Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 8

FITZ gives CALVERLEY's Examination Paper, and also an Oxford imitation of it, which, however, is not by any means up to the CALVERLEY-BLADES mark. There is also a preface to _Pickwick_, specially interesting, as not being found in later editions. Then our Fitz informs us how many dramatic versions of Pickwick there have been, some with and some without music, bringing the list down to the latest "Dramatic Cantata" (it oughtn't to have been so described, as there was dialogue in it), the music of which will always hold a first place among the compositions of the Musical Baron's friend claiming to be the gifted descendant of the Wise and Musical King SOLOMON.
Altogether a vote of thanks should be presented to Mr. PERCY FITZGERALD for his entertaining, instructive, and most readable book on the immortal _Pickwick_, says THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.
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[Illustration: TELEPHONIC COMMUNICATION.
Husband (_off to Paris_). "DON'T CRY, DARLING. IT'S TOO SAD TO LEAVE YOU, I _KNOW_! BUT YOU CAN TALK TO ME THERE JUST AS IF WE WERE TOGETHER--ONLY BE CAREFUL, AS IT'S EXPENSIVE!"
Wife. "IS IT, DARLING? HA-HA-HADN'T YOU BETTER LEAVE ME A FEW BLANK CHEQUES?"]
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TALKING BY TIME.
The growing pressure of the business having already obliged the Belgium Postal Authorities to cut down the time allowed for a telephonic communication between Paris and Brussels, from five minutes to three, it is to be presumed that the rush of public patronage that may be expected when the wire is opened between London and the French Capital, will soon necessitate the substitution, in place of the promised ten minutes, of an allowance to each speaker of a minute, or at most a minute and a half for his interview, which it may confidently be expected will not unfrequently take the following shape:--
Inexorable Official. Now, Sir; your turn next.
[_Shuts intending London Talker in, and switches him "on."_
London Talker. Dear me! How quick they are, one hardly knows what one is about. I wonder how loud, now, one ought to speak. Better shout. Anyhow, I'll try that first. (_At the top of his voice through the tube._) Hullo! Hi! I say. Are you there?
Paris Listener (_replying_). Oh! don't bawl like that. Of course I'm here, I've been waiting quite half a minute; thought you were never going to begin. But I suppose it is JONES I am speaking to?
London Talker. Oh yes, I'm JONES. It's all right. But can't you recognise my voice?
Paris Listener. Not when you bawl fit to break the drum of one's ear. But come, now, get on quick with what you want to say.
London Talker. All right--I'll get on. But now tell me, do I pitch my voice about right now? Can you catch distinctly all I say?
Paris Listener. Oh yes! Bother! But do get on. Timesgoifast.
London Talker. What? I didn't catch that last word. Time's what?
Paris Listener (_very distinctly, with emphasis_). I said--that--time--was--going fast. Can you hear that?
London Talker. Oh yes, I can hear that, and most distinctly. Really, it is a most wonderful invention.
Paris Listener. Oh, bother the invention! Do come to business! What did you want me for?
London Talker. Oh. of course. Well, it was just this. I thought--
Inexorable Official. Time's up, Sir. Trouble you to make room for this Lady.
[_Switches him "off," and turns him out._
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"THAT CON-FOUNDLAND DOG!"
Mr. JOHN BULL _loquitur_:--
"Love me, love my Dog!" Well, I don't want to flog The fine but excitable fellow. With a nip on his tail e'en a Bull wouldn't fail To bounce round a bit, and to bellow. I'd do my square best with the greatest good will, If only he'd--just for a moment--stand still.
Stand still, with a nip like crocodile's grip On one's caudal appendage? Ah, just so! I know 'tis a task that seems too much to ask. I'm reasonable,--or I trust so. But there is the Lobster, it's holding on fast. And--hang it! this state of affairs cannot last!
How came it about? That's a matter of doubt, Which there isn't much use in discussing, To part them's my aim; I would manage that same Without either fighting or fussing. Newfoundland or not, there's no dog finds it nice To live very long with its tail in a vice!
I want to get near if I can, but, oh dear! The Dog to my call won't attend. I Conceive, if he would, it might be for his good, I'd hit on some modus vivendi. But if Dog _won't_ stand still, and if Lobster _won't_ loose, My heartiest help cannot be of much use.
One ANDROCLES bold eased a lion of old Of a thorn in his foot--a great worry! But ANDROCLES, sure, would have failed of a cure If poor Leo had kept on the scurry, As you, my dear Dog, do at present. _Verb. sap.!_