"PRAVE 'ORTS."
"By the bye, dear Professor, which would you say—Abiogén-esis, or Abiogenēs-is?"
"Neither, my dear Madam, if I could possibly help it!"
An Important Summing-up. (By Our Own Special Reporter in the recent case of Somebody or Other v. Another Person of the name of Barley).—Mr. Justice Mathew regretted being compelled to decide against Barley on the question of "quantities." Of course, there had been an error on the part of the highly respectable Corporation of Ramsgate, which might be characterised as a "sin of commission," while the neglect of their clerk to enter their arrangement with Barley on the minutes was a "sin of omission." All the witnesses in this case must be believed, as they had, à propos of Barley, taken their oats—he should say their oaths. Perhaps when the present statute came to be revised, Mr. Barley might act for the town, for which it appears he had done good service, and Barley would not have to hide under a bushel. It was clear that this sort of Barley was worth more than the present price of 28s. a quarter. Counsel on both sides had made an eloquent display of wheat—he begged pardon, he meant "wit"—and if in this judgment he had to tread on anyone's corn, he assured them that to do so went against the grain. As an official, Barley would have the sack, but sack and all could be taken up to another Court, and there, as a German speaking French would say, On beut Barley, about it still further. (The Jury thanked his Lordship, and all the parties left the Court much pleased, humming All about the Barley.
"They acted a Greek Play at Cambridge, my dear," said Mrs. Ram to a friend, "and fancy, it was written, as I am informed, by a young lady, Miss Sophie Klees. I suppose she is a student of Girton. How clever! I couldn't write it, I'm sure."
The "Quart d'heure de Rabelais," if translated into Anglo-French, may be taken to express a bad time of it with the roughs in Trafalgar Square, i.e., a mauvais quart d'heure de Rabble—eh?
The Works of Charles Dickens must have achieved great popularity in South Eastern Europe, where there is an entire country called Boz-nia.
THE NEW SCHOOL.
Schoolboy (aged 16). "Good-bye, old Chappies! Can't waste any more time with you. 'Good business'!"
TOM BROWN & CO.'S SCHOOL DAYS.
A Glimpse at the Commercial Education of the Future.
Twelve o'Clock struck, and the Fourth Form at St. Dunstan's left its class-room with a rush. The old hour of leaving off the morning's studies was still preserved. Yet, in conformity with the spirit of the times, the venerable foundation of St. Dunstan's had recently witnessed great changes. The Governing Body had taken the matter in hand, and had gone to work with a will. The teaching of Greek and Latin had been entirely suppressed, polite literature eliminated, and the whole curriculum of the school arranged solely to the provision of that glaring want of the times, a sound commercial education. To effect this, some radical changes had been necessary. The Rev. Jabez Plumkin, D.D., Oxford Prizeman, through whose unwearied exertions, for the past five-and-twenty years, St. Dunstan's had been gradually acquiring an increasing fame in the Class-lists of both Universities, had been forcibly ejected from the Head-Mastership, and his place filled by a leading member of a well-known firm of advertising stock-jobbers, and the Assistant-Masters had all been selected on similar lines.
"Company-floating," was taught by a late Promoter, who had had much experience in the creation of many bubble concerns, and "Rigging the Market" was entrusted to a Professor who was known, in his capacity as Accountant to a wholesale City Cheese Warehouse, to have contracted a thorough familiarity with this important subject of the new commercial education. Everything was done to foster a spirit of keen speculative enterprise in the boys. The whole traditions of the school were changed. The old idea of honour had died out. How to over-reach each other by sharp practice was the one idea that animated every youthful breast from the senior in the Sixth to the junior in the Under Third. The tape was always working at the Principal's desk. The study-tables were covered with Stock and Mining Journals. Even the playground was turned into a Money Market. Cricket had been banished to make way for the more exciting game of "Bulls and Bears," and the Principal passing through occasionally, would sometimes stop and say, "That's right, my boys, learn to do each other, and remember the motto of your School, 'Monies maketh man.'" Posted up upon the gates, communicated by telegraph hourly from the City, were every day to be found the latest prices. And it was to get a first look at this that the Fourth Form had just left its class-room with a rush.
A crowd of eager faces were anxiously scanning the latest quotations, and notes were being taken in a score of pocket-books, whipped out for the purpose. Tom Brown & Co.—he had earned this sobriquet from his companions for his shrewd business capacity—did not, however, join the throng, but stood a little way off, looking on, and waiting for the excitement to abate. Gradually it calmed down, and the boys broke up into little knots and groups, discussing the state of the market. Then he spoke:—
"Look here, you fellows," he said, "I've got a good thing on here, that, I fancy, will be more worth your attention than even the latest prices." He pulled a prospectus from his pocket. An interested crowd closed round him at once. "It's 'Old Mother Noggins, Limited,'" he went on, reading from the paper before him, "This Company has been started for the purpose of acquiring at wholesale prices all the tarts, bull's-eyes, apples, toffy, and ginger-beer, forming the present stock-in-trade of Old Mother Noggins's store, and for retailing the same at a figure, that will, after paying the guaranteed interest on the fourpenny debenture shares, admit of the declaration of a dividend of 14 per cent. on the ordinary paid-up share capital of the Company.
A buzz of excited admiration went up from the throng. The Fourth Form at St. Dunstan's had not for a long time had such a good thing put before it.
"I know," continued Tom, producing a bundle of forms of application from his pocket, "that you fellows, would like to hear of it. Who'll go for it?"
There was a loud responsive shout of "I!" and a dozen hands were at once stretched towards the speaker. Business commenced, and sixpences, shillings, and half-crowns were pouring into Tom's pockets faster than he could cram them there. He was making a very good morning's work of it. Presently, a dull, heavy-looking boy joined the group.
"Hullo, Flopper!" cried Tom, addressing this last arrival, "why don't you put that ten bob your Uncle sent you into this thing? I'll be bound he told you to turn it over. You won't get such a chance every day."
"What is it?" asked Flopper.
A chorus of voices instantly joined in a brief explanation of the advantages of investing in "Old Mother Noggins' Limited."
"By Jove!" said Flopper, "I don't know that I won't."
"Not if I know it," cried an authoritative voice, breaking in upon the scene. It was Snagsby, the "Sharper" who spoke. There was a general look in his direction, and a disposition to make way for him as he approached. He had been mixed up disadvantageously in a recent "corner" in marbles, and had from time to time floated several concerns that had never paid any dividends, and was generally regarded as a "queer" customer in consequence. It was for this reason that he had been nicknamed the "Sharper."
"And what do you want him to do with his money?" asked Tom, stepping forward in a defiant attitude.
"He'll put every blessed halfpenny of it into my 'General Pen-knife Supply,'" was the laconic reply. "He signed for the allotment last night."
"But I've changed my mind," pleaded Flopper, helplessly, and he handed the half-sovereign to Tom.
"You give that up!" cried the Sharper, menacingly.
"You try to take it!" replied Tom, grimly.
In another instant the Sharper had flown at Tom. There was a brief struggle. Tom hit out at him, and caught him in the face.
"Oh, that's your game, is it!" shouted the Sharper. "You'll fight me for that."
"Fight you? When and where you like," replied Tom.
There was a general cheering and throwing up of hats.
"Hooray! There's going to be a fight between the Sharper and Tom Brown & Co.," shouted the Fourth Form. They hadn't had such good news for a long time.
The whole School was there, and the third round had been fought. Betting had been fast and furious, and there had been several attempts made by the supporters of both champions to break the ring and put an end to the contest when the fortunes of the day seemed to be going against their own special favourite. But now a curious thing happened. After a little preliminary sparring in the fourth round, Tom Brown & Co., suddenly dropping on one knee, went to the ground.
In a few seconds the surprising news was known that he had given in. The sponge was thrown up, and the Sharper declared the victor. Tom was quickly surrounded by his friends, and led off the field. Flopper ran up to him. "I'm so sorry, Tom," he said, "that you should have fought in my quarrel, and have got licked."
There was a twinkle in Tom's eye. "My dear fellow," he replied. "Don't imagine I wouldn't have thrashed him; but business is business, and I got a good price for not doing so. Didn't you twig that I sold the fight?"
That night Tom Brown & Co. wrote home an enthusiastic account of his day's doings to his parents. The next morning, Tom Brown, Senior, referring to the letter with a glow of pride on his commercial face, remarked to his better-half that the boy's training seemed perfect, and that he was destined to turn out remarkably well. "I can't tell you," he added, "how I long to see that boy loose upon the Stock Exchange. He will be a credit to the family."
A book has been recently published entitled The Amateur's Guide to Architecture, by Sophie Beale. Sophie shows us how a house should be Beale't. But just imagine an Amateur Architect!!
The complaint of the Charity Organisation Society, slightly varied from Shakspeare, is that "The quality of Mercy is not trained."