The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or the London Charivari Volume 107, November 17, 1894, by Various This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Title: Punch, Or the London Charivari Volume 107, November 17, 1894 Author: Various Release Date: September 8, 2014 [EBook #46806] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer, Wayne Hammond and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
229
A FITTING OPPORTUNITY.
Comfortable Citizen (to Irish Beggar, who has asked for an old Coat).
"But what use would my Things be to you? You're such a Scare-crow, and I'm so stout!"
Irish Beggar. "Ah, yer Honour, but it's yourself that has plenty of Spare Clothes!"
(By Q. H. Gladstonius Flaccus, Junior.)
Clearly not the Leader of the Flock.—Of course, the reverend gentleman cannot be considered as a shepherd as long as his name is Head-lam.
Dearest Gladys,—You have made immense progress since you first came out. Still, you will be all the better for an occasional hint from your more sophisticated friend. Your brief engagement to the serious young stamp-collector was—whatever may be said against it—at least, an experience, and I don't at all disapprove of Cissy, and Baby Beaumont, and the other clever boys, but—why call Captain Mashington "Jack"? That wonderful tennis-player, Mrs. Lorne Hopper has merely, tacitly, lent him to you, she will soon be in London again, and then, shooting and theatricals over, "Jack" will also go back to the city of mist and fog. You will be obliged to return him, whether "with thanks" or not. He is definitely charming, but charmingly indefinite, and, in fact, he is playing with you as you and Oriel played with each other, as Miss Toogood is now playing with Oriel, and as someone (let us hope) will, some day, play with Miss Toogood. Of course, as long as you both know it's a game and "play the rules" it's all right.
I enjoyed your letter telling me how "splendidly" the theatricals went off, and that "everyone said it was a great success." My dear child, you are delightful—quite refreshing; and have kept, in all its early bloom, your astonishing talent for believing that people mean, literally, what they say. How on earth can you, or any of the other performers, know whether it was a success or not? Of course everyone said it was. Quite so; who would be rude enough to say it was a failure? The more atrocious the performance, the more praise it would get. Guests invariably flatter amateurs to their faces; and, on the other hand, however admirable it may have been, they never fail to abuse it to everyone else. I don't know whether it's jealousy, or simply irritation at being obliged to sit still (generally in the dark), and look on while others are showing off and enjoying themselves; but I do know that they criticise severely, without exception, all amateur entertainments. As I am your most intimate friend, of course people think it safe to disparage you to me, and I have had various accounts. All the men agreed that it was "awful rot," and the women that it was quite absurd, very dull, and as long as the Cromwell Road; that our dear Cissy was quite too ridiculously conceited as a manager, attempting effects, suitable only for Drury Lane, on a tiny drawing-room stage; for instance, those dreadful stone steps, on which you were to "trip down," and over which you tripped up. You see, my informant caught you tripping!
Cissy, poor incompetent darling, made, it seems, touching attempts to be "topical," and "up to date," by allusions of the tritest and lamest description to the Empire, the Czar, and dynamite, and by wearing a huge green carnation. The whole thing completely missed fire, I am told; and was the usual tedious exhibition of complacent young vanity. You're too sensible to be offended, dear, especially as I can no more form a judgment from their description than from yours—knowing you all to be prejudiced. However, I quite believe you looked sweet in your pretty costume, and I wish I had been there to see the fun.
Last night, at dinner, I met your old admirer, Mr. Goldbeiter. He told me he wanted to be married, and asked me "to look out for a nice wife for him." I am afraid the sort of man who says that lives to be an old bachelor. I could have looked after him better, but that on my other side was a person in whom I take great interest; that is to say, someone I have only just met. The Lyon Taymers would like him. He is a writer, perfectly "new"; and at present the cause of great disputes as to who discovered him. He is beautiful, of course young, and will be very agreeable when he has settled on his pose; at present, he's a little undecided about it.
Not having read a line of his, or even knowing he was an author, I began with my usual formula, "I am so interested in your work, Mr. de Trouvaille" (he's French by descent). He was a little doubtful of me at first, but I think we shall become friends. He said nothing about having met me in a previous existence, did not ask if I believed in instantaneous sympathy, and omitted to inquire which was not my day at home. So, you see, he is not quite like everyone else. Before the end of dinner, he had spoken, very respectfully, but not unfavourably, of my eyes, and he is going to send me his book, Enchantment. He belongs to the new literary school they call "Sensitivists." I wonder what it means! Good-bye, dear.
Ever your loving
"Nullis Medicabilis Herbis," &c.—A youthful author suffering
from a violent attack of the critics.
230
231
Scene—The interior of a classic Country Villa. Present—An aged, illustrious, but retired, Statesman and Leader, engaged now in thrumming a lyre. To him enter his youthful successor, with certain scrolls.
Senex (eagerly). My dear Primula! So glad you have come! The very man I wished to see. Be seated.
Juvenis (depositing scrolls). A thousand thanks. Delighted to see you looking so well, my dear Gladstonius.
Senex (cheerily). Never better, thank the gods!—and the ocularius!
[Twangles nimbly.
Juvenis. Ah! Cincinnatus, in retirement, pleased himself with the plough; your recreation was wont to be the axe or the banjo; now I perceive it is the—harp!
Senex (sharply). Not at all, Primula, not at all. This is not a harp!
[Plays and sings.
Juvenis (astounded). Charming, I'm sure!
Senex (beaming). Think so? I fear you flatter.
Juvenis. Not at all. You may say, with your new favourite—
Senex (modestly). Very pretty! But I fear the ever-youthful Muses may disdain an Old Man's belated wooing.
Juvenis (slily). Even a Grand Old Man's?
Senex (shuddering). Nay, no more of that, an' you love me. By the way, I wanted to consult you on a little musical matter.
Juvenis (dubiously). Ah! Concerning yon Hibernian Harp, I presume?
Senex (impatiently). Dear me, no! The Hibernian Harp be—jangled. As, indeed, it is, and unstrung into the bargain.
Juvenis (relieved). Why, have you then, like the other Minstrel Boy, "torn its chords asunder"?
Senex. Well, no, not that exactly. I fear its native thrummers will spare others that trouble. But—ahem!—it is the Horatian Lyre that interests me at present.
Juvenis. I see:—
Senex (musingly). Hum! I have not yet tried the Tibia—the shrill pipe—but I may.
Juvenis. Doubtless; and you are quite equal to it.
Senex (drily). Thanks! But I've no wish, my dear Primula, "to play the rôle of elderly Narcissus." At present my part is only that of Echo—to the Venusian's vibrant voice.
[Muses.
Juvenis (taking advantage of the opportunity). Well, my dear Gladstonius, there are one or two little matters upon which I want to take your opinion. For example, Cæcilius——
Senex (quickly). "Cæcilius, who provoked the populace to such a degree, that Cicero could hardly restrain them from doing him violence." Do you want me to play the part of Cicero?
Juvenis (taken aback). Well—ahem!—hardly that, perhaps. But——
Senex (interrupting him). My dear Primula, as I have already said in response to an appeal from a friend of the modern Orbilius (not like Horace's pedagogue, "Plagosus," though), "After a contentious life of fifty-two years, I am naturally anxious to spend the remainder of my days in freedom from controversy."
Juvenis. Oh! Quite so—of course. But ahem!—the people are a little pressing——
Senex. Eh? To hurtful measures? What says Augustus's "pleasant mannikin" again, à propos?
[Thrums.
Juvenis. Doubtless. One such as yourself, "retired from business," like your beloved Horace on his Sabine farm.
But of me it cannot—yet—be said—
Senex. Hah! Sir John Beaumont's version. Not so bad, but might be improved, I think. By the way, why should not you and I do the "Satires"—together?
Juvenis. Charmed, I am sure. Just now, however, I fear I'm a little too busy.
Senex. Pooh! Only occupies one's odd moments, and is as easy as shaving, or shaping a new Constitution. For example, I'll give you an impromptu version—call it adaptation if you like—of the first "Ad Mæcenatem":
Juvenis. Oh! thanks, so much! Only——
Senex. It won't take ten minutes. Listen!
[Tunes up and sings.
Ad Roseberiam.
There! What think you of that—for an impromptu?
Juvenis (rousing himself). Oh, excellent—most excellent! How do you do it? And now, my dear Gladstonius, with your kind permission, we will go——
Senex (promptly). To dinner! Exactly, my dear Primula.
Come along, my boy!!!
[Skips away, followed slowly by his guest.
A POLITICAL CONFERENCE.
"Gladstonius parvam rem Horatianam compositionis suoe ad Roseberium recitans."
A GOOD GUESS.
First 'Arry (who has been reading City Article). "I say, what's 'Brighton A's' mean?"
Second 'Arry (of a Sporting turn). "'Brighton 'Arriers,' I s'pose."
WONDERFUL WHAT AN ADJECTIVE WILL DO.
Brown (newly married—to Jones, whom he entertained a few evenings previously). "Well, what did you think of us, old Boy, eh?"
Jones. "Oh, pretty Flat. Er—awfully pretty Flat!"
Mr. Punch, Sir,—Magistrates are beginning, not a moment too soon, to protest against the ridiculous pockets in ladies' dresses, which afford such a temptation to the felonious classes! I should like to draw attention to an invention of my own which, I think, quite meets the difficulty. It is called the "Patent Unpickable Electrical Safety Pneumatic Combination Purse-Pocket," and it does not matter in the least in what part of the dress this pocket is placed. No sooner is the thief's hand in contact with the purse than a powerful voltaic circuit is at once formed, and by the principle of capillary attraction, coupled with that of molecular magnetisation, the hand is firmly imprisoned. Scientific readers will readily understand how this happens. In his efforts to release his hand the thief touches a button, when an electrical search light of five thousand candle-power is at once thrown around, a policeman's rattle of a peculiarly intense tone is set going, several land torpedoes discharge simultaneously from all sides of the dress, while the voice of a deceased judge issuing from a concealed phonograph pronounces a sentence of seven years' penal servitude on the now conscience-stricken depredator.
Yours,
Born 1818. Died November 3, 1894.
["The unique characteristic of Mr. Walter's life was his relation to The Times."—Obituary Notice in the Times Newspaper.]
233
A deputy-assistant of the Baron has been perusing with great contentment The Catch of the County, by Mrs. Edward Kennard, a lady who is already responsible for The Hunting Girl; Wedded to Sport, and a number of other romances dear to the heart of those who follow the hounds. The deputy-assistant reports that he was delighted with the newest of the authoress's novels, and found the three volumes rather too short than too long. Now that London is in the midst of November and its fogs, those who dwell near the frosted-silvery Thames can take a real pleasure in stories of the country. To sum up, The Catch of the County must (to adopt the slang of the moment) have "caught on." A fact that must be as satisfactory to Mrs. Kennard as to her readers. And when both supply and demand are pleased, Messrs. F. V. White & Co., the publishers, must also (like Cox and Box) be "satisfied."
A Baronitess writes: "Gaily-bound Christmas books have been facing me for some time, and, with an insinuating look, seem to say, 'Turn over a new leaf.' We do; many new leaves."
Blackie and Son could be called first favourites in the boys' field of literature. They make a good start with Wulf the Saxon and In the Heart of the Rockies, both by G. A. Henty. They are both capital specimens of the Hentyprising hero.
In Press-Gang Days. By Edward Pickering. A story, not a newspaper romance, though it is a new edition of the type of the wicked uncle, who makes use of "the liberty of the Press" to have his nephew bound—as if he were a book worth preserving—and taken off to sea. This proceeding made an impression on our good brave youth, who, after fighting with Nelson, learnt that "an Englishman should do his duty," escapes a French prison, and returns to "give what for" to his uncle.
Most interesting and practical is The Whist Table, edited by Portland, especially to those whose only idea of the game is after the style of the man in Happy Thoughts who knows that the scoring had something to do with a candlestick and half-a-crown. In this book they will find a helping hand which gives the "c'rect" card to play. Both these books, published by John Hogg, are pig-culiarly good.
"A powerful finish," quoth the Baron, leaning upon the chair-arm, and, like the soldier in the old ballad, wiping away a tear which he had most unwillingly shed over the last chapter of Children of Circumstance, "a very powerful finish. There is some comedy, too, in the story (which, I regret to say, is spun out into three volumes)—rather Meredithian perhaps, but still forming some relief to the sicknesses, illnesses and deaths—there are certainly three victims of Iota's steel and one doubtful—of which the narrative has more than its fair share." Of the comedy portion, the courtship of Jim and Rica is excellent. But where other novels err in superfluity of description and lack of dialogue, the fault of this one is just the other way, and the dialogues may be, not "skipped," but bounded over. Nothing of the earlier portion, nor the powerful final chapter of this story can be missed: as for the intermediate stage, when the intelligent and experienced novel-reader has once grasped the characters, he can drop in on them now and then, in a friendly way, and see how they are getting on.
The Baron congratulates Messrs. Macmillan on a charming little book called Coridon's Songs, which are not all songs sung by that youthful Angler-Saxon whose parent was Izaak Walton, but also songs by Gay, Fielding, and Anonymi. To these worthy Master Austin Dobson hath written a mighty learned and withal entertaining preface, the gems of the book being the illustrations, done by Hugh Thomson in his best style, "wherewith," quotes the incorrigible Baron, "I am Hughgely pleased." 'Tis an excellent Christmas present, as, "if I may be permitted to say so," quoth the Baron, sotto voce, "to those whom Providence hath blest with friends and relatives expecting gifts in the coming 'festive season,' is also a certain single volume entitled Under the Rose, an illustrated work, not altogether unknown, as a serial, in Mr. Punch's pages, and highly recommended by
Rus in Urbe.—Fancy there being a "Rural Dean of St. George's, Hanover Square"! His name was mentioned one day last week in the Times' "Ecclesiastical Intelligence." It is the Rev. J. Storrs. Not "Army and Navy Storrs," nor "General Storrs," but "Ecclesiastical Storrs."
Happy Application.—Our Squire has a shooting party every Saturday to stay till Monday, and longer if they can. He calls it "The Saturday and Monday Pops."
(To Mr. Punch.)
Dear Mister,—To you, who are a so great lover of the theatre, english and french, I send my impressions of the first of the new drama of Mister Sardou. It is to you of to spread them in the country of the immortal Shikspir. Allow that I render my homages to this name so illustrious, me who have essayed since so long time to speak and to write the language of that great author. And see there, in fine I can to do it!
It wants me some words for to praise the put in scene of this new drama at the theatre of Mistress Sarah Bernhardt. Gismonda! It is magnificent! It is superb! It is a dream! Ah! if your Shikspir could see this luxury of decorations, this all together so glorious! Him who had but a curtain and an etiquette! And Molière? And Racine? Could they make to fabricate of such edifices, of such trees, of such furniture? They had not these—how say you in english—"proprieties," which belong to the proprietor? Yes, I think that I have heard the phrase, "offend against the proprieties." We never offend against them in the theatres of Paris; they are always as it should be. But here, at the Renaissance, Mistress Bernhardt has done still more. Each scenery is a picture of the most admirables, a veritable blow of the eye.
I go to give you of them a short description. The first picture is the Acropolis, under the domination of the Florentines at the end of the fourteenth century. What perfume of poetry antique! What costumes! That has the air of an account of Boccaccio, of a picture of Botticelli. One sees there the figures of Angelico, the colours of Veronese. It is an Alma-Teddama of the middle age. And when Mistress Bernhardt and her following, all resplendent of costume, are assembled upon the scene, one can see realised a group from the Decameron. And the second picture, and the third, and the fourth? Can I say more of them? They are superb. In the fourth there is a cypress high of six yards, there, alone, at the middle of the scene. One says he is natural. That may be. In any case he is marvellous. But the fifth picture, it is sublime! One cannot more! It is the last word of the modern theatre! It wants me the words, it wants me the place for to speak of it. Shikspir alone would have could to render justice to this picture so ravishing.
As to the action of the piece, you will desire to know something. Frankly I tell you I observed it not. In the middle of this luxury of decorations there wander here and there some persons, dressed at the mode the most beautiful, who speak in effect not too shortly. There are veritable discourses—how say you "conférences"?—on florentine history, of the most interestings, but a little long. The brave Frenchmans pronounce the Italian names in good patriots. They imitate not the accent of our perfidious neighbours of the Triple Alliance. Ah no! They say them as in french. And what names! Acciajuoli! It is like a sneeze. And Mistress Bernhardt is gentle, caressing, passionate, contemptuous, and terrible turn to turn; she murmurs softly, and at the fine she screams. And Mister Guitry is severe and menacing; he speaks at low voice, and at the fine he shouts. But after all what is that that is that that? One thinks not to it. The decorations, the costumes! See there that which one regards, that which one applauds, that which one shall forget never!
Be willing to agree the assurance of my high consideration.
Misther Punch, Sorr,—Frinchmen are that consaited they think no one can invint anything but thimselves. It's as well known as the story of Mulligan's leather breeches that the first Earl of Mayo inwinted Mayernase sauce (ah! bother the spellin' now), and called it after himself and his eldest son, Lord Naas; faix, there ye have it, Mayonaas; and isn't it called Paddy Bourke's butther to this day all over County Kildare; and many a bite of could salmon have I ate wid that same; and don't believe, Sorr, thim that tell you it's onwholesome, for, if you'll get the laste sup of the crathur wid it, it's just as harmless as new milk from the cow; and shure it's meself that ought to know, bein' cook to a lady that has the best blood of ould Ireland in her body; and her husband—God help him, poor man!—is an Englishman; but we can't be all perfect, and whin I make thim sauces to his taste he just sends me out a glass of wine, wid his compliments, and wid mine to your honour,
I remane your honour's obadient Servant,
***This Correspondence must now cease. This is the second time we've said this.—Ed.
234
L'ART D'ÊTRE GRAND-PÈRE.
Daughter and Mamma. "Papa, dear, Baby wants to play with your new Microscope. May he have it?"
Grandpapa (deep in differential and integral calculus). "My new Microscope? Oh, yes, of course, dear! But he must mind and be very careful with it!"
Air—"The Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò."
A TOUCHING APPEAL.
Johnny Chinaman. "BOO-HOO! HE HURTEE ME WELLY MUCH! NO PEACEY MAN COME STOPPY HIM!"
(By a Courteous Conductor.)
Securing a "P. S."
I have supposed that you have been appointed Secretary to the Public Squander Department. You will have much to do, so the less you have to read, the better. Under these circumstances, I merely supply you at this moment with the following
Examination Paper for Would-be Private Secretaries.
1. Give your autobiography, either as (1) a good story against yourself, (2) a minute in four lines, or (3) a long yarn suitable for filling up the time when things have to be kept going for three-quarters of an hour to accommodate your chief.
2. Describe your duties to your chief (1) when he is in town but wants to be thought away in the country, and (2) when you have to assist him as "Vice-chair" at a dinner party.
3. Given that you have for neighbours at a political banquet a race-horse owner, a supporter of the temperance cause, a theatrical proprietor, and a rural dean. Write an anecdote that will interest all of them, and cause the conversation between them to be general.
4. Take the following facts. Owing to a blunder, a ship has been sent to a wrong port, carrying a wrong cargo to a wrong receiver, who has sent it away, and thus prevented it being used for its right purpose. This trifling error of judgment has caused a war that could easily have been prevented. Explain all this away in such a manner that the statement when delivered by your chief shall be received with "general cheering" in the House of Commons.
5. Write a short essay showing your points and testing your capabilities. 235
236
237
BOUGHT AND SOLD.
Dealer. "What? this 'ere little 'oss bin Shot over? Lor' bless y', heeps o' times!"
II.—Preliminary Canters.
I said, when I last took up my pen as a veracious chronicler of the recent history of Mudford (for this is the name of our village; not elegant, perhaps, but none the less true to life), that my meeting deserved a chapter to itself. It does. It deserves, in point of fact, many chapters, though I only purpose to give it one. But it must be the third chapter, and not the second. For before this meeting was held, many things happened, and as I look back I often wonder how it was that I was enabled to endure all the trials and tribulations which Fortune had in store for me, and that I am spared to write this unpretending account of all that happened. I say this, because I have been reading of late historical romances, and I find from them that a little moralising is never out of place in the course of a story.
The first thing I did was to issue a bill, stating that the meeting would be held. It was headed, "Mudford," and announced that I—described as Timothy Winkins, Esq., J.P. (for I boast that proud distinction through an error of the Lord Chancellor of the period, who mistook me for a member of his party, which I was not)—that I would explain the provisions and working of the Parish Councils Act, that "questions would be invited at the close," and that "all persons were cordially invited to attend." I sent a copy of this to every one in the village, and then fondly imagined that I should hear no more about the matter till the fateful night approached. In that I was mistaken, however.
Next morning, as I was sitting in my study—curiously enough getting ready some notes for what was to be my epoch-making speech—I saw coming up the drive two ladies, whom I recognised as Mrs. Letham Havitt and Mrs. Arble March, both ladies, I remembered, who had made themselves prominent in politics in the village, Mrs. Havitt as a leading light of the Women's Liberal Federation, and Mrs. March as a Lady Crusader (is that right?) of the Primrose League. A moment later, and those ladies were ushered into my room.
"We've come," said Mrs. Havitt, cutting the cackle, and coming at once to the 'osses, "we've come to see you about that meeting."
"Oh, indeed!" I murmured. "Yes, the meeting."
"We notice," said Mrs. Arble March, taking up the running, "that you only say 'persons' may attend the meeting. Now we're very much afraid that women won't understand that they may come."
"But surely," I protested, feebly, "a woman is a person."
"Well, we think" (this as a duet) "that you ought to say that 'all persons, men or women, married or single, are invited to attend.'"
I was a good deal staggered, and thought of asking whether they wouldn't like the name of the village altered, or my name printed without the J.P., but I refrained. I promised to print new bills, and I did it. I thought it would be a poor beginning to a peaceful revolution to have an angry woman in every household.
Those were my first visitors. After that I had about two calls a day. One day the Vicar dropped in to afternoon tea, to congratulate me on my public spirit. I confess I felt rather pleased. I had evidently done the right, the high-minded, the patriotic thing. My mind became filled with visions of myself as Chairman of the Parish Council, the head man of a contented village. Just before he left, however, the Vicar suggested that I should advise the electors to elect into the chair someone who had had previous training of what its duties and responsibilities were, and I suddenly remembered that the Vicar was the present Chairman of the Vestry. Then somehow I guessed why I had been favoured with a visit. The curious thing was, that my next caller (who arrived half an hour afterwards) came to say that the most satisfactory thing in the whole Act was, that the clergyman could not take the chair. Then my memory once more told me what manner of man I was talking to—he was a prominent local preacher. I was being nobbled.
And so it went on. My answer to all who came was, that they could come and ask me questions at the meeting. Is was a convenient plan enough—at the time. Yet my suggestions—like chickens and curses—came home to roost—at the meeting. And that, as I have said, is the third chapter.
238
["The billiard-season has set in in real earnest."—Daily Paper.]
A UTILITARIAN.
The Vicar. "And how do you like the new Chimes, Mrs. Weaver? You must be glad to hear those beautiful Hymn-tunes at night! They must remind you of——"
Mrs. Weaver. "Yes; that be so, Sir. I've took my Medicine quite regular ever since they was begun!"
Curious.—A lady who had read the two recent controversies anent the Lords and the Empire got slightly muddled. "Well, I've never seen anything wrong," she said, "in Promenade Peers."
Florence! O glorious city of Lorenzo the Magnificent, cradle of the Renaissance, birthplace of Dante, home of Boccaccio, where countless painters and sculptors produced those deathless works which still fascinate an admiring world, at last I approach thee! I arrive at the station, I scramble for a facchino, I drive to my hotel. It is night. To-morrow all thy medieval loveliness will burst upon my enraptured eyes.
In the morning up early and out. Immediately fall against a statue of a fat man in a frock coat and trousers. Can this be Michael Angelo's David? No, no! It is Manin by Nono. Turn hastily aside and discover a quay. Below is a waste of mud, through which meander a few inches of thick brown water. The Arno! Heavens, what associations! Raise my eyes and perceive on the opposite bank a gasometer. Stand horror-stricken in the roadway, and am nearly run over by a frantic bicyclist. Save myself by a great effort and cling for support to a gaslamp until I can recover from the shock. Resolve then to seek out the medieval loveliness. Start along the quay. Ha, there is a statue! Doubtless by Michael Angelo. Hardly; the face seems familiar. Of course, it is Garibaldi! Turn and fly up a narrow street. Here at last is something old, here at last are the buildings on which Dante may have looked, in which Fra Angelico may have painted, here at last——. Why, what's this? It's an omnibus. It fills the street. Wedge myself in a doorway, and when it has passed within three inches of my toes, hurry down a side street, a still narrower one. Here, perhaps, Benvenuto Cellini devised some glorious metal work. Ha, there is a silversmith's even to this day! Look! what are those things in the window, above the inscription "English Spoken"? They are teapots from Birmingham! Resolve to avoid small streets, and hurry on to large open piazza. Now for some architecture by Giotto, some sculpture by Donatello! Yes, there is an equestrian statue. Doubtless one of the Medici. At last! No, it's not. It's Victor Emanuel. At least, the inscription says so, though the likeness, not being a speaking one, gives no information. Turn sadly aside and contemplate some melancholy modern copies of the regular architecture of rectangular Turin.
Begin to feel depressed. Have not yet found the romantic medievalism. Somewhat revived by déjeuner, resolve to seek it in the suburbs. Of course, Fiesole. A pilgrimage to the home of Fra Angelico. Sublime! Will go on foot, avoiding the high road. Climb by narrow ways, past garden walls. Behind them may be the gardens where Boccaccio's stories were told; down these narrow roads Fra Angelico may have passed. How exquisite to meditate far from the tourist crowd! Filled with enthusiasm, and gazing at the beautiful blue sky, arrive at the top, and stumble headlong over some obstacle in the road. It is the rail of a tramway! Stagger feebly to the Piazza just as the electric tramcar bumps and rumbles up the hill. From it descends a crowd, carrying, not lilies, as in Angelico's pictures, but Bædekers. And I hear no tale from the Decameron, but a mingled confusion of strange tongues. "Ja, ja, ja; what a squash; nous étions un peu serrés mais enfin; ach wunderschön; un soldo signore; ja, ja, ja; wal, I guess this is Feaysolay, che rumore nel tram; I say, let's buy one of these straw fans for Aunt Mary; they're awfully cheap, only half a franc, and look worth half-a-crown; ah voilà le café; wollen sie ein Glas Bier trinken; ja, ja, ja!" Resolve to abandon search for medieval loveliness, and go down sadly in the tramcar.
But one art remains. In the country where Verdi still writes I can at least enjoy music. So after dinner seek the Trianon. It sounds like a music-hall; but then here, even in a music-hall, there must be music. As I enter, a familiar sound bursts upon my ear. The singer is Italian, the words are French, but the tune is English. She is singing "The Man that Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo."
"Ah!" sighed Mrs. R. sadly, when her advice had not been taken by her daughter, "I'm a mere siphon in the family!" 239
(A Story in Scenes.)
PART XX.—"DIFFERENT PERSONS HAVE DIFFERENT OPINIONS."
Scene XXX.—Lady Maisie's Room at Wyvern.
Time—Saturday night, about 11.30.
Lady Maisie (to Phillipson, who is brushing her hair). You are sure Mamma isn't expecting me? (Irresolutely.) Perhaps I had better just run in and say good night.
Phillipson. I wouldn't recommend it, really, my lady; her ladyship seems a little upset in her nerves this evening.
Lady Maisie (to herself). Il-y-à de quoi! (Aloud, relieved.) It might only disturb her, certainly.... I hope they are making you comfortable here, Phillipson?
Phill. Very much so indeed, thank you, my lady. The tone of the Room downstairs is most superior.
Lady Maisie. That's satisfactory. And I hear you have met an old admirer of yours here—Mr. Spurrell, I mean.
Phill. We did happen to encounter each other in one of the galleries, my lady, just for a minute; though I shouldn't have expected him to allude to it!
Lady Maisie. Indeed! And why not?
Phill. Mr. James Spurrell appears to have elevated himself to a very different sphere from what he occupied when I used to know him, my lady; though how and why he comes to be where he is, I don't rightly understand myself at present.
Lady Maisie (to herself). And no wonder! I feel horribly guilty! (Aloud.) You mustn't blame poor Mr. Spurrell, Phillipson; he couldn't help it!
Phill. (with studied indifference). I'm not blaming him, my lady. If he prefers the society of his superiors to mine, he's very welcome to do so; there's others only too willing to take his place!
Lady Maisie. Surely none who would be as fond of you or make so good a husband, Phillipson!
Phill. That's as maybe, my lady. There was one young man that travelled down in the same compartment, and sat next me at supper in the room. I could see he took a great fancy to me from the first, and his attentions were really quite pointed. I am sure I couldn't bring myself to repeat his remarks, they were so flattering!
Lady Maisie. Don't you think you will be rather a foolish girl if you allow a few idle compliments from a stranger to outweigh such an attachment as Mr. Spurrell seems to have for you?
Phill. If he's found new friends, my lady, I consider myself free to act similarly.
Lady Maisie. Then you don't know? He told us quite frankly this evening that he had only just discovered you were here, and would much prefer to be where you were. He went down to the Housekeeper's Room on purpose.
Phill. (moved). It's the first I've heard of it, my lady. It must have been after I came up. If I'd only known he'd behave like that!
Lady Maisie (instructively). You see how loyal he is to you. And now, I suppose, he will find he has been supplanted by this new acquaintance—some smooth-tongued, good-for-nothing valet, I daresay?
Phill. (injured). Oh, my lady, indeed he wasn't a man! But there was nothing serious between us—at least, on my side—though he certainly did go on in a very sentimental way himself. However, he's left the Court by now, that's one comfort! (To herself.) I wish now I'd said nothing about him to Jem. If he was to get asking questions downstairs——He always was given to jealousy—reason or none!
[A tap is heard at the door.
Lady Rhoda (outside). Maisie, may I come in? if you've done your hair, and sent away your maid. (She enters.) Ah, I see you haven't.
Lady Maisie. Don't run away, Rhoda; my maid has just done. You can go now, Phillipson.
Lady Rhoda (to herself, as she sits down). Phillipson! So that's the young woman that funny vet man prefers to Us! H'm, can't say I feel flattered!
Phill. (to herself, as she leaves the room). This must be the Lady Rhoda, who was making up to my Jem! He wouldn't have anything to say to her, though; and, now I see her, I am not surprised at it!
[She goes; a pause.
Lady Rhoda (crossing her feet on the fender). Well, we can't complain of havin' had a dull evenin', can we?
Lady Maisie (taking a hand-screen from the mantelshelf). Not altogether. Has—anything fresh happened since I left?
Lady Rhoda. Nothing particular. Archie apologised to this New Man in the Billiard Room. For the Booby Trap. We all told him he'd got to. And Mr. Carrion Bear, or Blundershell, or whatever he calls himself—you know—was so awf'lly gracious and condescendin' that I really thought poor dear old Archie would have wound up his apology by punchin' his head for him. Strikes me, Maisie, that mop-headed Minstrel Boy is a decided change for the worse. Doesn't it you?
Lady Maisie (toying with the screen). How do you mean, Rhoda?
Lady Rhoda. I meantersay I call Mr. Spurrell——Well, he's real, anyway—he's a man, don't you know. As for the other, so feeble of him missin' his train like he did, and turnin' up too late for everything! Now, wasn't it?
Lady Maisie. Poets are dreamy and unpractical and unpunctual—it's their nature.
Lady Rhoda. Then they should stay at home. Just see what a hopeless muddle he's got us all into! I declare I feel as if anybody might turn into somebody else on the smallest provocation after this. I know poor Vivien Spelwane will be worryin' her pillows like rats most of the night, and I rather fancy it will be a close time for poets with your dear mother, Maisie, for some time to come. All this silly little man's fault! 240
Lady Maisie. No, Rhoda. Not his—ours. Mine and Mamma's. We ought to have felt from the first that there must be some mistake, that poor Mr. Spurrell couldn't possibly be a poet! I don't know, though; people generally are unlike what you'd expect from their books. I believe they do it on purpose! Not that that applies to Mr. Blair; he is one's idea of what a poet should be. If he hadn't arrived when he did, I don't think I could ever have borne to read another line of poetry as long as I lived!
Lady Rhoda. I say! Do you call him as good-lookin' as all that?
Lady Maisie. I was not thinking about his looks, Rhoda—it's his conduct that's so splendid.
Lady Rhoda. His conduct? Don't see anything splendid in missin' a train. I could do it myself if I tried?
Lady Maisie. Well, I wish I could think there were many men capable of acting so nobly and generously as he did.
Lady Rhoda. As how?
Lady Maisie. You really don't see! Well, then, you shall. He arrives late, and finds that somebody else is here already in his character. He makes no fuss; manages to get a private interview with the person who is passing as himself; when, of course, he soon discovers that poor Mr. Spurrell is as much deceived as anybody else. What is he to do? Humiliate the unfortunate man by letting him know the truth? Mortify my Uncle and Aunt by a public explanation before a whole dinner-party? That is what a stupid or a selfish man might have done, almost without thinking. But not Mr. Blair. He has too much tact, too much imagination, too much chivalry for that. He saw at once that his only course was to spare his host and hostess, and—and all of us a scene, by slipping away quietly and unostentatiously, as he had come.
Lady Rhoda (yawning). If he saw all that, why didn't he do it?
Lady Maisie (indignantly). Why? How provoking you can be, Rhoda! Why? Because that stupid Tredwell wouldn't let him! Because Archie delayed him by some idiotic practical joke! Because Mr. Spurrell went and blurted it all out!... Oh, don't try to run down a really fine act like that; because you can't—you simply can't!
Lady Rhoda (after a low whistle). No idea it had gone so far as that—already! Now I begin to see why Gerry Thicknesse has been lookin' as if he'd sat on his best hat, and why he told your Aunt he might have to be off to-morrow; which is all stuff, because I happen to know his leave ain't up for two or three days yet. But he sees this Troubadour has put his poor old nose out of joint for him.
Lady Maisie (flushing). Now, Rhoda, I won't have you talking as if—as if—— You ought to know, if Gerald Thicknesse doesn't, that it's nothing at all of that sort! It's just—— Oh, I can't tell you how some of his poems moved me, what new ideas, wider views they seemed to teach; and then how dreadfully it hurt to think it was only Mr. Spurrell after all!... But now—oh, the relief of finding they're not spoilt; that I can still admire, still look up to the man who wrote them! Not to have to feel that he is quite commonplace—not even a gentleman—in the ordinary sense!
Lady Rhoda (rising). Ah well, I prefer a hero who looks as if he had his hair cut, occasionally—but then, I'm not romantic. He may be the paragon you say; but if I was you, my dear, I wouldn't expect too much of that young man—allow a margin for shrinkage, don't you know. And now I think I'll turn into my little crib, for I'm dead tired. Good night; don't sit up late readin' poetry; it's my opinion you've read quite enough as it is!
[She goes.
Lady Maisie (alone, as she gazes dreamily into the fire). She doesn't in the least understand! She actually suspects me of—— As if I could possibly—or as if Mamma would ever—even if he—— Oh, how silly I am!... I don't care! I am glad I haven't had to give up my ideal. I should like to know him better. What harm is there in that? And if Gerald chooses to go to-morrow, he must—that's all. He isn't nearly so nice as he used to be; and he has even less imagination than ever! I don't think I could care for anybody so absolutely matter-of-fact. And yet, only an hour ago I almost——But that was before!
"Well, we can't complain of havin' had a dull evenin', can we?"
By Ben Trovato.—Mr. Arthur Roberts is always interested in current events, with a view to new verses for his topical songs. A friend came up to him one day last week with the latest Globe in his hand, just as the Eminent One was ordering dinner for a party of four. "They're sure to take Port Arthur!" cried the friend, excitedly. "I never touch it myself," said Mr. Roberts, "but I'll order a bottle."
With a Difference.—It is common enough, alas! for a man of high aspirations to be "sorely disappointed," but it is quite a new thing to be "sorely appointed," which is the case with Professor W. R. Sorley, who has recently been placed in the Moral Philosopher's Chair at the University of Aberdeen.
The New Broom.—The Republican Party in the United States declare—apparently with some show of likelihood—that they will "sweep the country." All honest citizens and anti-Tammany patriots must heartily hope that they will sweep it clean.
Most of the libretto of W. S. Gilbert's latest whimsical opera, entitled His Excellency, is evident proof of his excellency in this particular line and on these particular lines. Among principals, Mr. Barrington has perhaps a trifle the best of it; while the part given to our Gee-Gee, alias George Grossmith, is not so striking as his costume, both he and Mr. John Le Hay, whose make-up is wonderfully good, being somewhat put in the shade by the gaiety of the two charming young ladies Miss Jessie Bond and Miss Ellaline Terriss, who act with a real appreciation of the fun of the situation in which their dramatic-operatic lot is cast. But, after all said and sung, it is the brilliancy of the Hussars, under the command of Corporal, afterwards Colonel, Playfair, that carries the piece, and takes the audience by storm. The music by Dr. Carr would not of itself carr-y the piece were "the book" less fancifully funny than it is, and did it not contain some capital lines which are quickly taken by an appreciative audience. There is plenty of "go" in the Carr-acteristic music for the dance of Hussars; but the most catching "number" is a song of which the first bars irresistibly call to mind the song with a French refrain sung by Miss Nesville in A Gaiety Girl. Was Dr. Osmond Carr the composer of that air? or as "that air" sounds vulgar, let us substitute "that tune." If so the resemblance is accounted for, and if he wasn't, then it is only an accidental resemblance of a few bars that at once strikes the retentive ear of the amateur. Scenery and costumes are all excellent in His Excellency.
In the New York Critic a suggestion is made that it would be a graceful thing for Editors of Magazines to bring out occasionally a "Consolation Number," containing only rejected contributions. But why not give the Editor's reasons for rejecting them as well? This would be such a "consolation" to the public, if not to the authors! A specimen number might be made up somewhat as follows:—
1. "A Dream of Fair Wages."—A Rondel by Tennyson Keir Hardie Morris Snooks.
[Rejected as a mixture of bad politics with worse poetry.]
2. "Children of Easy Circumstances."—By Ω. Φ.!
[An up-to-date story, with several risky situations in it; the risk, however, has been reduced to a minimum by the gifted Authoress having contracted to indemnify the Publisher and Editor against any legal consequences that may ensue. Printed "without prejudice," and should be read in a similar spirit.]
3. "On the Magnetisation of Mollusca." By Leyden Jarre, F.S.L.
[Rejected because, although an extremely able and interesting paper in itself, it is found by experience that this sort of high-science essay requires high people to write it if it is to have a chance of being read. Nobody under the rank of a Duke should dabble in magazine science. What's the use of calling it a Peery-odical otherwise, eh?]
4.
[Rejected because this kind of "symposium" on topical subjects can be got much better, as the above writers have chiefly got it, from the daily papers. Without some magazine padding of the sort, however, "none is genuine," and the above is not much more hopeless drivel than is usually inserted.]
On the List.—Without going back to the still undiscovered horrors in the East End, we have sufficient material in the two diamond robberies Holborn district and a bomb in Mayfair to warrant us in asking where is that much-wanted Sherlock Holmes?
The L.C.C. and the Church.—"The church was condemned as dangerous by the London County Council." Is not such a paragraph as the above calculated to frighten all the good people who are so anxious on the subject of religious education? Why, certainly. Fortunately the church in question is only "All Saints Church, Mile End," which had to be repaired and restored, and which was re-opened by "Londin" (which signature, with "B" for "Bishop" before it, would become "Blondin") last Thursday. "All's well that ends well," as says the Eminently Divine Villiams.
Transcriber's Note:
Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or the London Charivari Volume
107, November 17, 1894, by Various
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
***** This file should be named 46806-h.htm or 46806-h.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
http://www.gutenberg.org/4/6/8/0/46806/
Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer,
Wayne Hammond and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
at http://www.pgdp.net
Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.
*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
www.gutenberg.org/license.
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works
1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works. See paragraph 1.E below.
1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
copied or distributed:
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
1.E.9.
1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.
1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
that
- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is
owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments
must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License. You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
Project Gutenberg-tm works.
- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the
Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
1.F.
1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.
1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809
North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email
contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
For additional contact information:
Dr. Gregory B. Newby
Chief Executive and Director
[email protected]
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To
SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.
Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
www.gutenberg.org
This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.