attributes and most exclusive prerogatives. Space she has practically annihilated; and now she is having a turn at You! Time was when what was past was past, when what Edax Rerum had once devoured knew no resurrection. But now Well, when Science can thus make the vanished Voices of the Past actually audible Voices of the Present, then, in the words of the Hibernian Magistrate in "Killaloe "Ye never know what she'll be up to next." Already she has beaten MUNCHAUSEN on his own ground. Frozen words made audible by thaw? Pooh! What is that compared with the awe-striking possibility of the ipsissima verba of cloquent GLADSTONE, or honey-tongued LEIGHTON, or ventriloquial IRVING, being ground out of this instrument, for the edification, or Edisonification, of dwellers in the tail-end of the Twentieth Century! Toby (fortissimo). Bow-wow-wo-0-0-0-w!!! Father Time (anxiously). What's the matter with that dog? He -he- -seems to be asleep, aud yet Mr. Punch (laughing). Don't alarm yourself, KRONOS. Tony is asleep, so soundly, that even his own bark-of the day before yesterday-does not awaken him! Father Time (with awe). What, do you mean to say it was that inf -that extraordinary instrument of EDISON'S that was yelping like that? Mr. Punch. Precisely! TOBY barked into it for me a day or two since. His wax-recorded yelp may be useful to frighten burglars in the year 1989. Had ANUBIS done ditto several thousand years ago, we could now compare his yaps with those of the modern Dog of Dogs. Father Time. Here, I say, don't! It's really uncanny, and, as you suggest, knocks my traditional prerogatives into a cocked hat! Mr. Punch. Never mind! After all, 'tis Vox et præterea nihi!. American Scientists are as impotent as were Egyptian mummy-makers or the Embalmers of Kôr, really to bring back the Past or to perpetuate the Present. And the Future is Ours-as Mr. GLADSTONE says of the Liberal Party. Father Time. Quite so. You may find the phonograph useful, to record for the benefit of remotest posterity your words of wisdom and scintillations of wit; eh, Mr. PUNCH? Mr. Punch. My dear KRONOS, do you not see that, practically, I am as independent of this remarkable and really interesting instrument as you are of an improved egg-boiler or patent lawn-mower? I am perennial, and have a Phonograph -or Funnigraph-of my own, invented long before the days of EDISON. Father Time. Indeed! I should so like to see it. Mr. Punch. You shall, dear Edax. Indeed you shall take it with you, if you like. It will amuse and instruct you on your lonely round between now and next New Year's Day,-when I hope to see you here again. You will find therein echoes of the most valuable Voices of the Past, the best and brightest utterance of the Voice of the Present, and not a few vocal and vaticinatory" dips into the Future!" Oh, don't be alarmed; it is not a cumbersome and complicated bit of mechanism, like this of EDISON's. It is compact and portable. Tuck it under your arm, Father TIME; it won't interfere with the comfortable carrying of your scythe and hour-glass, I assure you. For Mr. PUNCH's original, ingenious, unsurpassable Patent Funnigraph is his OUR DEBATING CLUB. . 66 I rise without any-I-I mean. that I don't feel a-a. (I could tell you the word if I could only remember the name-it's THE election of a new member to the Gargoyle Club is so seldom curious how you forget things standing up!) oh,-what I meant was attended by any incident of note, that I may be pardoned, perhaps, hesitation!" for devoting this paper to the description of almost the single excep- Having arrived at this point, he sat down very contentedly. tion in our annals. It is our invariable custom to transact all business "I won't add any words of my own," said PINCENEY, to the of this sort before proceeding to debate; and on the evening in eloquent pleas (here PERCY VERE looked deeply gratified) we have question PLUMLEY DUFF, who had proposed the candidate for elec-just listened to. The Secretary will now distribute the balls, and tion, rose to give the information necessary to enable them to the ballot-box will then be brought round in the usual manner to pronounce upon his claims to admission. Now DUFF had very each member." good-naturedly undertaken the duty at the suggestion of BOSHER, who had represented that the recommendation would fall with far greater weight from him, and that, in DUFF's hands, the election was safe. "Well, Gentlemen," said DUFF, in his most matter-of-fact style, "it is not usual to say much on these occasions. I can only remind you of the value of a little new blood from time to time in our councils. When I have said that Mr. SCIPIO P. GOLIBOISE is a member of one of our most ancient Inns of Court, the Under Temple, and is fitting himself to take an active part in the profession of the Law, I think you will see that he has-ah-fair qualifications for election as a Gargoyle." Then GEYSER primed by BOSHER, rose with his usual impetuosity. "I must say, Gentlemen," he began, "with all deference to our friend, Mr. DUFF, I don't think he has laid Mr. (eh? yes, thank you, BOSHER!) GOLIBOISE's claims to our votes before us with all the earnestness and thoroughness he usually devotes to whatever he takes in hand. He has suppressed-no doubt, inadvertently-a very important fact in connection with the Candidate which, in my humble opinion, will appeal strongly to your imaginations. Mr. GOLIBOISE is a representative of one of the most thriving of the dependencies of our great Empire. He comes to us, Gentlemen, from the Island of (which? ah, just so)-the fair and smiling island of Sangaree. I put it to you whether it is not our duty to lay aside all minor considerations, and, in this Jubilee time, give the world a striking instance of the brotherly feeling which unites the Mother Country to her Colonies! Let there be nothing of ungracious, of grudging, of perfunctory, in the response we make to his application for admission; a hand, Gentlemen, is stretched out to us from across the seas-let us not in the palm we hold forth in return, conceal the invidious form of one solitary black-ball!" (There was a murmur of admiration at this fine image.) "Let us for once be unanimous in throwing our portals wide open to receive the stranger who stands knocking at the door of the Gargoyle Club!" [Loud applause. There was no necessity for any further speech-making, but PERCY VERE would get up; he always will whenever he sees the slightest opportunity, for his great idea is that oratory comes with practice, and that it doesn't so much matter what you say, so long as you gain a little more confidence by saying it. So PERCY VERE began very fluently: "As to the remarks of the Honourable Member who has just sat down, I only wish to remark that the remarks he made were remarks- (Here he looked about him in a distressed manner) "remarks which were very ably-er, very ably remarked. I can't help rising to say that I have no-that VOL. XCV. "I am happy to tell you, Gentlemen," our President announced, after a scrutiny of the box, amidst much enthusiasm, that Mr. GOLIBOISE is elected without a single dissentient voice! And now let us proceed to the motion before the House, which is"One moment, Sir," said BOSHER. "I believe the new Gargoyle is below at this instant, waiting permission to take his seat amongst us. With your leave, I will now invite him to do so." But this quite innocent proposal brought up PORPENTINE: "I must really protest, Sir! It looks to me as if the Candidate, by coming here this evening, must have regarded his election as a foregone conclusion; as if I am about to conclude with a motion, Sir... I move- That, having regard to circumstances with which the Club was previously unacquainted, Mr. GOLIBOISE be now informed that his election is still under consideration.' 999 Geyser (rising excitedly). Really, Sir! really! Are we to punish Mr. GOLIBOISE for his very laudable impatience to join our society? Is his ignorance, pardonable in a stranger, of our customs to be thrown in his teeth like this? A thousand times no, Sir! I call upon Mr. PORPENTINE to withdraw his motion; otherwise, I, for one, will not continue a member of this Club a single day! No, Sir, not one hour-not one minute-not one instant-lowering his voice impressively)-not one week! (Cries of "Withdraw!" and some excitement.) Porpentine (rather sulkily). I beg to withdraw the motion. Pinceney. Then, if Mr. BOSHER will introduce the new Member as he proposes, I shall now call upon Mr. GEYSER to bring forward the subject for debate, which is in the following terms:-"That this House is of opinion that all Racial and other distinctions are invidious and reactionary, and should be abolished." BOSHER had already disappeared, and, as the President spoke, there were steps outside, and presently the door opened, and Mr. GOLIBOISE made his first entrance into the Gargoyle Club. He walked up to the vacant chair next to GEYSER'S, which BOSHER had vacated (by the way, he did not reappear that evening), and sat down grinning from ear to ear, evidently highly pleased with himself and us, after which he devoted himself to rolling his eyes, and sucking the top of his walking-stick. I trust that we did nothing unworthy of our character as Gargoyles and as gentlemen; but I am bound to confess that our new Member's appearance excited a certain sensation amongst us which could not be wholly disguised. B For Mr. GOLIBOISE happened to be a remarkably fine. specimen of the pure African type. It made no difference, of course, but we should like to have been a little better prepared. THE CONQUEROR JOCK; OR, THE WHIP-HAND. (Some way after "The Conqueror Worm.") "Time was when wners of horses were the masters of the trainers and the jockeys; now it too often happens that the trainers are the masters of the owners, and the jockeys masters of both."-SIR CHARLES RUSSELL. At bidding of misshapen things, That motley drama-oh, be sure With its Phantom chased for evermore Through a circle that ever returneth in And much of madness, and more of sin, But see amid the mimic rout A wizen thing intrude! A shrivelled shape that rides about It spurs !-it whips!-the Swells, the Snobs, And the nobles that it rides-and robs- Down-down on all fours are they all, "Mr. WYKE BAYLISS, when a student at the British Museum, did not limit his attention to the Elgin Marbles," but on the other hand, as a Chess-player, he held, last year, the cup for the county of Surrey." 66 He is, moreover, "Chairman of the Board School in his District," "Member of the Diocesan Council of Rochester," and besides being "Public Orator of Noviomagus" (what on earth is this ?), he is "Honorary Fellow of the Society of Cyclists." It is quite clear from all this that Mr. W. B. was born for Suffolk Street, and WHISTLER, the Painter, was there decidedly out of place. And now having discovered WYKE BAYLISS, Pres. Elec., we have four questions to put to anybody who can answer them; i. e., "Who, What, or Where is Noviomagus'?" And "Why has he a Public Orator all to himself?" THE WANDERING VETERAN. (A Legend of Wimbledon.) But THE Old Man sighed as he walked into Richmond. The children laughed at him, and their elders tossed their heads in scorn. he did not mind. He leant on his weapon, which served him as a staff, and strode sturdily onwards. Soon he was in the Park. He sank on one knee. In a moment he was accosted by an official. "Move on!" said the official. The Old Man wiped away a tear, and obeyed the order. He passed through fields and gardens, and now he was at Epsom. Once more he had prepared to make a stay. "Move on!" again shouted an official, and the Veteran was forced to submit. And so he wandered from place to place-everywhere unwelcome, everywhere abused. At last he lay down on the ground, and could go no further. In spite of the rough requests of the officials "to get up and be off," he stayed where he was. Indeed, he could go no further. "Where have you been?" they asked him. "All over the country," he replied, in a faint voice; and then he told them how he had journeyed from place to place, and never was allowed to settle. "And who are you?" "The surviving Member of the National Rifle Association; " and, with a faint smile upon his thin lips, and forgiveness in his heart of hearts, for H.R.H. the Duke of CAMBRIDGE, the last of the Volun SHADY PLACES FOR HOT WEATHER.-During the past week, Lord DUNRAVEN, as Chairman of the Sweating Commission, Lord HERSCHELL with the Board of Works Inquiry before him, and the Lord Chief Justice with the Great Turf Libel case, might have been represented at Madame TUSSAUD's as acus, Minos, and Khadaman-teers calmly died. thus, in a Modern "Chamber of Horrors." Their effigies might have melted, but their Lordships themselves are made of sterner stuff. THE CONSERVATIVE TENT JUST NOW.-Discon-tent. WHAT OUR POET HAS TO PUT UP WITH. butcher's calling, and dons his blouse and shoulders his tray with the best of them. Still, the outlook is not cheering, and if PLANTAGENET backs out of the Fried Fish, all I can say is," Heaven help him!" Sometimes I think if we could give a drawing-room entertainment, and appear at a Music-Hall as the Duke of DownSHIRE's talented troupe," we might perhaps make ends meet. I should still look respectable in spangled tights; but with Beaumanoir and the Dashworth estates both mortgaged over the hilt, it's clear that something must be done, and that quickly. Ha! here is the Duchess! She looks well in what, trying to raise a miserable laugh among ourselves, we call, in wretched satire, the "family paste. No matter. I will talk the subject over with her. But the slavey has announced that the fourwheeler is at the door. Very well, Duchess. Lead on, I follow! And after daylight, when dark follows, And help is far, and vain all holloas, Hark, where the ominous knock at supper-time Preludes a talk, a hasty shot, a groaning The goodman's end! And she, who saw the crime, That's the wise wife!-she's dumb, but for low moaning, Lest she too know what mean the unwritten orders Of these same gay marauders! And though some sham regret may be expressed, THE TRUTH ABOUT MR. BALFOUR'S HAT. "PARBLEU, MON AMI! YOU KNOW ZE FRENCH PROVERB-'QUI DORT, DINE'!" account by an eye-wit JOTTINGS FOR THE TIMES. (From the Duke of Downshire's Journal.) A VERY weary day. Don't think I can stand this Omnibus driving business much longer. Having to go to the BLUEMANTLES' crush as soon as I get home to-night, dressed before I took the reins in the morning, and have been got up in full fig, ribbon of the Garter and all, under my overcoat on the box all day, so as not to keep the Duchess waiting. She says I look "crumpled." Don't wonder at it. Six times from Hammersmith to Whitechapel and back is enough to take the starch out of anybody. Think, however, the Duchess has been put out, finding the new Dressmaking business she set up in Bond Street not half so satisfactory as she thought it would be. She has tried to tone down the 'shoppy" side of it by offering her customers five o'clock tea, and by endeavouring to invest the whole business with a little social glamour, but she says that our pork-butcher's wife, whom she supplied only last week with ruby velvet, came and complained quite nastily that the dress did not fit her properly in the back, and on the Duchess smiling amiably and saying she saw nothing amiss, retorted that "Business was business, Duchess or no Duchess," and that when she "paid good hard money for what she ordered, she expected good honest work in return." 66 a ness, of Mr. BALFOUR had "lost his head." I emphatically con- BALFOUR has not shoulders and his head in his you may NOTE ON SOME RECENT EVIDENCE.-" VAN DAMM" is an appropriate name for a witness before the Sweating Commission who attacks "MAPLE & Co.," the firm always associated with furniture vans. This sort of thing is, I am bound to say, only what I expected. I was not, therefore, surprised to hear that my two dear daughters, the Lady CONSTANTIA, and the Lady FEODORA, had had some disagreeables with the Principal of the Regent's Street Bonnet Establishment, in which I had just succeeded in placing them with so much difficulty, and had determined to throw the whole thing up. Then, again, the Fried Fish and Whelk business in Marylebone, which I had made such sacrifices to secure for PLANTAGENET, appears likely to turn out a disappointing investment. He says that, after his life in the Guards, he cannot somehow take kindly to the calling. Well, poor boy, he may be assured that it is not one that I, his father, would have selected for him, as the heir upon whose brows my Ducal Coronet must eventually descend-still, what was I me re-verse." to do? The only other thing in the market was a "Sausage" concern. My second boy, BERTRAM, seems, I am glad to note, fairly satisfied with his SONG FOR LORD TENNYSON AND OTHER POETS.-"See NEW NAME FOR THANET.-The Lowther Arcadia. |