Mem. by a Midlander.

VICTORIA, in the mighty Midland town, Found nought the tide of loyalty to stem. One of the brightest gems in England's Crown, She, after all, may find a Brummagem.

THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY RETURNING.There's to be a Jubilee Tournament at Olympia. Already the Men in Armour who figure so bravely on Lord Mayor's Day have sent in their gauntlets as a token of their willingness to do combat for the Queen of Beauty. Who is to be the Queen of Beauty? How

will this be decided? By Ballot? Rowena is already considering her costume, and Isaac of York, now residing within call of the principal London Theatres, is furbishing up his best second-hand King JOHNS and 'ENRIES.

A Flat Contradiction. (AIR-"Merrily Danced.") LORD ALCESTER steps Up to M. LESSEPS, "Don't mention this £. s. d. more. Retract what you've said. That cheque wasn't paid, By Beach-em-and-don't-go-to-Sea-more."

Knighthood at Birmingham. (AIR-"All my eye and Betty Martin O!")

We thought perhaps he might

Be made a Barrownight,

But this we couldn't calculate for sartin O! And now a Knight he be;

So here's, with three times three, For our gallant Mayor Sir Alderman T. MARTINEAU!

A CONSERVATIVE OPINION.-"The Round Table Conference" is an illustration of arguing in a circle. No end to it.

STUDIES FROM MR. PUNCH'S STUDIO.

No. XXIII.-"SNAPPY SOMERS."

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He was called SNAPPY for two reasons, firstly because, whether in the hunting-field or on the sweet shady side of Pall Mall," he was always so faultlessly neat in MELA his "get up;" and secondly, because his temper was so perfectly imperturbable. Men often acquire these nicknames in sheer irony, and one of the most irascible gentlemen in the West of Ireland, in the days when they "blazed," was well-known by the sobriquet of Milky Going. His most malignant enemy could not accuse SNAPPY of being snappish in disposition, indeed it was recorded of him, that upon one occasion at a cricket-match, he chanced to tread upon a dog, and instead of the usual formula of "Get out, you brute!" which is wont to escape our lips at such mischance, SNAPPY simply exclaimed, "I beg your pardon." But for all his quiet manner Mr. SOMERS was pretty good all round. He did in his own vernacular most things a little, but then his little happened to be

better than most men's a good deal. Mr. SOMERS, for instance, rarely said much about his exploits with the trigger; but if you happened to meet him at a country house cover-shooting, you would find that the head-keeper placed him where "the rocketers" came highest and fastest, and, if you had leisure to observe his performance, would notice that there were few birds sailed over his head that were not satisfactorily accounted for.

About his hunting achievements he was similarly reticent. Some one of his friends when a frost stopped the fun and sent hunting-men up to town. would exclaim :

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"I say, SNAPPY, you'd a real good thing with the Quorn, the other day, hadn't you? Were you out?"

Yes, nice gallop;" but he would not mention that he had "set the field," and had the hounds to himself for about a quarter of an hour.

A neat, slight, fair-haired little man, with quiet manner and lowtoned voice, one would hardly suspect him of being one of the boldest riders that ever crossed a country, and most assuredly you were not likely to gather it from his own lips, and yet he was a steeple-chase jockey of some celebrity. SNAPPY SOMERS perhaps rode more queertempered horses in the course of the year than any gentleman rider in the country. His patience and determination were invaluable on animals of this description.

"Glad you won your money," was his reply to an enthusiastic follower, who had supported him successfully at Sandown. "You're rather lucky, for I nearly made a mess of it. I should never have let GEORGE MORRIS get so near me at the finish, if I had known it." "Pooh! what did that matter?" rejoined the other.

66 Matter!" replied SOMERS. "He can ride my head off!" He is to be seen on every race-course in the racing season, but is more given to frequent the paddock than the lawn. He is never seen in the betting-ring, and is not given to air either his opinions or speculations on coming events, and yet he is a man who is constantly in possession of very accurate information. Ask him what is to win, say the Derby, and he will tell you that he is no good at conundrums, but if pressed by his intimates, will admit that he has heard Macaroon, it is thought by those connected with him, will run well, and further cross-examination by the privileged, may elicit the fact that he has thrown away a pony upon it himself. One of his chums is wont to say-"I'd rather follow one of SNAPPY's 'thrown away ponies' than another Johnnie's certainty."

He is usually up in town more or less all the season, though the exigences of racing call him away for a few days pretty frequently; is much given to attending the meets of the Four-in-hand and Coaching Clubs, where every one seems to know him, and he is very often to be seen on the top of one of the drags. His friends are wont to make much of him and he is a pretty constant diner-out, though a most abstemious one, but he eschews crushes and never sets foot in a ball-room. Next to being at the head of the first flight when hounds are flying, his chief delight is " screwing home an outsider" at Sandown or Kempton Park; still there is not a trace of horseyness

in his ordinary attire, and, judging by his usual conversation, he knows no more about turf matters than a Bishop. His racing get-up is the perfection of dandyism, indeed his friends go so far as to say that "SNAPPY don't care what sort of a brute he rides, but that he can't stand an ugly jacket." "Rather too pretty to be a workman," said the sporting fraternity, when he made his first appearance, "between the Flags; " but they speedily changed their opinion, and whatever Mr. SOMERS' mount may be, it is always regarded with a certain amount of respect.

Still, for all his imperturbable temper, SNAPPY SOMERS could administer a quiet rebuke to pushing people, when they at times took the liberty of asking him whether he "fancied his chance" without any acquaintance to warrant the question.

The state of the betting," he replied, on one of these occasions, 'would best indicate my prospects; as for myself, I have not as yet set up as a prophet.'

SOMERS, perhaps, gets as much fun out of life as most men. He is not rich, and he has doubtless one or two extravagant tastes. Neither hunting nor racing are the amusements of a poor man; but, a light weight and a fine horseman, he gets the riding of a good many other men's horses, which helps out his own rather limited stud, and gives him the command of quite double the hunters he actually owns.

Racing the same; by dint of a shrewd head and the assistance of some valuable hints from his numerous turf friends, owners, trainers, &c., he manages to about pay his expenses every year, and so have his fun for nothing, while he always vows that though he does not so much as own a flower-pot, thanks to his friends, he enjoys as good shooting as any man in England. This, though, is due in part to himself. He can shoot.

He is a quiet, somewhat taciturn man, and this may be one cause of his popularity. It is astonishing how appreciated a good listener is by those whose tongues are oiled. SNAPPY is not given to those histories which some men dedicate their declining years to retailing. He has only one story, which it seems incumbent on him to tell at stated intervals.

"Some fellows are always in rows," he will observe. "I can't conceive how they manage it. Never get into rows myself, never got into one but once, that though, was a scorcher. How was it? Well, it's a good many years ago now, 'twas down at Derby races, and after dinner I strolled into the suburbs with a pal, to smoke a cigar and get a little fresh air. Suddenly two or three fellows passed us, one of whom jostled against me, and knocked my hat off. In my politest way I requested him to pick it up, he replied by a loud guffaw, I rejoined that if he didn't pick it up, I'd make him. There was an immediate cry from his friends of A ring! a ring!' and my opponent, taking off his coat, said he'd like to see me do it."

"Well, I rather fancied myself with my hands at that time. I'd been taking lessons in town, and thought I should rather astonish the yokel. He was much about my own size, and we at once set to in the summer moonlight. I pretty soon discovered I'd caught a tartar, and though I certainly had pasted him a bit, I was getting most terribly knocked about myself. After four rounds I began to think of following out the advice contained in one of WHYTE MELVILLE's stories, and tell my backer to give my opponent's second a sovereign to take his principal away. All at once a gentleman came out of the crowd, and said, 'I beg your pardon, Sir, but your friend is not worth a cent as a second; if you'll let me act for you, you'll thrash that chap yet.'

"Well,' I replied, 'I'll go on, if you think so; but my impression is, I've had about enough.'

"Not a bit of it. He's nearer done than you are. Let me look after you, and you'll beat him yet.'

999

"And you licked him!" usually exclaims his auditor at this crisis. "Not exactly," will rejoin SNAPPY. "I was licked, but he gave in!" It turned out afterwards that he was a professional pugilist come down there to train.

FRESH LAID EGG-SAMPLES FROM THE CREMERIES.-What's an egg unless you can crack it, and get at its inside ? and how to crack it without a cracker? From the Regent Street Cremeries, Easter Eggs and Crackers are supplied together. Eggs and Toys too, "Cest à Toy," is the motto in fine old Anglo-Norman French; likewise scentbottles inside sent with the eggs. Great pleasure for children, profit of course for the Cremeries; but also this particular branch of industry affords occupation to many who, without it, would not be now able to look forward to a Happy Easter.

ha Stamned and Dirantad Pusalama au Mamam

MR. PUNCH'S MORAL FAIRY TALES.

VI.-PUSS IN BOOTS.

THERE was a Miller once who had three sons, and when he died, he left his Mill to the eldest, his Ass to the second, and his Cat to the third.

“

The owner of the Cat was in despair, "for, when I have sold his body to the pastry-cook, and made a cap of his skin, what," said he, I will be left of my patrimony; or rather, indeed, of my catrimony?" The Puss, who was just inside the cupboarddoor, said, "My good Master, do not afflict me by entertaining such pessimistic, I will not say, such pussymistic views. Pussilanimity never brought a man good fortune. Get me a pair of boots made, and you shall soon have excellent mews of me!"

The young man's first idea was to cut off the Cat's head, supposing that he was the Editor of a facetious periodical suffering under enchantment. But as the Cat assured him that this was not the case, he succeeded, not without difficulty, in procuring a pair of boots for the Cat, which Puss put on without the assistance of a friendly jack from the neighbouring

stream.

Equipped in his boots, the Cat entrapped several rabbits and hares, which he carried. with the compliments of his Master, the Marquis of CARABAS, to the King's Court. His Majesty, who had lately passed a Rabbits and Hares bill, had consequently suffered from the total extinction of ground game in his dominions. He therefore warmly welcomed Puss, and entreated to be introduced to the Marquis. The Cat promised that this should be done, and, without explaining what he called (we regret to say) his "purrpuss," he induced the Miller's son to bathe in a stream near the road where the King's carriage would pass. He next concealed his master's clothes, and when the carriage appeared with the King and Princess in it, screamed, "Help, my Lord is drowning!" The attendants rushing to the spot, met Puss, who assured them that, as the Marquis was swimming, his clothes had been stolen by robbers. The King's own portmanteau supplied a splendid suit of velvet, silk and lace, and the amazed young man found himself sitting beside the Princess.

As he was a great reader of good books, he at once understood the situation. The King, who was fond of horses, was driving himself, and the Miller's son had an opportunity of speaking to the beautiful but Socialistic Princess.

"Madam," said he, "let me crave your pardon for an unwitting offence. There is some extraordinary blunder. I am no Marquis." "I detest rank!" said the Princess.

"I am no man of property-"

"Property is robbery, philosophers say," observed the Princess, with her sweetest smile: ah! how I wish I could lead the people to recover their own."

"But I am the son of a Miller, Madam, a man cursed with a clever Cat, my only possession."

"A Miller! One of the People," said the Princess, her heart now completely enthralled, "oh, would that I were a Miller's daughter! It is the Miller's daughter Has grown so dear, so dear. That I've forgot the lady

Hight CLARA VERE DE VERE!"

sang the sweet Princess.

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This was what ladies call "giving" the Miller's son encouragement." Filled with alarm, he was on the point of leaping from the carriage, when he saw his Cat, flying along the road for dear life, with one boot off and one boot on, pursued by an Ogre.

To spring from the seat, to draw his rapier, to deceive the Ogre's parry in contrecarte with a doublez, dégagez, vite! and to riposte in seconde, was, to the Miller's active son, the work of a moment!

VOL. XCII.

It is rather original," said the Miller's son; "I have rarely met an Ogre with three heads."

"And I was avenging myself, and would have caught him, in spite of his boots

Here the Ogre expired, and the King, knighting the Miller's son on the spot, implored him at once to marry the Princess, with half the kingdom for her dower.

On condition that she might carry out a purely anarchical programme, the Princess bestowed her hand on the Miller's son, whose behaviour, you will have remarked, was very much more honourable than that of Miller's sons in general.

The Cat, descending from a tree in whose branches he had watched these proceedings, observed,

"Moral.-All's well that ends well."

ALL IN THE WRONG.

DEAR MR. PUNCH,

YOUR Correspondent, "AN INDIGNANT RATEPAYER," is certainly thankful for small mercies. He speaks with enthusiastic admiration of the discovery just made by the School Board, that the plan of education they have adopted for the last sixteen years is not only worthless but absolutely mischievous. It unfits both boys and girls for the serious business of life, by teaching the one to despise all manual labour, and the other all domestic service. At this most significant conclusion the School Board, without a dissentient voice, arrived on Saint Patrick's Day of the present year, and your Correspondent is jubilant over the result.

Is he, then, an enemy of the School Board? Far from it. He speaks of the Board throughout with unqualified admiration, and he assumes, notwithstanding his experience of the past, that, having confessed their error, they will forthwith proceed to amend their ways. His faith is wonderful; but what are we to say of his discretion?

I, too, Mr. Punch, am a ratepayer; I have seen my rates trebled since the creation of the School Board; and I am now told that I ought to thank my stars that, after sixteen years' work, they have at length displayed a glimmering of common sense. There seems to be something ominous in this term of sixteen years, for it appears that it is just for this period that we have been supplying the Army with bayonets that won't stab, and the Navy with cutlasses that won't cut. We are always calling ourselves, though nobody else does, a practical people. But what care we for the opinion of our neighbours, so long as we are happy in the calm contempla on of our superiority?

The unexpected always "happens," so said BEACONSFIELD, and it seems he was right, for who would have ever dreamed that the School Board would have ever made such a confession as they did on Saint Patrick's Day? But although they confessed much, they did not confess all. They said nothing of the numberless half-starved children whose health has been impaired or ruined by the tasks imposed upon them. Nothing of the hundreds of thousands spent in bullying and worrying their poor parents. Nothing of the money spent in endless litigation. On all such subjects the Board are discreetly silent. They draw attention only to the outcome of their labours, namely the boys and girls whose education has been completed-the survival of the fittest in short,-but who are fit for nothing.

"No handicraft work for the boys, no domestic service for the girls." The boys all want to be clerks; what the girls want to be we are not informed, but domestic service is not to be thought of, so the sooner my wife and daughters take to such work the better. And for this have I paid trebled rates. For this have we been passing Code after Code, and fixing Standard after Standard, to find at last that the whole work must be begun afresh. I too am indignant, as well as your Correspondent, not that the School-Board have been telling the truth, but that they have been so long in telling it. I protest against my money having been spent in injuring the health of half the poor children in London, and of injuring the morals of the other half. I remain, dear Mr. Punch,

ANOTHER INDIGNANT RATEPAYER.

MORE NEW-LAID EASTER EGGS.-This time SPARRA's eggs-no SPARAGNAPANE'S Eggs. Very pretty; but there's nothing in them, at least there wasn't when we saw them, as they 're intended to hold sweets, and they were empty. By the way, we saw them on the first of April, so perhaps, as our German friend observed, the "nozing dat vas inzide dose eggs vas dere fun, I mean dere leedle yoke."

AS IT OUGHT TO BE.

A British Court of Justice. First and Second Responsible Persons discovered in Prisoners' Dock. A Jury of their fellow-countrymen have just by their Foreman delivered a verdict of" Guilty against them, on a charge of having "betrayed a position of public trust, and thereby endangered the safety of the State." Judge (addressing Prisoners). And now it only remains to me to pass sentence upon you, and I must tell you that looking at the heinous nature of your crime, I shall deal as severely with you as the law gives me the power. You have been found guilty as the indictment charges you, with betrayal of a public trust, for, placed by your country in a position of grave responsibility, you have, reckless of all consequences, bartered away its interests and jeopardised its safety. For it is due to your culpable negligence, malversation, or worse, that 36,000 of its sons are at this moment armed with useless weapons, weapons that had they to be relied on suddenly in the outbreak of an unexpected war, would bend and break in the hands of those who trusted to them for the defence of their honour, their country and their lives. And were this by any misfortune to happen, the gallows would be too good a fate for you. As it is, your crime is sufficiently despicable and odious. And as a punishment to yourselves, and as a warning to others, who like you, filling responsible positions, unblushingly take the public money, while they grossly betray the public trust, I visit you with the full penalty the law permits me to inflict. You will be kept in penal servitude for fiveand-twenty years.

[The First and Second Responsible Persons, overwhelmed with their sentence, are removed fainting from the Court as the Curtain falls.

a

THE LAW OF THE LETTER. DEAR PUNCH,-Have you an enemy? I believe no; but if you had, the following idea would be invaluable to you, if (again) you wanted to hurt him very much. All you have to do is to think of a Charity, then add sixpence to it, and there you are, don't you know? Say you hate JONES, and you want (so to speak) to poison him, or, at any rate, to deprive him of all happiness and peace of mind. You have thought of your Charity, and you ask him for sixpence. JONES is always a little reticent about giving away money, but he thinks the Jubilee year excuses a multitude of extravagances, so he says you may have his sixpence, and imagines he has got rid of you. Not at all. You then tell JONES you want him to take up the alphabet, "to become an A in search of B's." His "B's" are to get four "C's," and each "C" is to have four "D's," and each "D" four "F's," and so on. The end of it is that the person who started the four "B's" "finds him responsible for several hundreds of pounds, divided amongst as many thousand subscribers. And yet it all begins with the apparently simple question, "Can you spare a sixpence ?" I would emphatically recommend the answer used by yourself. Sir, in giving advice to those about to marry-"Don't!"

But I am wandering from the point. The mere talk of joining an A B C Association has unnerved me. I must wait until I can recover. In the meanwhile believe me, Yours warningly, A MEMBER OF THE PUBLIC.

Notes and Gold.

WHERE is the music grander and sweeter Than GOUNOD's beautiful "Mors et Vita"? And here's a magnificent golden edition Giving it all, the whole "partition,"

Dedicated to LEO the Pope,

Who's able to play it by sight, let's hope,
Published by NOVELLO AND EWER.

We've not seen anything brighter or newer.
Awaiting your next, this book's twin brother,
We say,
"NOVELLO AND EWER-Another!"

THE OLDEST ALE.-A book has just been published entitled The Beer of the Bible. The only Biblical beer of here the two last syllables, "she" and "ba," seem to inwhich there occurs any direct mention is Beersheba; and dicate the service of "Bar-maids." For further information, and as to whether the reading should be "From Dan to Beersheba all is barrel," or not, we refer to the authorities of the Anglo-Jewish Exhibition at Albert Hall.

NEWS OF THE SLEEPING MAN.

He woke up only for a second. "What sent you to sleep at first ?" asked the Doctor. He struggled to reply. One eye opened. The doctor repeated the question. The sleeper's lips were seen to move with an effort. By closely imitating these movements as they seemed to form letters, the Doctor spelt out "r-u-d-d." Then came hesitation, and, after a pause, the lips worked again, and made g-o-r-e"-pause-"S-e-c-o-n-d""Act!" shouted the Doctor in the patient's ear. The sleeper opened one eye, directed a look full of intelligence at his medical friend, closed it, pressed his hand, and once more relapsed. In his pockets were found LEWIS CARROLL'S Game of Logic and The Hunting of the Snark. His awful state of somnolence is now entirely accounted for.

66

A Rap for the Ravens.

HERE comes HARRY QUILTER and preaches once more,
On that old old text, the Decline of the Drama.
This business, good Sirs, is becoming a bore,

More shapes it has taken than Vishnu or Brahma. The grumblers will have it that all things decline, Old England itself-unless Fair Trade reprieve itOur plays and our pictures, our women, our wine,And the public, that also declines-to believe it! ACCOMMODATION FOR THE UNSOCIABLE SOCIALISTS.-Out-of-door meetings, by all means! Let the Government encourage them in the best and purest air, at any convenient distance outside the four-mile radius. Why not Wormwood Scrubs? We passed it the other day, and the open space there, within a cheap ride by road or rail, is the very thing for the Hyndmanites and Burnsites. Then, what an Thought, which we recommend to the Authorities.