APRIL 26, 1905.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. COMPLIMENTS ONE MIGHT IMPROVE ON. TELL ME, WHO IS YOUR [Mrs. Mudge rises in Mrs. Penink's opinion. THEY'RE SO BEAUTIFUL AND SO REFINED! Mrs. Mudge. "I DO ADMIRE THE WOMEN YOU DRAW, MR. PENINK. MODEL?" Penink. "OH, MY WIFE ALWAYS SITS FOR ME." Then, the reason was clear. The ticket on her she was a prize winner he wrote the I stood before with one hang-dog look at DORA, he cage said "Commended," the ticket on cheque without another word. ours said "1st Prize." it, trying to believe my eyes, when a made himself scarce, and I had only deep voice sounded at my shoulder. 66 through my brain like a rocket. With a "Perhaps you prefer the magistrate's," just time to snatch the muff out of the cage when GLADYS came hurrying up. She gave a little broken cry when she saw the "1st Prize." "Oh, HARRY!" she said, and I saw she wanted to kiss something, possibly "Where is the darling?" she me. exclaimed. "Impossible," I said. "The gentleman took her away with his other dog. That's what I got for her," and I put the cheque in her hand. 66 Oh, how darling of you!" she cooed. "What shall I buy with it?" "Your trousseau, of course," I replied. LRAVE HIL A THING OF BEAUTY. fashioned carte. Every well-appointed Mr. SARGENT is now painting Society Quite a panic is reigning among eligible partis, who have been noticed lately to fly up side-streets and into public-houses or any haven of refuge, rather than face the glorified spinster approaching in her new environment. The members of the Lyceum and other ladies' clubs have lately petitioned their landlords to alter the shape of the windows looking out on the street to a more desirable and fashionable pattern. Meanwhile mere men, unable to get a hansom for love or money, will soon be clamouring for the blood of the County Gentleman. THE DECADENCE OF THE HOME. Park. MET such a dear child in the So delighted with her that I could not keep myself from rushing up and kissing her. . . . On asking nurse who child was, found-most curious thing-it was my own. Asked the woman if I had any more like it, and was informed there were two others equally charming. Really delightful to think one has such nice children. Shall certainly call in at the nursery-I suppose we have a nursery- and see the others. I might take them some toys-I believe children like toys--only I don't know what these particular ones have already. Perhaps it would be safer to take chocolates. By the way, the disagreeable person I met in the hall a few mornings ago turns out to be my husband. I had quite forgotten about him. He was pointed out to me at the play last night. Visited children this afternoon. Quite an adventure. Wandered about a lot at first. No idea had such a big THE HANSOM BELLE. To begin with, it means a new lease house, and at last found myself in of life for the oft-threatened and much kitchen. Discovered most obliging perA GREAT discovery has been made criticised two-wheeler. In view of the son, who offered to show me where by the County Gentleman. It is that new and popular beauty-cure, West-End nursery was situated. Children rather no woman ever looks ugly or even plain Jehus are unanimously setting up as shy at first, but soon came up to me to in a hansom. "She sits," says our specialists in the business of creating make friends. Wanted to know where contemporary, "framed by the cab, female loveliness. There is already a I lived and what was my name. One looking out of an open window, and slump in nose-machines, anti-frown of them seemed to remember meeting while she can see most comfortably and straps and double-chin reducers. Five me in the house a long time ago-must completely from her seat can be seen thousand or more perambulating beauty- have been when children were the smart by those she passes most charmingly doctors are speedily driving the Bond thing. Couldn't stay long, as they don't enshrined." When once this striking Street Venus-factories to shut up shop. seem used to cigarettes in the nursery, fact is generally made known, we expect The leading photographers are now and I was due at the Club for Bridge. the same to lead to important social and taking the Fair à la cab-window, which Shall certainly call again when I am less economic results. is an obvious development of the old-busy. Quite decent children. 4 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.-APRIL 26, 1905. WEARY WORK. DISAPPOINTED TORTOISE. "OH LOR! HE'S OFF AGAIN! THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO ROMP IN. BUT I SHALL CATCH HIM NAPPING LATER." AN AERATED IDYLL. I WISHED the thing had happened at the Carlton. I wished that I had been supping there after the play, and that she had floated in-a shimmer of silk and lace and diamonds and anything else that had a call to shimmer. I wished it had been so, for one can hardly do justice to a town romance unless one is in evening dress. I do not need to point out that one does not wear evening dress in the King's Road A. B. C. Besides, it was in the afternoon. I ate my scone and read the Evening News. I was so absorbed that I did not notice Her until the waitress banged down a cup of coffee and splashed my scone. Then I looked up angrily and swallowed what I was about to say. She was opposite. It is useless to describe her, for I could not do justice to her sweet face, her graceful figure, her wistful smile. She was dressed, I noticed, in black; poorly yet neatly. From her pocket she took the Evening News-ah! that bond of sympathy between us! My brain whirled. It was her dear coffee that lay on my scone. With difficulty I resumed my meal. The waitress stopped again at our table, wrote out our bills and hurried on. Involuntarily I glanced at hers. It was fivepence; mine was sixpence. I had the tact to turn away lest this difference in our social positions should embarrass her. But almost immediately I heard a gasp, an exclamation! I looked up. The girl had dropped her Evening News, and was looking in front of her with an expression of horror upon her face. She went red, and then white, and then red again. Evidently something in the paper had caused her this shock. A WARM WELCOME. Distracted Hostess (to Uncle George, who has arrived unexpectedly). "OH, I'M SO GLAD YOU HAVE COME! THE CONJUROR I HAD ENGAGED HASN'T TURNED UP. SO YOU'LL DO SOME TRICKS TO AMUSE THE CHILDREN, WON'T YOU?" In moments of emergency I am at my best. I took up my paper, and as I did so I felt certain that in the "Stop Press News" I should find the cause of her trouble. Some important and rate. To persuade her that the thing terrible piece of news it would be, that could not go on for ever, that they would had arrived too late for insertion in any other part of the paper. Yes, here it was. "Bank Rate Un- over me. changed." Poor girl! A banker's daughter, no doubt; she had come into this place five minutes ago, happy and free from care. She had ordered her meal, and had sat there with her paper, quite innocent and unsuspecting. Then suddenly her young dreams are ruthlessly disturbed; she realises to her horror that the Bank rate is unchanged! I longed to take her by the hand and comfort her, to tell her that I would protect her from the wickedness of a world that wouldn't change its Bank be sure to make some alteration in it "After all," I argued to myself, "you "There you are! A penny more, and your father isn't a banker." "Well, supposing her father isn't, her lover might be.' "All right then. Go and take her hand and see what happens." I leant forward to do so, and then I noticed that she had picked up her paper again, and was studying it carefully. Now I think I have shown already what an able student of Sherlock Holmes's methods I am. Here was a fresh deduction to be made. I drew back and considered. A Bank rate is changed or unchanged. One looks at the paper and makes the discovery in an instant. After that the business is at an end. It may be a matter for remorse or grief; but a further glance at the papers gives no fresh news. Now in the case of a tragedy (murder or "I don't believe you know what a what not) one naturally searches the Bank rate is," I said with a sneer. pages for all particulars, in the hope "Oh, if she's got a lover," I said dis- |