Volume 101 — "SAVE ME FROM MY FRIENDS!"
Reading edition
SCENE—A Place of Meeting. Enter Parliamentary Leader and his Subordinate. They greet one another effusively.
Leader (cordially). And now, my dear fellow, how are my interests?
Sub. (with much heartiness). Getting on capitally! Just been writing to all the papers to say that it is stupid to call you "Old Dot-and-go-one," because it is inapplicable to either your age or your mode of controversy.
Lead. (with a feeble smile). That was kind of you! But who had said it?
Sub. (airily). Oh, someone of about fourth-rate importance! and it had been quite forgotten you know. So I dragged it up again, and put it all right for you.
Lead. (shaking hands). Thanks, so very much. But if persons had forgotten it, why revert to it?
Sub. Oh, don't you see? Why, the point is, you are not a bit like it-not a scrap like it! Next week I shall write and say that it's rubbish to call you a turncoat, because you have always been consistent.
Lead. (anxiously). But is anybody calling me a turncoat?
Sub. Not that I know of, but they might, don't you see. So it's as well to be on the safe side. I shall say that, if any one did call you a turncoat, that the speaker would prove himself a liar! That ought to give you a leg up, oughtn't it?
Lead. (with some hesitation). My dear friend, you are most kind; but if you don't mind, I would be so immensely obliged if you would leave my interests alone.
Sub. (with great cordiality). What, leave your interests alone! Never! You may be always sure of my hearty support!
Lead. (earnestly). But as a personal matter, I must beg of you kindly to leave me alone.
Sub. (reluctantly). Well, of course, if you make it a personal matter, I must consent. But the Party will suffer.
Lead. (dryly). Possibly—from your point of view. [Exeunt.
JAWFUL NEWS!—The Diminution of the Jaw in the Civilised Races is the title of a pamphlet by Mr. F. HOWARD COLLINS. We haven't read it; but if it be in favour of the diminution of "jaw," we heartily recommend its study to all Members of Parliament, actual or intending, and to all post-prandial speechmakers generally.
BUMBLEDOM'S BIG OPENING.
Bumble
. "DON'T BOTHER ME ABOUT YOUR DRAINAGE AND SICH! WHY, NOW THE SWELLS IS 'OOKIN' IT, I'M A-GOING TO BE CHAIRMAN OF THE COUNTY COUNCIL!"
Bumble (after reading Dr. T. Orme Duffield's Report to the Vestry of Kensington on the health and sanitary condition of the district), loquitur:—
Oh bother this sanit'ry bosh! Always piping the same dull old strains, One would think there wos nothink in life to be done but go sniffing the Drains! Wich my nose is a dalicot one, and I don't like the job, not by lumps; And I won't be perpetual poked up by these peeping and prying old pumps. "Bumbledom and Disease!" I like that,—like the Times' dashed himperence, I think. We porochial pots is to pass all our time a-prospecting for Stink! Doctor DUDFIELD thinks WE should inspeck, periodical, all privit dwellings, Discover and show up defecks, sech as fumings and leakings, and smellings, As "lurk unsuspected about," which the tenants theirselves do not twig, And the landlords, in course, don't remove. Well, your tenant is mostly a pig, And your landlord is sometimes a 'og; still between 'em we jest slip along, But do dooty for both of 'em? Snakes! that is coming it slightly too strong. The tenants 'old on jest as long as they can, and the landlords 'old orf. A sort of a ketchy sore-throat, or a bit of a qualm or a korf, Make some idjots go fair orf their chumps on diphtheria, and typhod and such; But then others, who don't like a hupset, put up with the lot, pooty much, Jest to save topsy-turvey and 'oles in the garden, and mud on the stairs; Landlords, likeways, is dabs at postponing, and patching, and 'ushing up scares. But if we are to spot wot goes quisby, and be the responsible chaps, Wheugh! we should 'ave a regular beanfeast with sockets and air-pipes and traps! No, no, westry worrying sneaks, it won't work. As for "W.B.E." He may frighten the Kensington lot, he won't 'ave no effeck upon Me! Diphtheria be jolly well dashed! It is often, as DUDFIELD explains, Mere "follicular(—hem!—) tonsillitis." Me bother my 'ed about Drains? Go to! I 'ave got other fish, in a manner of speaking, to fry, That L.C.C. gave itself airs and declared it would wipe my old heye With its bloomin' Big Pots and "Progressives." Aha! where the doose are they now? Mister ROSEBERY resigned, regular sick of bad manners and endless bow-wow; Now LIBBOCK and FARRER are orf. FARRER gave the Times one in the eye, 'Cos it seemed for to 'int even he of them precious Progressives wos shy. Swears their manners is quite up to dick, most consid'rit, and all that there stuff. Well they may 'ave been Brummels of course, but he seems to 'ave 'ad quite enough! 'Owsomever, wotever the cause, now they're quit of the Great Toffy Three, They must 'ave a new Chairman, in course, and—ha! ha!—wot a hopening for Me!! Porochial Bumble must rule, spite of fads, in a steady and sane age, And 'aving a heye on High Orfice I can't waste my time on mere Drainage!
[Kicks Report, and strikes an attitude.
TRUE LITERARY EXCLUSIVENESS.
"DON'T YOU ADMIRE ROBERT BROWNING AS A POET, MR. FITZSNOOK?"
"I USED TO, ONCE; BUT EVERYBODY ADMIRES HIM NOW, DON'TCHERKNOW—SO I'VE HAD TO GIVE HIM UP!"
Hide and Seek.
Ah! Pirate KID's Treasure has done good we know, It suggested a rattling good story to POE. But the "Syndicate" started to seek where 'tis hid, Will probably find that same Treasure—"all KID!"