Punch, or The London Charivari | Page 8

you will never pay, Because no bill will ever come; And since when you decide to toddle Abroad, you'll go amidst a hum Of praise for Madame's lovely Model
Oh! promise me that when I read My paper (as I often do), I shall not with remorseless speed See endless pars in praise of you, Or rather of the dress you wore, For though, maybe, no harm or hurt is meant, Remember, dearest, I implore, I _won't_ be fond of an advertisement!
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OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
"_Days with Sir Roger de Coverley!_" exclaimed the Baron, on seeing the charming little book brought out at this season by Messrs. MACMILLAN. "Delightful! Immortal! Ever fresh! Welcome, with or without illustration; some of Mr. THOMSON's would not be missed."
There is a breezy, frank, boyish air about the "Reminiscences" of our great Baritone, CHARLES SANTLEY, which is as a tonic--a tonic sol-fa--to the reader a-weary of the many Reminiscences of these latter days. SANTLEY, who seems to have made his way by stolid pluck, and without very much luck, may be considered as the musical Mark Tapley, ready to look always on the sunny side. With a few rare exceptions, he appears to have taken life very easily.
Muchly doth the Baron like Mr. HALL CAINE's story of _Captain Davy's Honeymoon_, only, short as it is, with greater effect it might have been shorter.
The Baron, being in a reading humour, tried The Veiled Hand, by FREDERICK WICKS, a name awkward for anyone unable to manage his "r's." What Fwedewickwicks' idea of A Veiled Hand is, the Baron has tried to ascertain, but without avail. Why not a Gloved Hand? Hands do not wear veils, any more than our old friends, the Hollow Hearts, wear masks. Hands take "vails," but "that is another story." However, The Veiled Hand induced sleep, so the Baron extinguished both candles and Wicks at the same time, and slumbered.
I have also had time to read An Exquisite Fool, published by OSGOOD. MCILVAINE & CO., and written by Nobody, Nobody's name being mentioned as being the author. It begins well, but it is an old, old tale--BLANCHE AMORY and the Chevalier, and so forth--and as Sir Charles Coldstream observed, when he looked down the crater of Mount Vesuvius, "There's nothing in it."
Most interesting is a short paper on "The Green Room of the Com��die Fran?aise," in the English Illustrated Magazine for this month, pleasantly written by Mr. FREDERICK HAWKINS,--HAWKINS with an aspirate, not "'ENERY 'AWKINS" at present associated with "A CHEVALIER" in London. Mr. HAWKINS tells many amusing anecdotes, and gives a capital sketch of M. REN�� MOL��. But the article would be damaged by extracts. Therefore, "_Tolle, lege_," says yours and everybody's, very truly,
THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.
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[Illustration: "SAFE BIND, SAFE FIND!"
SERGENT-DE-VILLE. "HA, M'SIEU!--YOU HAVE YOUR DYNAMITERS UNDER LOCK AND KEY! TR��S BIEN! KEEP THEM!!"]
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[Illustration: WHAT ABOUT GLASS HOUSES?
First Jovial Cabby (_to Second Ditto_). "HI SAY, BILL, DID YER HEVER SEE SICH GUYS AS THESE 'ERE GIRLS MAKES OF THEIRSELVES? NOW, YE'D NIVER SEE A MAN GO AND MAKE SUCH A RIDIK'LOUS HOBJICK OF 'ISSELF!!"]
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A PUFF OF SMOKE.
(_What the heart of the young Vocalist said to the Anti-Tobacconist, after reading Mr. Charles Santley's sage observations on Singing and Smoking, in his new book "Student and Singer."_)
["Smoking is an art; it may be made useful or otherwise, according as it is exercised."--Mr. SANTLEY.]
Tell me not, ye mournful croakers, Smoking is a dirty habit. Brainless are ye, sour non-smokers, As a vivisected rabbit.
"Smoking is an Art," says SANTLEY; There is Beauty in the bowl. They who doubt it must be scantly Blest with sense, or dowered with soul.
As an Art it claims attention; Study is the only way. Smoking skill, not smoke-prevention, Is the thing we want to-day.
Art is long and smoke is fleeting; But puff on until you learn Good tobacco's not for eating! Pipe-bowls are not meant to burn!
Smoke without expectorating, Do not sputter, do not chew; Puff not as though emulating Some foul factory's sooty flue
Let not oily dark defilement Sting your lips; there is no need. Joy and care need reconcilement For enjoyment of the weed.
Trust no "Germans," buy no "British," Sound Havanas only smoke! "Lady Nicotine" is skittish, Penny Pickwicks are no joke.
Smoke no strong shag, no rank "stinger," Pick your baccy, puff with skill, And--although you are a singer, You may smoke, and not feel ill.
Let us then be up and smoking, An an Art the thing pursue; As great SANTLEY, who's not joking, Says he does, and all may do!
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LADY GAY'S DISTRACTION.
DEAR MR. PUNCH,--You are as fickle as the rest of your sex, I fear, otherwise you would not have requited my devotion to you and your interests in such an awful