Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 8

so given to sneering, The hate that reviles.
One wonders what TALLEYRAND, subtle old schemer! Would think of the Telephone were he alive. Wits sniff at the savant, and mock at the dreamer, Who else, though, so hard for humanity strive? BELLONA's sworn backers are woefully numerous; Peace, let us pray, may claim this as her friend; The "Sentiment" flouted by swashbucklers humorous Sways, at the end.
If language was given our thoughts for concealing, The Telephone--'tis but a travelling Voice!-- Need not be the agent of reckless revealing, And caution must often be candour's wise choice. Unwisdom is sure to be sometimes caught napping, And tongues may wag foolishly e'en through the wire. Facilities freer for summary snapping No sage can desire.
Great diplomats, proud of their "able dispatches," From trusting the tube with their wisdom may shrink. The brain that in secret shrewd policies hatches, May not care to canvas 'cute schemes "o'er a drink." Yet times must be many when sense will be winner By chatting of trifles, which nations have riled, As freely as though _vis-��-vis_ at a dinner, And carefully "tiled."
Now England and France can thus gossip together, And CARNOT and SALISBURY thus hob-a-nob, We'll hope for set-fair international weather. Our RAIKES and their ROCHE appear well "on the job." The Telephone's triumph at least is not sinister. Things should go easier somehow--with care, When patriot Minister greets patriot Minister, "_Hallo!--are you there?_"
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ANOTHER TELEPHONIC SUGGESTION.--Connect the Theatres and Opera Houses by Telephone with all the Clubs. On payment of a fixed charge, any member should be able to hear just as much of the piece or Opera as he might require. Something above the price of a Stall to be the maximum charge for one person to hear entire Opera. For half the Opera, say six shillings; for a quarter of it, three-and-six. For hearing one song in it, eighteen-pence; and, if certain songs be in great demand, the prices could be raised.
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EPIGRAMMATIC DEFINITION OF MOST PUBLIC BANQUETS WITH POSTPRANDIAL ORATORY.--"Stuff and Nonsense."
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[Illustration: PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL.
LORD SALISBURY. "HALLO!"
M. LE PR��SIDENT. "HALLO!"
LORD SALISBURY. "YOU THERE?"
M. LE PR��SIDENT. "ALL THERE!"
LORD SALISBURY. "CAN YOU SUGGEST AN _ENTR��E_ FOR DINNER?"
M. LE PR��SIDENT. "HOMARD AU GRATIN,--AND, BY THE WAY, HOW ABOUT NEWFOUNDLAND AND LOBSTER QUESTION?"
LORD SALISBURY. "NOT BY TELEPHONE, THANK YOU!!!"
[_Telephone between London and Paris opened, Monday, March 23rd._]]
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[Illustration: SUFFERING ON THE "SILVER STREAK."
THESE GENTLEMEN (AFTER A FEW HOURS' REST) DECLARED UNANIMOUSLY IN FAVOUR OF THE PROPOSED CHANNEL TUBULAR RAILWAY.]
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HANDS AS THEY ARE SHOOK.
(_NEW STYLE._)
In healthier times, when friends would meet Their friends in chamber, park, or street, Each, as hereunder, each would greet.
Tour level hand went forth; you clasped Your crony's; each his comrade's grasped-- If roughly, neither friend was rasped.
Such was the good old-fashioned one Of honest British "How d'ye do?" I think it manly still--don't you?
But now, when smug acquaintance hails A set that would be "smart," but fails, Another principle prevails.
The arm, in lifted curve displayed, Droops limply o'er the shoulder-blade, As needing some chirurgeon's aid:
The wrist is wrenched of JONES and BROWN, Those ornaments of London Town; Their listless fingers dribble down:
BROWN reaches to the knuckle-bones Of thus-excruciated JONES; BROWN's hand the same affliction owns.
At length his finger-tips have pressed The fingers of his JONES distressed: Both curvatures then sink to rest.
A sort of anguish lisped proceeds Prom either's mouth, but neither heeds The other's half-heroic deeds.
Exhausted, neither much can say; Complacent, each pursues his way; And JONES and BBOWN have lived to-day.
For both have sought by strenuous strain To demonstrate, in face of pain, That friends they were, and friends remain.
Ah, wonderful! Can Poets deem Self-sacrifice a fading dream? Are salutations what they seem?
Is BROWN some Altruist in disguise, And JONES an Ibsenite likewise, That thus they flop and agonise?--
Or are the pair affected fools, Who catch by rote the silly rules Of third-rate fashionable schools?
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COURT COLD!
(_A PAGE FROM THE DIARY OF A CHAPERON._)
They commanded her to rise early. She knew that the day's doings would be a terrible ordeal, but she came of a bold and sturdy race, and felt herself equal to any emergency. And so as the morning broke--as daylight crept through the foggy air--she prepared for the sacrifice. Yes, sacrifice; for was it not a sacrifice to barter away youth, pride, nay, life itself! And I had a hand in the matter! Ah, me--but away with vain regret!
I have been told since that they were hours and hours arranging her toilette. So long did it take that she was scarcely able to break her fast. She had, I believe, a cup of tea, and if rumour is to be credited, a couple of slices of thin bread-and-butter! Well, it