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was about the lovely close of a warm Summer day,” in fact it was on the night of the great Victorian Jubilee Day, June 21st, 1887.

"Night sank upon the dusky beach and on the purple sea,” and Mr. Punce, upon & chalky headland, overlooking the “silver streak,” gazed forth into the vast star-s pangled vault of heaven, musing of many things.

He, the swift, the ubiquitous, had been an observant witness of the impressive pageantry, the imposing popular outpouring of the day. And now, Toby at heel and torch in hand, he had climbed to set fire to the beacon whose “ red glare" was to blaze out over the wide Channel waters, and blazon forth to all the land England's joy and Mr. Punca's loyalty.

Flash! The ruddy flame leaped forth on to the night with the brightness of the levin, the impetuosity of a tiger's spring. A lurid cloud of smoke rolled upward and outward, slowly lifted and wafted by the soft salt sea-breeze of June.

The ringing rhymes of MACAULAY—that sound-hearted English writer whom prigs pooh-pooh, and Punch, like all sensible Britons, enjoys—ran in the head of the Sage. He thought of that other Summer night, three centuries since, when another Queen sat on the throne of the island realm, when—

“From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford Bay,

That time of slumber was as bright and busy as the day,” with preparations for welcoming the Armada.

Venit, vidit, fugit !" murmured Mr. Punch.
Dux fæmina facti," sibillated a responsive voice in his ear.

Who, what were thcse two shadowy shapes in doublet and ruffle? One frail, and, like the Sage himself, slightly hunched; the other brisk, alert, bronzed, bearded.

“Well capped, ROBERT CECIL!" said the Ever-Ready One, courteously bending to the illustrious Shades. you, stout Sir FRANCIS, give you good greeting on this night of nights, when 'tis no marvel two such patriot spirits should revisit thus the glimpses of the moon.

“What bodeth this?" queried DRAKE, pointing to the flaring beacon.
“Oh, this is no .ghastly war-flame,' but a jubilant Jubilee bonfire,” said Mr. Punch, with a smile.

“The better so, if what that ranting rantipole Lord RANDOLPH says is sooth," retorted the slighter Shade, with a touch of sardonic grimness. “Were I in the place of my living namesake, your present PREMIER, I'd take such order with the rebellious springald as

“ You did with Essex, eh ? ” interjected Punch. "Well, well, times have changed. We are more tolerant than of yore, and the Tower and the block are not now looked upon as the appropriate retort to indiscreet praters of Party rubbish or personal rhodomontade."

Then Sir Francis broke briskly in. “Supposing, good Sir, that some King of Spain's beard required summary singeing ; dost mean to say your singeing-irons are so ready, that your Singer-in-Chief could affyrd to finish his(game of bowls ere he took them in 'hand?"

“ Listen !" cried Mr. Punch.

“The best troops of the country were at this time absent in Flanders, and there was no standing army except the Queen's Guard and the garrisons kept in a few forts on the coast or on the Scottish border. The royal navy was extremely small; and the revennes of the Crown were totally inadequate to the effort of raising it to anything approaching a parity with the fleets of Spain. It was on the spontaneous efforts of individuals that the whole safety of the country at this momentous crisis was left dependent; if these failed, England was lost ;- but in such a cause, at such a juncture, they could not fail; and the first app al made by the Government to the patriotism of the people was answered with that spirit in which a nation is invincible.' So writes the historian concerning England on the eve of the advent of the Great Armada. Sir Francis, despite doubts, which I share with you, and notwithstanding maladministration, which, with all honest souls, I hate, I will back the

national invincibility, of which the historian speaks, against soi-disant Invincible Armadas, from whatever quarter. Depart. mental duffers—beshrew them !—can do much mischief, but there is one thing they cannot do."

“ What is that?" asked both the Shades, eagerly.

"Stop our supplies of Drakes and Cecils, of HOWARDS and RALEIGHS, of ELIZABETHS and—VICTORIAS," responded Mr. Punca. "And," pursued he, "if this were a war-beacon instead of a peace-bonfire, trust me that from Malvern's lonely height' in the Midlands, again would flare forth the ruddy sigoal of ready loyalty,

• Till Belvoir's lordly terraces the sign to Lincoln sent,
And Lincoln sped the message on o'er the wide vale of Trent;
Till Skiddaw saw the fire that burnt on Gaunt's embattled pile.

And the red glare on Skiddaw roused the burghers of Carlisle !'” “Marry! but this MACAULAY of yours hath the right British ring in him !” burst forth DRAKE, enthusiastically. “Natbless," said Cecil, more soberly, “let not the old lion of England be caught napping, Mr. Punch."

“Sirs," said the Sage, stirring up the bɔnfire till it blazed forth afresh in sky-reddening radiance, “Sirs, there is an inextinguishable beacon-lght, of another sort than this, ever before the eyes of that noble if somewhat somnolent animal, which will prevent a fortuitous forty winks ever lapsing into the lethal lethargy of a Rip Van Winkle's slumber."

"And that?" cried the Shades, simultaneously.

“ It is light and fire made portable as the staff-hidden spark of Prometheus," answered Mr. Punch. “Like unto a FAURE battery, it stores immense force in small compass, and for public convenience is replenishable half-yearly. It can be multiplied to any extent, and conveniently carried to any distance. You, if you wish, can take it with you to illuminate the Sbades, and warm your patriotic bosoms with knowledge and good hope."

What is it?" ejaculated Mr. Punca's ghostly Visitants.

“ Take it and try it, most noble Shades,” responded Punch, heartily. “By its light you shall see both the best and the worst of the grand old land you greatly loved, and as greatly served. You shall see how, despite the feuds of faction and the fumblings of official folly, England is England still-only more so. You shall see how sleepless a sentinel, how vigilant & warder, how stout a champion, her hovour and best interests have in

“ Yourself !” cried the great Elizabethans, simultaneously.

“ Precisely," said Mr. Purch, calmly. “Natural modesty must not be indulged in at the expense of obvious truth. You shall see, also, how I counsel her counsellors, lead her leaders, enlighten her illuminati, reward her heroes, trounce ber traitors, castigate her humbugs, and flagellate her fools. In short, you shall see, as by a brilliant beacon-glare, all that is best worth seeing in this England of the

Victorian Jubilee Year."
Whereupon, without another word, Punch presented to the two illustrious Elizabethans his

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THE MYSTERY OF GREAT PRINTING-HOUSE SQUARE. H. R. H. The Prince of Wules.—That there may be no further

THE only newspaper, as far as we are aware, that published the opposition to my excellent scheme for an Imperial Institute. That startling news of Lord RANDOLPH's resignation last Thursday mornMr. Punch and myself may agree on every subject.

ing was the Times. So for once not even the most Ultra-Liberal or Lord Salisbury. —That HARTINGTON will listen to reason, and Gazette was so astonished that it thought the Jupiter must have been

Radical journal was in advance of the Times. The Pall Mall that every blessing may light'on my dear RANDOLPH's head. Lord Hartington.-Wish RANDOLPH hadn't spoilt my holiday. But the ex-Chancellor was too wary a bird to be caught, and the

hoaxed, and sent an Interviewer post haste to Lord RANDOLPI. Wish I hadn't been born an hereditary politician.

P.M.G. Young Man had to be content with interviewing, Lord Mr. Parnell.—That my friends in Ireland will in future leave me RANDOLPH's

Secretary. Who gave the Times the private and conto fix on the “plan of campaign.

fidential tip? Was it RANDOLPH himself ? Anyhow the Times was The Czar.–That the Powers would unanimously accept KATKOFF not hoaxed, though it was “taken in ” everywhere and by everybody as Prince of Bulgaria, so that I could have a few hours' peace in my that morning. own dominions.

The Prince of Mingrelia. - That the Czas would let me go off quietly to Monte Carlo, instead of Sophia.

To Lovers of a Good Dinner. Mr. Justice Butt.—That the Divorce Court may be turned into a “CIVILISED man cannot live without dining," sings Lord LYTTON. Camera Obscura.

Still less can half-civilised children. If, however, any bon-vivant, Mr. Gladstone. - That the Sultan had given me that diamond who happens to have a good heart as well as a good digestion, wishes cigar-case instead of CHAMBERLAIN,

to know what pleasure can be got out of dining, let him take a turn at Mr. Labouchere.—That the G. O. M. may be led to see the value the Mission Room in Clerkenwell Close, where Mr. J. A. Groom, Superof my constant support by the time he is making up his next intendent of the Flower Girls' Mission and Brigade, on Wednesdays Cabinet.

and Thursdays supplies halfpenny hot meat dinners to hundreds of Mr. Chamberlain.—That I may get the Premiership.

poor children. A Halfpenay Hot Meat Dinner! If that is not a Mr. Morley.- I wish he may get it.

good" dinner, what is ? Failing a personal visit, the next best

thing the bon-vivant can do is to send a representative-in the shape Lord R. Churchill.—That those idiotic London Members really of a handsome contribution to the Mission's funds. A guinea will knew something of the public opinion they are supposed to represent, give a dinner to 504 poor children! Spare as many guineas as and that I had never been led by them into an unpopular crusade possible; send some to Nazareth House for the poor old folks at against the Coal and Grain Dues.

home there, and you will have done something worthy of the title of Sir. Philip Cunliffe Owen.—That I had never set eyes on South the real Bon-Visant, with an emphasis on the "bon." Kensington?

The Gorernor of Kilmainham. That the Nationalist platform may always contain a plank-bed as one item. Sir Charles Warren.—That not a single aggrieved citizen during notice of this charmingly got-up and most seasonable book we omit

" DAYS WITH SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY" (MACMILLAN).-In our the whole twelvemonth may have reason to think that the Force is ted to mention the name of the Artist, Mr. Hugu THOMSON, whose no remedy.

work does so much to enhance the value of the selections. But why Mr. Punch, for the whole British Public. - That the year may did we omit it? Because we could not find it, where, as we contend, contain as few Society scandals, prosecutions of Irish leaders, Par- it ought to have been, on the title-page facing the frontispiece, liamentary wrangles, All-night Sittings, Trafalgar Square Meetings, which, by the way, is not at all a fair specimen of his work throughPrize-fights, East Winds, Burglaries, and Bye-Elections as is con- out the volume. After careful search right through the book, we sistent with the continued and unimpaired existence of the British discovered it at last where we might have looked at first, modestly Constitution,

recorded on a sort of fly-page at the commencement. Quite an anexpected pleasure, and delighted to meet him anywhere. It is

also emblazoned on the cover, but the cover of our copy was itself ANOTHER “NEW DEPARTURE." - Lord RANDOLPH's from the protected by a paper wrapper, which as it happened we did not Cabinet.

remove. This explanation is simple and satisfactory.

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