their "eternal and infernal apathy." He says, "Since we have borrowed some Liberal principles, let us borrow some Liberal tactics, and introduce what I would call the Schnadhorstian methods into our councils of war. They, at least, have the merit of success."]
* * * * *
It was CODLINGSBY JUNIOR, who saved the Vraibleusian Party after the battle of Bahborough. By sending a stern and staccato epistle to the "Jupiter Tonans"; by praising (and imitating) Colonel DE CAUCUSINE, the real inspiring spirit in the camp of the victorious GRANDOLMAN, the march of the Hubbabub army was stopped--the menaced empire of Vraibleusia was saved from the flowing tide of Radical ruin; the Marquis of STROKEFOGIES appeared in a blaze of triumph that outblazed even the Berlin "Peace with Honour" business, and CODLINGSBY JUNIOR "took the cake."
* * * * *
The dinner over, the young men rushed from their Club (White's), flushed, full fed, and eager for battle. If the Blues were angry, the Buffs were also on the alert.
"I can have a dinner at any hour," said CODLINGSBY JUNIOR; "but a Blue and Buff row"--(a shillelagh here flying through the window crashed "the cake" from CODLINGSBY's hand)--"a Blue and Buff row is a novelty to me. The Buffs have the best of it, clearly, though; the Cads outnumber the Swells. Ha! a good blow! How that burly Caucusite went down before yonder slim young fellow in the primrose pants!"
"That is the Lord TIDDLEMPOPS," said a companion. "A light weight, but a pretty fighter," CODLINGSBY remarked. "Well hit with your left, Lord TIDDLEMPOPS; well parried, Lord TIDDLEMPOPS; claret drawn, by Jingo!"
"He never can be going to match himself against that Wirepuller!" CODLINGSBY exclaimed, as an enormous Caucusite--no other than SCHNADDY, indeed, the famous ex-Brummagem bruiser, before whose fists the Blues went down like ninepins--fought his way up to the spot where, pluckily, but a little too negligently, TIDDLEMPOPS and one or two of his young friends were bringing aristocratic laissez faire to bear against the fortiter in re of the fighting Caucusite Cads.
The young noble faced the huge champion with the languid gallantry of his race, but was no match for the enemy's brawn and biceps, and went down in every round. His organisation, in fact, though fine, was not sufficiently firm and well-knit to face the sinewy and skilful SCHNADDY. The brutal fellow, who meant business, had no mercy on the lad, who meant larks. His savage treatment chafed CODLINGSBY JUNIOR, as he viewed the unequal combat from White's window.
"Hold your hand!" he cried to the Goliath. "Don't you see he's but a novice?"
"Down he goes again!" the wiry Wirepuller cried, not heeding the interruption. "Down he goes again! I like whopping a swell!"
"Coward!" shouted CODLINGSBY. "The sight makes me feel quite Dizzy. A CODLINGSBY to the rescue!" and to fling open the window, amidst a shower of malodorous missiles, to vault over the balcony, and slide down one of the pillars to the ground, baring his steely biceps in the process, and shying the "castor" from his curly looks with all the virile grace of the Great Earl, was the work of exactly five-sixths of a second.
At the sixth-sixth he stood before the enormous Wirepuller.
"SCHNADDY, my boy," he exclaimed, "I'm going to fight you with your own weapon--and wallop you. Look to yourself, churl Caucusite!"
"DIZZY's _Double, by all that's theosophical!_" faltered SCHNADDY, shrinking at once to half his previous size, under the influence of the startling sight, and the yet more startling "spank" from young DIZZY's dexter bunch-of-fives.
* * * * *
When SCHNADDY, after six weeks' bed and bandaging, at last came out of hospital, his occupation as Wirepuller was gone. CODLINGSBY JUNIOR had stepped into his shoes, and the late "Organiser of Victory" and his Party had not "the least little bit of a look in."
* * * * *
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
The Baron's Assistant Reader has been dipping into _Robert Browning--Essays and Thoughts_, by JOHN T. NETTLESHIP. (ELKIN MATHEWS, Vigo Street.) He advises all other readers to grasp his nettleship boldly. At last the Baron's A.R. thinks he understands "Childe Roland," after reading the twenty-five pages which Mr. NETTLESHIP devotes to the explanation of this noble but tantalising poem. Mr. NETTLESHIP's attitude is that of a fervent, but humble disciple, for whom his Master's every word possesses deep and subtle meanings. He believes with GEORGE ELIOT that "the words of genius bear a wider meaning than the thought which prompted them." That