قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 108, May 18th, 1895
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"

Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 108, May 18th, 1895
parties into this inquiry.
Witness. Perhaps I might follow the plan I adopted in my examination-in-chief and write the name on a piece of paper?
The Judge. That seems a reasonable course to pursue.
First Counsel. As your Lordship pleases. Then be so good as to give me the name as suggested. (Witness complies.) Thank you. (After reading the paper.) Do you spell the name with a final "e"?
Second Counsel. Really, my learned friend is carrying matters too far. If the anonymity of third parties is to be preserved, such a leading question would reveal the identity at once.
The Judge. I suppose you mean that the query about the final "e" would indicate that the veiled name was "Browne."
Second Counsel. Quite so, my lord; that is a conclusion that would be accepted by persons of the most ordinary intelligence.
First Counsel. But as a matter of fact, the name to which I refer is certainly neither Brown nor Browne. I will submit the paper to your lordship.
The Judge (after perusing the slip which has been handed to him by an usher). Dear me! I am greatly surprised!
Foreman of the Jury. May we, my lord, learn the name?
First Counsel. So far as I am concerned, I shall be only too pleased to allow the Gentlemen of the Jury to have the fullest information on the point.
Second Counsel. If I object, it is not because I have not the greatest confidence in the Jury's discretion, but simply as a matter of principle.
First Counsel. I do not see how the affair is a matter of principle, but if my learned friend objects I have no wish to push the point further. (Turning to Witness.) And now, where did you meet this person whose name we have arranged to leave undiscovered?
Witness. Perhaps you will allow me to write the locality on a piece of paper and pass it round?
The Judge. I think we may do that.
First Counsel. As your Lordship pleases. (Course suggested pursued.) And now, have you ever seen any one else on the subject?
Witness. Certainly. (Produces a scroll.) Here is a list. I have purposely written their names in shorthand, so that they may only be recognised by those who have a knowledge of Pitman's method.
The Judge. Certainly.
First Counsel. And that, my Lord, is my case.
[Sits down.
The Judge. And now, Gentlemen, before we proceed further, I would like to make a suggestion. When we commenced this trial we arranged that the names of the Plaintiff and Defendant should not be made public. Since then it seems to me that we should learn them. What do you say, Gentlemen?
Foreman of the Jury. We share your Lordship's curiosity.
The Judge (addressing Counsel). You hear.
First Counsel (after consultation with his opponent). My Lord, I need scarcely say that both my friend and myself are most anxious to meet the wishes of your Lordship. But as this is a point of great importance to our clients, we should like to have an opportunity of consulting them. No doubt the names asked for might only have a limited circulation—be known only to your Lordship and the Gentlemen of the Jury. Still there are objections to even so partial a publication as I have shadowed forth which make it most desirable that we should have an opportunity of giving the matter our fullest consideration. Perhaps we might adjourn until to-morrow morning?
The Judge. Oh, certainly, certainly.
[Court consequently adjourns to meet the necessities of the situation.
Motto for the Vineyard Proprietors in a certain Champagne District.—"Make Ay while the sun shines."

THE OLD CRUSADERS!
THE DUKE OF ARG-LL AND MR. GL-DST-NE "BROTHERS IN ARMS" AGAIN!
BULGARIA, 1876. ARMENIA, 1895.
NEURALGIA.
What do I care if sunny Spring
Come now at last with balmy weather?
What do I care for anything?
I hate existence altogether.
It makes me almost mad, in truth,
This awful aching in my tooth.
What do I care for wealth or fame,
Or woman's charms the most entrancing?
Despised or loved, it's all the same.
You would not catch me even glancing
At any face you ever saw;
I'm only thinking of my jaw.
What do I care if Trunks are low,
Argentines flat, Home Rails neglected?
Though mines may come and mines may go,
I'm indescribably dejected.
They may be, I am, "dull" and "weak."
Confound my throbbing, swollen cheek!
What do I care which party's in,
To take more pennies from my income,
Or, if from tax on beer or gin,
Or milk and water extra "tin" come?
My thoughts are "in another place";
This aching spreads throughout my face.
What do I care for any play,
For dance or dinner, song or supper?
With pangs like these I can't be gay.
They spread from lower jaw to upper,
Across my face, as I have said,
And now attack my hapless head.
What do I even care if She
May frown upon her wretched lover,
And like another more than me?
Such pangs I might in time recover.
I do not care, I do not know;
I'm aching now from top to toe.
Mr. Rudyard Kipling has written another Barrack-room Ballad (see Pall Mall Gazette of Thursday last). It is called The Men that fought at Minden, and is perhaps the most coarse and unattractive specimen of verse that this great young man has put forth yet—a jumble of words without a trace of swing or music. All this Tommy Atkins business, with its "Rookies" and its "Johnny Raws," and its affectation of intimate knowledge of the common soldier's inmost feelings, is about played out, and the interest in it is not likely to be revived by such jargon as The Men that fought at Minden. Besides, didn't Lord George Sackville fight(?) at Minden?
Explained at last.—The (Zoo-) logical excuse given for the boa-constrictor when he swallowed his companion, was that "he only wanted a snack for


