Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 9

is over now, and I can think of it almost without tears!
I called for her shortly after noon--for the lot had fallen upon me, and I was destined to attend her to her doom--she was very calm, and even smiled as I kissed her. She shivered a little as she sank beside me. I bade her to wrap her shawl more closely around her, and after she had complied with my command she seemed more at ease.
And now our conveyance had come to a full stop. We were surrounded by a sea of vulgar, hideous faces, grinning and mocking at us! My charge clung to me for protection. The laughter and the jeers increased tenfold. Then I cast her away from me roughly, whereupon followed yells mixed with savage laughter. She, poor girl, regained her composure, and gazed at the multitude with the dignity of an outraged queen. And they laughed the more! Laughed the more!
At length we were set free, and made our way to a large apartment, where we were divested of our wraps, and left in costumes better adapted to late June than to early March, or mid-December. We were then ordered to advance. We were driven from one bitterly cold room to another, until we knew not whether the blood was circulating in our veins, or had frozen. We had many fellow-sufferers, and these poor creatures pushed against us, and fought with us. The great object of everyone was to get to the end of our journey!
She staggered bravely along, until at last they took away the yards of satin she carried round her arm, and spread it out behind. Then her name was uttered, or, rather, mispronounced. She sank on her knees; and, on regaining her feet, was hustled away, to follow a number of fellow-victims who had been treated with like indignity.
Once more there was the bitter cold. This time the draughts were met in that hall, and endured, until the conveyance arrived to move us on--she to stand for a couple of hours amidst gossiping friends, and I to go to bed.
But the seeds of death were sown! She never recovered the shock, and an addition to the inscriptions above the family-vault tells of her early decease!
And who was this poor girl? A homeless one, wandering the streets of London? or a political prisoner, on her way to Siberia? Neither! She was merely a _d��butante_, attending her first (and last) Spring Drawing-room at Buckingham Palace!
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NOTE (_by Our Own Noodle_).--Father Buonaparte, at the Olympic, judging from the account of it in the Times, seems to consist of "a part" for our WILSON BARRETT, the remainder being skeletonish, or "boney."
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[Illustration: "MATTHEWS AT HOME." (NEW VERSION OF AN OLD ENTERTAINMENT.)]
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RAIKES REX!
Somebody once said that ultimately the Solar System would probably become a branch of the General Post Office. The present Postmaster-General is obviously of opinion that that state of things has already come about.
To rule a realm as limitless as space, With the great G.P.O. as Central Sun, RAIKES is the man. Of Great Panjandrum race, He's Autocrat and Oracle in one. The Universe indeed were no great shakes Without RAIKES Rex for Ruler. Vivat RAIKES!!!
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ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
_House of Commons, Monday, March_ 16.--House of Commons really looked to-night as if it meant fighting. No lack of matter for quarrel. Even before public business was reached, Orders bristled with Motions raising controversial points. Lord CHUNNEL-TANNEL, that man of peace, was to the fore; his Bill, extending Manchester. Sheffield, and Lincolnshire Railway into London via Lord's Cricket Ground, down for Second Reading. That redoubtable Parliamentary Archer BAUMANN also on alert. Has taken under his personal charge the social and material welfare of Metropolis; at one time HARRY LAWSON, on other side of House, disputed supremacy of position with him. But, as SARK says, BAUMANN has immense advantage of making Liberal speeches from Conservative side.
"If," says SARK, "I had to begin my Parliamentary life again, I would sit for a Tory borough, and advocate Radical notions. If it were possible, I would, with such a programme, like to represent one of the Universities, Oxford for choice. There's a sameness about fellows who fret up from Liberal benches and spout Radicalism, or about men who talk Toryism from the Conservative camp. It's what was expected; what the House of Commons enjoys is the unexpected. GRANDOLPH knows that very well. If he'd come out as a Liberal, he wouldn't have been half the power he is. The secret of success in political life, my young friend, is to sit in darkness, and clothe yourself with light. The thing doesn't hold good in the converse direction. A man sitting on