Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 4

and House Painters,
against lack of employment. Go about singing, "Oh, call the Fog-Fiend
back to us!" with refrain, "Oh, when the Fogs were here with us, Would
we had used them more!"
1909.--Last surviving Chimney-sweeper, provided with a

well-ventilated chamber at Madame Tussaud's. Special charge of
sixpence for adults, threepence for children, made for 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.
* * * * *
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.
* * * * *
[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!"]
* * * * *
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!
* * * * *
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.
* * * * *
MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN.
(_CONDENSED AND REVISED VERSION BY MR. P.'S OWN
HARMLESS IBSENITE._)

NO. II.--NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE (ET DIKKISVÖIT).
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