CHAPTER I. I held it in my right hand, toying with it curiously, and not without pleasure. It was merely a long, wooden pen-holder, inky and inert to an unappreciative eye, but to me it was a bright magician, skilled in the painting of glowing pictures, a traveller in many climes, a tried and trusted friend, who had led me safely through many strange adventures and much uncouth dialect. "Old... more...

CONFESSIONS OF A DUFFER. V.—THE DUFFER AT CRICKET. To hear my remarks on the Cricket, in the Pavilion, you might think that I had been a great player entirely, in my day. "Who is that fine old English sportsman," you might ask, "who seems to have been so intimate with MYNN, and FULLER PILCH, and CARPENTER, and HAYWARD and TARRANT and JACKSON and C.D. MARSHAM? No doubt we see in him the... more...

BOAT-RACE DAY. The Reader will kindly imagine that he has crossed Hammersmith Bridge, and is being carried along by a jostling stream of sightseers towards Mortlake. The banks are already occupied—although it still wants half an hour to the time fixed for the start—by a triple row of the more patient and prudent spectators. On the left of the path, various more or lessShady Charactershave... more...

"PLEASING THE PIGS!" (From a Private and Confidential Report.) Mr. CHAPLIN received a deputation on the subject of the Swine-fever last week. True to his dramatic instincts as regards the fitness of things, the Minister for Agriculture was, on this occasion, wearing a Sow-wester. He regretted that he was unable to don a pig-tail, which, as the representative of the Fine Old English Gentleman of... more...

JIM'S JOTTINGS. No. II.—RATS'-RENTS, THE RENTERS AND THE RENTED. [In which GINGER JIMMY gives his views of Lazarus, Dives, Dirt, Mother Church, Slum-Freeholders and "Freedom of Contract."] "The Golgotha of Slumland!" That's a phrase as I am told Is made use of by a party,—wich that party must be bold,— In the name of Mister LAZARUS, a good Saint Pancrage gent, Wot... more...

CHAPTER III. Reims—Night—Streets—Arrival—Lion d'Or—Depression—Landlady—Boots—Cathedral—Loneliness—Bed. It is just ten o'clock. Reims seems to be in bed and fast asleep, except for the presence in the streets of a very few persons, official and unofficial, of whom the former are evidently on the alert as to the movements, slouching and uncertain, of the latter. We drive... more...

"'TIS MERRY IN HALL.""Knock'd 'em!""What's in an 'at without an 'ed?" DISTAFFINA DE COCKAIGNE was wont to inquire, and "what's an 'all" (of Music like the London Pavilion) "without a NED" in the shape of Mr. EDWARD SWANBOROUGH, the all-knowing yet ever-green Acting Manager at this place of entertainment, who possessing the... more...

THE WAITERS' STRIKE. (At the Naval Exhibition.) The German Waiter waxeth fat; he grows exceeding proud; He is a shade more kicksome than can fairly be allowed. The British Press goes out to dine—the Teuton, they relate, Throws down his napkin like a gage, and swears he will not wait. Now there are many proverbs—some are good and some are not— But the Teuton was misled who cried, "Strike... more...

WRESTLING WITH WHISTLERS. (A Reminiscence of a Recent Exhibition.) SCENE—The Goupil Gallery. Groups of more or less puzzled Britons discovered, conscientiously endeavouring to do justice to the Collection, having realised that Mr. WHISTLER's work is now considered entitled to serious consideration, but feeling themselves unable to get beyond a timid tolerance. In addition to these, there are... more...

TOWN THOUGHTS FROM THE COUNTRY. (With the usual apologies.) Oh, to be in London now that April's there, And whoever walks in London sees, some morning, in the Square, That the upper thousands have come to Town, To the plane-trees droll in their new bark gown, While the sparrows chirp, and the cats miaow In London—now! And after April, when May follows And the black-coats come and go like... more...