"CONTRIBUTIONS THANKFULLY RECEIVED." Lardy-Dardy Swell (who is uncertain as to the age of Ingénue he is addressing). "YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE A BALL. WILL YOU PERMIT ME TO SEND YOU A BOUQUET? AND IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE YOU WOULD LIKE?" Ingénue. "O, THANKS! THE BOUQUET WOULD BE DELIGHTFUL! AND"-hesitating, then after some consideration)-"I'M SURE MAMMA WOULD LIKE THE ICES AND SPONGE CAKES!" THE TALE OF TWO TELEGRAMS. ANOTHER DOLLY DIALOGUE. (By St. Anthony Hope Carter.) THE redeeming feature of the morning batch of letters was a short note from Lady MICKLEHAM. Her ladyship (and ARCHIE) had come back to town, and the note was to say that I might call, in fact that I was to call, that afternoon. It so happened that I had two engagements, which seemed to make that impossible, but I spent a shilling in telegrams, and at 4.30 (the hour DOLLY had named) was duly ringing at the Mickleham town mansion. "I'm delighted you were able to come," was DOLLY's greeting, "I wasn't able," I said; "but I've no doubt that what I said in the two telegrams which brought me here will be put down to your account." twenty or so 'Dolly Dialogues.'" (The dimples at this period were writer at some address in Chancery Lane. Then "I hope," I observed rather icily, "that you "You don't mean that." "Perhaps not. But if we are to have a Dialogue, perhaps we might begin. I have an engagement at six." "Telegraph, and put the contents down to my account." I noticed now that DOLLY had a pile of papers on her table, and that she was playing with a blue pencil. "Yes, Lady MICKLEHAM," I said, in the provisional way in which judges indicate to counsel that they are ready to proceed. "Well, I've been reading some of the Press Notices of the Dialogues, Mr. CARTER." I trembled. I remembered some of the things that had been said about DOLLY and myself, which hardly lent themselves, it appeared to me, to this third party procedure. 66 "I thought," pursued DOLLY, we might spend the time in discussing the critics." "I shall be delighted, if in doing that we shall dismiss the reporter." 76 Have you seen this? It's from a Scotch paper-Scottish? you suggest-well, Scottish. The sketches are both lively and elegant, and their lightness is just what people want in the warm weather.' "It's a satisfaction to think that even our little breezes are a source of cool comfort to our fellow-creatures." "Here's another criticism. 'It's a book which tempts the reader- 999 66 666 It must have been something you said." end when once he picks it up.' "Read at a Sitting: A Study in Colour."" 64 'Please, Mr. BROWN, don't take that down." "Thank you, Lady MICKLEHAM," said I." Litera scripta manet." "You are not the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr. CARTER, and You must break yourself of the habit." "The next cutting?" "The next says, 'For Mr. CARTER, the hero or reporter "It's a calumny. I don't know a single shorthand symbol." "Let me go on. Reporter of these polite conversations, we confess we have no particular liking."" "If you assure me you did not write this yourself, Lady MICKLEHAM, I care not who did." "That, Mr. BROWN," said DOLLY, in a most becoming frown, "must on no account go down." "When you have finished intimidating the Press, perhaps you will finish the extract." His cynicism,' ,"" she read, "is too strained to commend him to ordinary mortals"No one would ever accuse you of being in that category." -but his wit is undeniable, and his impudence delicious.' Well, Mr. CARTER?" 666 "I should like the extract concluded." I knew the next sentence commenced-"As for DOLLY, Lady MICKLEHAM, she outdoes all the revolted daughters of feminine fiction." Then an annoying thing happened. ARCHIE's voice was heard, saying, DOLLY, haven't you finished that Dialogue yet? We ought to dress for dinner. It'll take us an hour to drive there." So it had been all arrang d, and ARCHIE knew for what I had been summoned. "No one expects truth in a telegram. The Post-Office people themselves wouldn't like it." DOLLY was certainly looking at her very best. Her dimples (everybody has heard of DOLLY'S Dimples-or is it DOLLY DIMPLE; but after all it doesn't matter) were as delightful as ever. I was Yet there are compensations. DOLLY sent the Dialogue to the only just hesitating as to my next move in the Dialogue, which I badly paper which I happen to edit. I regretfully declined it. But the wanted, for I had promised my editor one by the middle of next fact that she sent it may possibly explain why I have found it so week. The choice lay between the dimples and a remark that life easy to give this account of what happened on that afternoon when was, after all, only one prolonged telegram. Just at that moment II sent the two telegrams. noticed for the first time that we were not alone. Experienced Jock (during preliminary canter, to Stable-boy, who has been put up to make the running for him). "Now, YOUNG 'UN, AS SOON AS WE'RE OFF, YOU GO TO WORK AND MAKE THE PACE A HOT 'UN !" Stable-boy (Irish). "BEGORRA THIN OI 'M THINKIN' IT'S MESELF ROIDES THE RACE, AND YOU POCKETS ALL THE CREDIT O' WINNIN'!" "ROOM FOR A BIG ONE!" ["Mr. HERBERT GLADSTONE, as First Commissioner of Works, informed the House that no series of historical personages could be complete without the inclusion of CROMWELL,' and though he had no sum at his disposal for defraying the cost of a statue this year, Sir WILLIAM HARCOURT, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, had promised to make the necessary provision in the Estimates for next year."-Spectator.] ROOM for the Regicide amongst our Kings? Horrible thought, to set some bosoms fluttering! The whirligig of time does bring some things To set the very Muse of History muttering. Well may the brewer's son, uncouth and rude, Murmur-in scorn-"I hope I don't intrude!" Room, between CHARLES the fair and unveracious, Martyr and liar, made comely by VANDYKE,And CHARLES the hireling, callous and salacious? Strange for the sturdy Huntingdonian tyke To stand between Court spaniel and sleek hound! Surely that whirligig hath run full round! Exhumed, cast out!-among our Kings set high! (Which were the true dishonour NOLL" might question.) The sleek false STUARTS well might shrug and sigh Make room for him? A monstrous, mad suggestion! O Right Divine, most picturesque quaint As for the Commons-both with the Rad 'Rump' And ToryTail' alike he might deal tartly. He'd have small mercy upon prig or pump; I wonder what he 'd think of B-WL-S and B-RTL-Y? Depend upon it, NOLL would purge the place Of much beside Sir HARRY and the Mace." Your Majesties make room there for a Man! A change from the next Session may be dating. You tell us, genial HERBERT GLADSTONE, that you May find the funds, next year, for CROMWELL'S Statue! Room for a Big One! Well the STUART pair May gaze on that stout shape as on a spectre. Subject for England's sculptors it is rare To find like that of England's Great Protector; And he with bigot folly is imbued, Who deems that CROMWELL'S Statute can intrude! "OH, YOU WICKED STORY!" (Cry of the Cockney Street Child.) SPEAKING of our Neo-Neurotic and "Personal" Novelists, JAMES PAYN says: "None of the authors of these works are storytellers." No, not in his own honest, wholesome, stirring sense, certainly. But, like other naughty-and nasty-minded-children, they "tell stories" in their own way; "great big stories," too, and "tales out of school" into the bargain. Having, like the Needy Knife-grinder, no story (in the true sense) to tell, they tell-well, let us say, tara-diddles! Truth is stranger than even their fiction, but it is not always so "smart" or so "risky" as a loose, long-winded, flippant, cynical and personal literary "lie which is half a truth," in three sloppy, slangy, but "smart"—oh, yes, decidedly "smart"-volumes! LYRE AND LANCET. (A Story in Scenes.) PART IX. THE MAUVAIS QUART D'HEURE. SCENE XVI.-The Chinese Drawing Room at Wyvern. TIME-7.50. Lady CULVERIN is alone, glancing over a written list. Lady Cantire (entering). Down already, ALBINIA? I thought if I made haste I should get a quiet chat with you before anybody else came in. What is that paper? Oh, the list of couples for RUPERT. May I see? (As Lady CULVERIN surrenders it.) My dear, you're not going to inflict that mincing little PILLINER boy on poor MAISIE! That really won't do. At least let her have somebody she's used to. Why not Captain THICKNESSE? He's an old friend, and she's not seen him for months. I must alter that, if you've no objection. (She does.) And then you've given my poor Poet to that SPELWANE girl! Now, why? Lady Culverin. I thought she wouldn't mind putting up with him just for one evening, Lady Cant. Wouldn't mind! Putting up with him! And is that how you speak of a celebrity when you are so fortunate as to have one to entertain? Really, ALBINIA! Lady Culv. But, my dear ROHESIA, you must allow that, whatever his talents may be, he is not-well, not quite one of Us. Now, is he? Lady Cant. (blandly). My dear, I never heard he had any connection with the manufacture of chemical manures, in which your worthy Papa so greatly distinguished himself-if that is what you mean. Lady Culv. (with some increase of colour). That is not what I meant, ROHESIA as you know perfectly well. And I do say that this Mr. SPURRELL'S manner is most objectionable; when he's not obsequious, he 's horribly familiar! Lady Cant. (sharply). I have not observed it. He strikes me as well enough-for that class of person. And it is intellect, soul, all that kind of thing that I value. I look below the surface, and I find a great deal that is very original and charming in this young man. And surely, my dear, if I find myself able to associate with him, you need not be so fastidious! I consider him my protégé, and I won't have him slighted. He is far too good for VIVIEN SPELWANE! Lady Culv. (with just a suspicion of malice). Perhaps, ROHESIA, you would like him to take you in? Lady Cant. That, of course, is quite out of the question. I see you have given me the Bishop-he's a poor, dry stick of a man-never forgets he was the Headmaster of Swisham-but he's always glad to meet me. I freshen him up so. Lady Cant. (with even more bonhomie). Don't be too sure of that, Bishop. I've several crows to pluck with you, and we are to go in to dinner together, you know! merited! The Bishop. Indeed? I had no conception that such a pleasure was in store for me! (To himself.) This must be the penance for breaking my rule of never dining out on Saturday! Severe but Lady Cant. I wonder, Bishop, if you have seen this wonderful volume of poetry that everyone is talking about-Andromeda? The Bishop (conscientiously). I chanced only this morning, by way of momentary relaxation, to take up a journal containing a notice of that work, with copious extracts. The impression left on my mind was-ah-unfavourable; a certain talent, no doubt, some felicity of expression, but a noticeable lack of the ah-reticence, the discipline, the the scholarly touch which a training at one of "I'd rather a job to get these things on; but they're really a wonderful fit, considering!" Lady Cule. I really don't know whom I can give Mr. SPURRELL, There's RHODA COKAYNE, but she's not poetical, and she'll get on much better with ARCHIE BEARPARK. Oh, I forgot Mrs. BROOKE-CHATTERIS-she's sure to talk, at all events. Lady Cant. (as she corrects the list). A lively, agreeable womanshe'll amuse him. Now you can give RUPERT the list. our great Public Schools (I forbear to particularise), and at a University, can alone impart. I was also pained to observe a crude discontent with the existing Social System a system which, if not absolutely perfect, cannot be upset or even modified without the gravest danger. But I was still more distressed to note in several passages a decided taint of the morbid sensuousness which renders so much of our modern literature sickly and unwhole some. Lady Cant. All prejudice, my dear Bishop; why, you haven't even read the book! However, the author is staying here now, and I feel convinced that if you only knew him, you'd alter your opinion. Such an unassuming, inoffensive creature! There, he's just come in. I'll call him over here.... Goodness, why does he shuffle along in that way! Spurrell (meeting Sir RUPERT). Hope I've kept nobody waiting for me, Sir RUPERT. (Confidentially.) I'd rather a job to get these things on; but they're really a wonderful fit, considering! [He passes on, leaving his host speechless. Lady Cant. That's right, Mr. SPURRELL. Come here, and let me present you to the Bishop of BIRCHESTER. The Bishop has just been telling me he considers your Andromeda sickly, or unhealthy, or something. I'm sure you'll be able to convince him it's nothing of the sort. [She leaves him with the Bishop, who is visibly annoyed. Spurr. (to himself, overawed). Oh, Lor! Wish I knew the right way to talk to a Bishop. Can't call him nothing-so doosid familiar. (Aloud.) Andromeda sickly, your (tentatively) -your Right Reverence ? Not a bit of it-sound as a roach! The Bishop. If I had thought my -ah-criticisms were to be repeatedI might say misrepresented, as the Countess has thought proper to do, Mr. SPURRELL, I should not have ventured to make them. At the same time, you must be conscious yourself, I think, of certain blemishes which would justify the terms I employed. Spurr. I never saw any in Andromeda myself, your your Holi [Sir RUPERT and various members of the house-party appear oneness. You're the first to find a fault in her. I don't say there by one; Lord and Lady LULLINGTON, the Bishop of BIR- mayn't be something dicky about the setting and the turn of the tail, CHESTER and Mrs. RODNEY, and Mr. and Mrs. EARWAKER, but that's a trifle. and Mr. SHORTHORN are announced at intervals; salutations, recognitions, and commonplaces are exchanged. Lady Cant. (later to the Bishop, genially). Ah, my dear Dr. RODNEY, you and I haven't met since we had our great battle about-now, was it the necessity of throwing open the Public Schools to the lower classes-for whom of course they were originally intended or was it the failure of the Church to reach the Working Man? I really forget. The Bishop (who has a holy horror of the Countess). I-ah-fear I cannot charge my memory so precisely, my dear Lady CANTIRE. We-ah-differ unfortunately on so many subjects. I trust, however, we may-ah-agree to suspend hostilities on this occasion ? The Bishop. I did not refer to the setting of the tale, and the portions I object to are scarcely trifles. But pardon me if I prefer to end a discussion that is somewhat unprofitable. (To himself, as he turns on his heel.) A most arrogant, self-satisfied, and conceited young man--a truly lamentable product of this half-educated age! Spurr. (to himself). Well, he may be a dab at dogmas-he don't know much about dogs. Drummy's got a constitution worth a dozen of his! Lady Culv. (approaching him). Oh, Mr. SPURRELL, Lord LULLINGTON wishes to know you. If you will come with me. (To herself, as she leads him up to Lord L.) I do wish ROHESIA wouldn't force me to do this sort of thing! [She presents him. Lord Lullington (to himself). I suppose I ought to know all about his novel, or whatever it is he's done. (Aloud, with courtliness.) Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. SPURRELL; you've-ahdelighted the world by your Andromeda. When are we to look for your next production? Soon, I hope. a Spurr. (to himself. He's after a pup now! Never met such doggy lot in my life! (Aloud.) Er-well, my lord, I've promised so many as it is, that I hardly see my way toLord Lull. (paternally). Take my advice, my dear young man, leave yourself as free as possible. Expect you to give us your best, you know. [He turns to continue a conversation, Spurr. (to himself). Give it! He won't get it under a five-pound note, I can tell him. (He makes his way to Miss SPELWANE.) I say, what do you think the old Bishop's been up to? Pitching into Andromeda like the very dooce-says she's sickly! Miss Spelwane (to herself). He brings his literary disappointments to me, not MAISIE! (Aloud, with the sweetest sympathy.) How dreadfully unjust! Oh, I've dropped my fan-no, pray don't trouble; I can pick it up. My arms are so long, you know-like a kangaroo's-no, what is that animal which has such long arms? You're so clever, you ought to know! Spurr. I suppose you mean a gorilla? Miss Spelio. How crushing of you! But you must go away now, or else you'll find nothing to say to me at dinner you take me in, you know. I hope you feel privileged. I feel- But if I told you, I might make you too conceited! Spurr. Oh, no, you wouldn't. [Sir RUPERT approaches with Mr. SHORTHORN. Sir Rupert. VIVIEN, my dear, let me introduce Mr. SHORTHORNMiss SPELWANE. (To SPURRELL.) Let me see-ha-yes, you take in Mrs. CHATTERIS. Don't know her? Come this way, and I'll find her for you. [He marches SPURRELL off. Mr. Shorthorn (to Miss SPELWANE). Good thing getting this rain at last; a little more of this dry weather and we should have had no grass to speak of! Miss Spelw. (who has not quite recovered from her disappointment). And now you will have some grass to speak of? How fortunate! Spurr. (as dinner is announced, to Lady MAISIE). I say, Lady MAISIE, I've just been told I've got to take in a married lady. I don't know what to talk to her about. I should feel a lot more at home with you. Couldn't we manage it somehow ? Lady Maisie (to herself). What a fearful suggestion-but I simply daren't snub him! (Aloud.) I'm afraid, Mr. SPURRELL, we must both put up with the partners we have; most distressing, isn't it-but! [She gives a little shrug. Captain Thicknesse (immediately behind her, to himself). Gad, that's pleasant! I knew I'd better have gone to Aldershot! (Aloud.) I've been told off to take you in, Lady MAISIE, not my fault, don't you know. (To Lady Maisie. There's no need to be so apologetic about it. herself.) Oh, I hope he didn't hear what I said to that wretch. Capt. Thick. Well, I rather thought there might be, perhaps. Lady Maisie (to herself). He did hear it. If he's going to be so stupid as to misunderstand, I'm sure I shan't explain. [They take their place in the procession to the Dining Hall. QUEER QUERIES.-A QUESTION OF TERMS.-I am sometimes allowed, by the kindness of a warder, to see a newspaper, and I have just read that some scientific cove says that man's natural life is 105 years. Now is this true? I want to know, because I am in here for what the Judge called "the term of my natural life," and, if it is to last for 105 years, I consider I have been badly swindled. I say it quite respectfully, and I hope the Governor will allow the expression to pass. Please direct answers to Her Majesty's Prison, Princetown, Devon.-No. 67. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOLUME I.-Awakening. AND so the work was done. BELINDA, after a year's hard writing, had grown by degrees into its present proportions. First the initial had completed her self-appointed task. Douglas the Doomed One volume was completed; then the second ready for the printer's hands. But who was finished; and now the third was should have it? Ah, there was the rub! BELINDA knew no publishers and had no influence. How could she get anyone to take the novel up? And yet, if she was to believe the Author, there According to that interesting periodical was plenty of room for untried talent. publishers were constantly on the lookshould she not try the firm of Messrs. out for undiscovered genius. Why BINDING AND PRINT? She made up her mind. She set her face hard, and muttered, "Yes, they shall do it! Douglas the Doomed PRINT!" And when BELINDA made up her mind to do anything, One shall appear with the assistance of Messrs. BINDING AND not wild omnibus-horses would turn her from her purpose. VOLUME II.-Wide Awake. Messrs. BINDING AND PRINT had received their visitor with courtesy. They did not require to read Douglas the Doomed One. They had discovered that it was sufficiently long to make the regulation three volumes. That was all that was necessary. They would accept it. They would be happy to publish it. 66 And about terms?" murmured BELINDA. "Half profits," returned Mr. BINDING, with animation. "When we have paid for the outlay we shall divide the residue," cried Mr. PRINT. "And do you think I shall soon get a cheque?" asked the anxious authoress. "Well, that is a question not easy to answer. You see, we usually spend any money we make in advertising. It does the work good in the long run, although at first it rather checks the profits." BELINDA was satisfied, and took her departure. "We must advertise Douglas the Doomed One in the Skatemaker's Quarterly Magazine," said Mr. BINDER. "And in the Crossing Sweeper's Annual," replied Mr. PRINT. Then the two partners smiled at one another knowingly. They laughed as they remembered that of both the periodicals they had mentioned they were the proprietors. And you have no friends, no relatives ?" "No. My only visitor was the man who brought that box of books from a metropolitan library." 66 A box of books!" exclaimed the the Doctor. "There may yet be time to save his life!" The man of science rose abruptly, and approaching the casket containing the current literature of the day, roughly forced it open. He hurriedly inspected its contents. He turned over the volumes impatiently until he reached a set. "The very thing!" he murmured. "If I can but get him to read this he will be saved." Then turning to his patient he continued, "You should peruse this novel. It is one that I recommend in cases such as yours. "How "I am afraid I am past reading," returned the invalid. ever, I will do my best." An hour later the Doctor (who had had to make some calls) returned and found that his patient was sleeping peacefully. The first volume of Douglas the Doomed One had the desired result. 66 Excellent, excellent," murmured the medico. "It had the same effect upon another of my patients. The crisis is over! He will now recover like the other. Insomnia has been conquered for the second time by Douglas the Doomed One, and who now shall say that the three-volume novel of the amateur is not a means of spreading civilisation? It must be a mine of wealth to somebody." And Messrs. BINDING AND PRINT, had they heard the Doctor's remark, would have agreed with him! All the Difference. "THE SPEAKER then called Mr. LITTLE to order." |