A RESULT OF BEING HOSPITABLE.
SCENE—Small, but Fashionable Club in West-End.
Algy. Waiter! bring me a brandy-and-soda. Don't feel up to the average to-day.
Hughie. Late last night?
Algy. Yes. Went to Mrs. CRAMMERLY's Dance, Prince's Gate. Goodness knows why I went! I don't think they'll get me there again in a hurry.
Charlie (waking up from arm-chair). Were you a victim too? I didn't see you there!
Algy. No. Because I probably left before you arrived. I had had enough of it in an hour, and came on here to supper; not before I had nearly poisoned myself with a concoction that old CRAMMERLY was asserting loudly, was an "'80 wine."
Charlie (laughing). Ah! my dear friend, I had been there before, and knew the ropes. Took pretty good care to steer clear of the wine, and got a chap to give me a whiskey-and-soda.
Uninvited Member. May I ask where was this charming Party?
Algy. At the CRAMMERLY's, Prince's Gate. Colonel CRAMMERLY.
Uninvited M. Colonel CRAMMERLY! Let's see, was he an old Crimea man?
Algy. No!—He was Colonel in the Bounders Green Volunteers. (Roars of laughter.) You know "CRAMMERLY's Starch"—made a fortune out of it.
Charlie. He must have spent a bit of it last night. They say the flowers alone cost over a thousand pounds.
Enter Captain O.
Captain O. Talking about the Colonel CRAMMERLY Party, eh? (To Uninvited M.) Were you there?
Uninvited M. (very satirically). Oh, dear no! I fear I'm not smart enough to warrant my admittance into that charmed and select circle. [Roars of laughter.
Capt. O. By Jove, you were well out of it. (Addressing the Club generally.) Did—you ever see such—eh?
Charlie. I want to know where the deuce they get their men from.
Algy. I fancy they discover them in the City.
Jack. I never met—such shocking people before.
Capt. O. Too dreadful for words. I could only conclude they must have been relations. [Roars of laughter.
Jack. By the way, did you notice that there was a "bounder" who was reversing?
Uninvited M. (with great indignation). No!!!
Jack. I tell you it's a positive fact—I know it to my cost; for I was dancing with that youngest daughter, you know—the one who has the fluffy fringe over her forehead—and the brute bounced against us, and sent us flying. Never even apologised. If I could have got him outside, I declare I would have given him a deuced good hiding. A man like that ought to be kicked.
Uninvited M. Were the women any better?
Algy. Well, if you call Mrs. DASH any better!
Uninvited M. (with tragic intensity). You don't mean to say she was there!
Algy. I do.
Uninvited M. But do you mean to say that Mrs. CRAMMERLY has heard—
Jack. No. She's deaf. [Laughter.
Uninvited M. Well, you do surprise me! (After a long pause.) Any other shining lights of London Society?
Jack. No—except that fearful Mrs. JUSSOPH and her daughters, who honoured me with an invitation to their afternoon party at their suburban residence at West Kensington. I don't know whether you regard them as an illumination. [Roars of laughter.
Uninvited M. (triumphantly.) Good gracious! Then there was positively no one there that one knows.
Algy (thinking he has said something original). No one, that one wants to know.
Uninvited M. I suppose the whole thing was done for an advertisement—?
Algy. Possibly. Anyhow, once bitten, twice shy. They won't get me inside their stuccoed palace again.
Chorus of Those who were at the Party. Same here! [Pause.
Capt. O. (lighting cigar by candle). By the way, JACK, did old CRAM. ask you to Scotland for the 12th?
Jack. Yes.
Capt. O. So he did me. Shall you go?
Jack. It depends—I think so—if I don't get anything better. I'm told it's a wonderful shoot. They pulled down over a thousand birds the first day, last year.
Capt. O. Does old CRAMMERLY shoot?
Jack. Oh dear no! He's as blind as a bat. He only rents it for his friends.
Capt. O. (greatly relieved). That's good news, for he's a terrible bore. He'd be a shocking nuisance on the Moors. I must say, I can't stand him at any price.
Jack. No, nor any of the family, for the matter of that. Well, ta, ta! Perhaps we shall meet there. I'm off to the Empire, to join some friends who've got a box.
[Exit to enjoy further hospitality.
"PERFIDIOUS ALBION" AGAIN.—Lieutenant MIZON, with his grievances against the British Niger Company, was fêted last week in Paris. To inform Frenchmen that the British Company in question is not so niger as it has been painted would be useless at the present moment, when Frenchmen are still loud in their applause of the speech made by the Prefect of the Seine in such a Mizon-scène. [N.B.—Jeu de mot forwarded by our own "Prefect of the In-Seine.">[
FROM NEWCASTLE.—Mr. HAMOND, M.P. for Newcastle, charged Mr. JOHN MORLEY with having made a certain statement. Mr. MORLEY denied it, and asked Mr. HAMOND to substantiate the charge. Mr. HAMOND could not do this, nor did he apologise. Is this the "'Amond honorable"?
SIR CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ; OR, THE INSULTING SULTAN AND THE HIGH-TONED CHRISTIAN KNIGHT.
A Modern Moorish Ballad, after the fashion of Bon Gaultier.
Brave Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ! basely have they borne thee down;
Thousands, thirty, would they tip thee as a churl they'd tip a crown?
Thou at home hadst shown that Sultan with emphatic toe the door;
In Morocco thou didst coolly turn thy back upon the Moor.
Long in fiery Fez he lingered, subtle SMITHEZ, being bound
To contract Commercial Treaty with the minions of MAHOUND.
Full eight weeks' negociations smoothed that Treaty's parlous way;
On the fifth July the Sultan swore it should be signed next day.
But the false Frank's furtive whisper at the Sultan's ear was heard.
(When the Frank may foil the Saxon won't he do so? Like a bird!)
And the treacherous Moorish Monarch, to his people's interest blind,
Sold the sham he dubbed his honour, changed the thing he deemed his mind.
"Christian Knight," began the Monarch ("knight" was diplomat for "dog"),
"There is something in your Treaty, that I relish—like roast hog.
Know Morocco is no home for Factories and Colossal Stores;
And the omnipresent Bagman is a bugbear to my Moors!
"All my Cadis, all my ladies, wish at—Hades Western Trade.
You must make large alterations in the Treaty we've half made;
Shape it not in Christian interests, Christian Knight, but in MAHOUND's,
And—incline thine ear!—I'll give thee, Christian, Thirty Thousand Pounds!!!"
Enter black slave bearing Treasure! Rangèd bags of glittering gold!
Then upspake brave EUAN-SMITHEZ. "Hold, base Sultan; minion, hold!
Dost thou think to bribe and buy a Christian Knight? A Paynim plan!
If I take it, thou mayst sell me to a Moorish dog's-meat man!"
Then his steed obeyed his master, and he whinnied loud and free,
Turned his back upon the tempter, caracoled with coltish glee;
Struck out with his heels behind him, smote that slave upon the nose,
Kicked the bags until the bullion in a Danaë shower arose.
Never DON FERNANDO's charger, Bavieca, gave such spring,
In the sawdust-sprinkled circus of AL-WIDDICOMB, the King!
Never did DON GOMERSALEZ fill the Moslem with more fear,
When he smote him o'er the mazzard with his streak-o'-lightning spear!
And the scattered gold flew widely, urged by that prodigious kick,
Smote the Frank behind the throne, although he dodged amazing quick;
Spattered that insulting Sultan, like a splash of London mud,
Blackening his dexter eye, and from his "boko" drawing blood.
Then Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ gave that Moorish Sultan beans,
Holding it foul scorn—as did the pluckiest of Christian Queens—
a Christian Knight should take an insult from a turban'd Moor,
Without landing him a hot 'un, without giving him what-for!
Speed thee, speed thee, noble charger! Speed thee faster than the wind!
Stout Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ leaves that Moorish Fez behind;
Shakes its sand from off his shoes, and, having wiped the Sultan's eye,
Turns his back, and takes his hook, without e'en wishing him "Good-bye!"
