PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

Volume 104, April 8th 1893

edited by Sir Francis Burnand

SPORTING ANSWERS.

ANGLING.

Fleacatcher.—Yes, the trout in the river Itching (this is the only correct spelling) are red, and, before they are boiled, raw. The best method of catching them is to tickle them. When you have hooked an Itching trout, you first scratch him, and then cook him.

Novice.—We only knew one man who could make a decent rod, and he died twenty years ago. Remember the old adage so dear to Izaak, Qui parcit virgæ spoliat puerum. For instructions as to use of implement, and translation of Latin, apply to any head-master. Failure in the latter will inevitably lead to application of the former. Then pause for reflection, but don't sit down.

Spook.—What on earth is the use of applying to us about a phantom? We never keep one on the premises. Try personal interview with W. T. Stead, who has a fine selection, Julia being specially effective. Why do you ask if we generally spin? Not having been born a top, we prefer walking.

Contemplative.—(1) It's absolutely useless offering us these paltry inducements to betray the secrets of our skill. We are—we hope we may say it without undue pride—an All-Round Angler, and we are not going to be squared by a bait of that kind. (2) We have never pretended we were a salmon. If Andrew Lang says we have, we challenge him to repeat it to our face before witnesses. (3) Whitebait are no longer kept in the Round Pond at Kensington. We knew as many as four there ten years ago.

Calipee.—You are quite right. When a ship turns turtle the fact is instantly communicated to the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of the City of London. They proceed to the spot in the Maria Wood, and the one who secures the interesting saurian is allowed to eat all the green fat. With you we hope devoutly that the time is far distant when the desecrating hand of a Socialistic Government will be allowed to lay a finger on these ancient civic customs. No. The Fishmongers' Company do not sell fish. Their motto is, Edo, non vendo.

Acton Est.—The Cornhill Magazine for this month has an interesting article on "Actors and Actresses in Westminster Abbey," not seen there much when alive, but there for good after their decease. It is stated of Mrs. Barry that she was not interred in the Abbey, as has been, it appears, generally supposed, but found her resting-place at Acton. Odd, that when she had ceased to act, she should be sent to Act-on!

"TAKE CARE OF THE PENCE, AND THE POUNDS," &c.

Muriel. "Mamma, what have you got the Carriage out for so late? Where are you going?"

Mrs. Goldie. "Now, Muriel, you know how your Father keeps worrying about Extravagance, and of course I must set an Example. So I'm going to the Public Library to see the Evening Paper!"

THE CRY OF THE CUE-IST.

(To the Champion, by a Discouraged Competitor.)

"Epsom Spring Meeting."—In former times this used to be a fashionable rendezvous for invalids who went there to drink the beneficial waters of the Epsom Spring. Now there is not much water taken at these Spring Meetings; and what water is taken is not "an unmixed good."

A Lesson in "Book-keeping."—Never lend one.

AFTER THE VOLUNTEER REVIEW.

Scene—An Office. Brown and Jones discovered talking over the incidents of the recent holiday.

Brown. Yes; I was up at six on the Monday.

Jones. Well, you were in luck; for I had to be ready by four. The battalion had to be drawn up at the station by 4·45.

Brown. To be sure. You went down before we did.

Jones. Yes. I wish we had got some coffee before starting.

Brown. But you had your breakfast on your arrival, didn't you?

Jones. Yes, to be sure; but as we were a bit late, it was rather a scramble.

Brown. Well, of course one has to get on to parade as soon as possible. We cut it rather fine too. But that's the case with all of us.

Jones. To be sure; and if you lose time at one end, you must make up for it at the other—that stands to reason. And how did you get on?

Brown. First rate. We were on the march from nine to five.

Jones. So were we; and didn't have time scarcely to get to our havresacks.

Brown. Just our fortune. Always on the move. I wore out my leathers in fine style.

Jones. So did I. And then we had to go back to the train before we could get any dinner.

Brown. My fate too. And, when I got home, the slavey had forgotten to lay supper!

Jones. So had mine. But still it was a glorious holiday—now, wasn't it?

Brown. I should say it was! A glorious holiday!

[They return to their ledgers.

QUEER QUERIES.

Abscondrelism.—I belong to a Building Society. At present the concern is exceptionally prosperous, and I have no reason to suppose that the Directors and Manager are not scrupulously honest. Still, it is as well to be prepared for all eventualities, and, as a couple of years seems to be about the time required by the authorities before they can make up their minds to prosecute anybody, I should like to know if I could apply for a warrant against the officials of my Society at once, so as to have everything ready in case any of them should develop fraudulent tendencies a few years hence? Would there be any objection to this? Perhaps some legal reader would reply. Also, is it a fact that Messrs. Balbert and Hurlfour have started a model Colony, on entirely new and philanthropic lines, in Mexico, and are inviting English settlers (unconnected with the "Liberator" Society) to join them there, the prospectus of the scheme being headed:—"By kind permission of the Public Prosecutor"?—Prophylactic.