



Produced by Lesley Halamek, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net





PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

VOLUME 98, JUNE 28TH 1890

_edited by Sir Francis Burnand_




MODERN TYPES.

(_By Mr. Punch's own Type Writer._)

NO. XIV.--THE LADY FROM CLOUDLAND.

[Illustration]

AT intervals of a few years the torpor of London Society is stirred by
the carefully disseminated intelligence that a new planet has begun to
twinkle in the firmament of fashion, and the telescopes of all those
who are in search of novelty are immediately directed to the spot.
Partially dropping metaphor, it may be stated that a hitherto unknown
lady emerges, like the planet, from a cloud under which, as the
envious afterwards declare, the greater part of her previous existence
has been spent. But Society, under the influence of boredom, is
tolerant of new sensations and of those who seek to provide them.
Those who guard its portals are, in these latter days, bidden not
to be over-curious in the inquiries they make of applicants for
admission, and eventually it may come to pass that the approaches
and avenues are opened as readily to one who comes trailing clouds of
obscurity, as to her who shines with the steady lustre of acknowledged
position.

The Lady from Cloudland soars into the ken of fashion in various
places. Very often she is found for the first time in the little
mock temple which pious worshippers at the shrine of rank build for
themselves on the Riviera. They have their ceremonial closely copied
from the London model. They dance, they receive, they organise
bazaars. They launch out into tea-parties, and grow warm over the
discussion of scandals. They elect unto themselves leaders, and
bow their foreheads to the dust before the golden splendour of an
occasional scion of Royalty; in short, they cling as closely as
foreign skies and foreign associations permit to the observances which
have made English Society pre-eminent in its own respect, and in the
good-natured ridicule of less-favoured nations. But since the majority
of them have come in search of health, they cannot despise or reject
one who qualifies for consideration and interest by suffering,
and who, to the piquancy of an unknown origin, adds the high
recommendation of good looks--which are not too good--of a cheerful
temper, and an easy tact, which can only come of much knowledge of
many worlds. Such a one is the Lady from Cloudland. Many are the
questions asked about her, and even more various are the answers
given. "My dear," one lady will say to another, at the house of a
common friend, where the Lady from Cloudland has become the centre of
a throng of admirers, "I hear, on the very best authority, that her
mother used to sell flowers in the City, and that she herself was for
some years a Circus Rider in America. Whenever I meet her I feel a
dreadful inclination to say _Houp-la!_, instead of, How do you do?" To
which her friend will reply that she, on her side, has been informed
that the lady in question was formerly attached to the conjugal tribe
of an Indian Rajah, and was rescued by a Russian, whom she shortly
afterwards poisoned. They will then both invite her to their next
entertainments, asking her by no means to forget those delightful
Burmese love-ditties which only she can sing as they ought to be sung.

The Lady from Cloudland, however, does not limit her ambition to the
hybrid Society of the South of France. She intends to make for herself
a position in London, the Mecca of the aspirant, and she proposes
to use those who thus console themselves with spitefulness as
stepping-stones for the attainment of her object. At the beginning of
the following London Season Society will learn, by means of the usual
paragraphs, that "Mrs. So-and-So, whose afternoon party last year
in honour of Prince ---- was one of the most brilliant successes of a
brilliant Riviera Season, has taken the house in May Fair, formerly
occupied by Lord CLANRACKET." The reiteration of this news in many
journals will set tongues wagging in London. Again the same questions
will be asked, and different answers will be returned. In due
course she arrives, she receives and is received, and she conquers.
Henceforward her parties become one of the features of the Season.
In rooms arranged tastefully in an Oriental style, with curtains,
hangings, delicately worked embroideries, woven mats of charming
design and tropical plants, she welcomes the throng who come at her
invitation. She moves by degrees. Contenting herself at first with a
small _charge d'affaires_ or a Corean plenipotentiary, she soon
rises to a fully fledged Ambassador and a bevy of secretaries and
_attaches_. Her triumph culminates when she secures a deposed monarch
and his consort. She is clever, and knows well that those whom she
seeks to entice will overlook their own ignorance with regard to her
if only they can be certain of being amused and interested in her
house. She, therefore, contrives, without transgressing the higher
_convenances_, to banish all ceremonial stiffness from her parties,
and to import in its place an atmosphere of cheerful gaiety and
musical refinement. For, whatever she may have once been, there can
be no doubt that when London makes her acquaintance she possesses, not
only charming manners, but innumerable accomplishments which are as
salt to the jaded palate of Society people. Thus she progresses from
season to season, and from success to success.

In her second year she becomes a favoured guest in many country
houses, where an effort is made to relieve the tedium of daily
shooting parties by nightly frivolities. Soon afterwards she is
presented at Court, and becomes herself a patroness to many foreigners
who desire by the exercise of their talents to make a precarious
living in England. By these she is considered to be one of the suns
from which the great world draws its light and warmth. In her third
Season she is sufficiently secure to introduce into Society her
daughter, aged eighteen, who has hitherto (so she will inform her
friends) been receiving a good education abroad. Accompanied by "my
little girl," she may be seen, on fine afternoons, reclining in her
spick and span Victoria, in the midst of the crowd in the Ladies'
Mile. She is thus hedged round with a respectability which not even
indiscreet inquiries after her late husband (for it is understood that
he died and left her in comfort many years before) can disturb. She
permits herself occasionally, it is true, to join _chic_ parties at
fashionable restaurants, but these, since they are often under titled
patronage, can scarcely be considered serious lapses from propriety.
After having herself presented her daughter at Court, and having given
(in London) a party which was attended by Royalty, she is beyond the
reach of cavil or reproach. Here and there a jealous and disappointed
social rival may still mutter dark hints about ancient vagaries, and
meaning looks may still be exchanged by male and female gossips,
but for the great mass of those who frequent Society she is as
irreproachable as though her ancestry for twenty generations had been
set down in the pages of _Burke_ or _Debrett_. Eventually she marries
her daughter to the younger son of an Earl, and having made of the
marriage festivities _the_ great social function of the Season, she
herself soon afterwards retires to some extent from the business of
Society, and devotes herself chiefly to the cultivation of simple
pleasures and hot-house flowers in a luxurious retreat on the banks of
the Thames.

       *       *       *       *       *

MR. PUNCH'S DICTIONARY OF PHRASES.

SOCIAL.

"_Haven't missed a word you said_;" _i.e._, "Gracious! where was she?"

"_Not exactly pretty, perhaps, but so nice_;" _i.e._, "As pappy in
character as she is plain in face."

RAILROAD AMENITIES.

"_No, thanks; reading in a railway carriage always tries my poor eyes
so_;" _i.e._, "I've better occupation for them just now."

"_Pardon my drawing the blind; the glare in a railway carriage
always makes my head ache_;" _i.e._, "Shows up my wrinkles and
moustache-dye."

THEATRICAL.

"_She is an intelligent and experienced artist_;" _i.e._, Much too old
for the part.

EFFUSIVE FLATTERY.

"_Thank you so much for your dear little Book of Poems. I haven't read
them yet, but next time we meet I'll tell you what I think of them_;"
_i.e._, "I hereby make a solemn resolution, if I can possibly help it,
never to meet you again in this life."

PERFUNCTORY APOLOGY.

"_I hope I didn't hurt you. I'm sure I beg your pardon_;" _i.e._,
"Stupid fool! Serves you right for sticking out your feet, and
tripping up everybody who happens to stumble on to them."

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: REDUCED TO A SHADOW!--Probable Result of Parliamentary
Pressure.]

       *       *       *       *       *

DIANA AT DINNER.

    [On the first page of the prospectus of the
    recently-established "Dorothy" Restaurant it is stated that
    it is for "Ladies only." On the last page will be found the
    following modification:--"At the request of many of the Lady
    customers, it has been decided to open the Restaurant from
    6.30 P.M. to 10 P.M. to both Ladies and Gentlemen."]

  THERE was started in London, I mustn't say where,
    And, beyond saying lately, I mustn't say when,
  A sweet Restaurant, where the sex that is fair
    Might attend undisturbed by the presence of men.

  "We are forced to endure you in Park and in Row,
    We must bear you unwilling in hansom or 'bus;
  But if any stray _here_, they shall meet with a No,--
    So attempt not the haunt that is sacred to Us.

  "Be warned, O intruder, nor venture to lag
    When the nymphs of Diana the huntress draw nigh.
  Fly, fly from their presence as fleet as a stag.
    Lest you meet with the fate of Actaeon, and die."

  Thus the Ladies addressed us; the tables were set,
    The silver was polished, the viands displayed.
  And, like doves in a dove-cote, the customers met,
    In a plumage of silks and of muslins arrayed.

  "This is sweet!" said AMANDA. "Delightful!" said JANE.
    While the rest in a chorus of "Charming!" combined.
  And, declaring they cared not if dishes were plain,
    So the men remained absent, they solemnly dined.

  And they toyed with their _entrees_, and sipped their Clicquot,
    And their smiles were as sweet as the wine that they drank.
  But at last came a whisper--"Oh dear, this is slow!"
    "Hush, hush!" said the others. "How dreadfully frank!

  "Not slow; but there's something--I scarcely know what,
    An absence, a dulness I cannot define.
  It may be the soup, which was not very hot,
    Or the roast, or the waiting, the ice, or the wine.

  "But I'm sure there's a something." And so they agreed,
    And they formed a Committee to talk of the case.
  And a programme was issued for all men to read,
    Bidding men (on page one) to abstain from the place.

  But, since it is harder to ban than to bless,
    "For their own sakes," they said, "we will humour the men."
  If you turn to the last page, you'll find this P.S.:--
    "Men allowed, by desire, from 6.30 to 10."

       *       *       *       *       *

TRUE NOSTALGIA.

[Illustration: "ULLO! DUBOIS? YOU IN LONDON?"

"OUI, MON AMI. JE SUIS ARRIVE DE PARIS CE MATIN, ET J'Y RETOURNE CE
SOIR PAR LE CLUB-TRAIN!"

"IS THIS THE FIRST TIME YOU'VE COME TO LONDON?"

"NON, MON AMI. MAIS C'EST LA PREMIERE FOIS QUE J'Y RESTE AUSSI
LONG-TEMPS!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

WEEK BY WEEK.

IN the course of last week it was universally remarked that the _beau
monde_ betook itself by the usual methods of conveyance to Ascot.
A very smartly-appointed coach, horsed entirely by blue-black
hippogriffs, attracted much attention. The lunches were of more than
ordinary magnificence, and it was calculated that, during the week,
no less than 5,624,907 bottles of champagne were consumed. The
pigeon-pies were, as usual, composed mostly of beef.

       *       *       *       *       *

One charming toilette was the cynosure of neighbouring eyes in the
Enclosure. It was constructed of four gold _galons_, tastefully
distributed on a blue silk ground intended to represent the Lake of
Geneva. This was fringed with _passementerie_ of the most ancient
design, and picked out with minute red spots arranged in geometrical
figures. The bonnet was composed of a single scrap of antique lace
folded over a threepenny bit.

       *       *       *       *       *

H.R.H. the Grand Duke of KATZENJAMMER, who is making a stay of several
weeks in the Metropolis, in order that he may study free institutions
on the spot, has been, we are informed, busily engaged in writing and
answering letters during the past three days.

       *       *       *       *       *

An interesting story, of which His Royal Highness is the hero, is
going the round of the Clubs. It appears that on his arrival at the
hotel in which he has established himself with his suite, the Grand
Duke, whose absence of mind is well known, forgot to remunerate the
cabman who had driven him. This individual, however, with the rudeness
which is still, we regret to say, characteristic of the lower orders
of our fellow countrymen, made repeated applications for his money,
and eventually threatened to call in a policeman or to take out a
summons. On this becoming known to the Grand Duke, he at once gave
orders that the cabman should be ushered into his presence, and, after
presenting him with a paper gulden, invested him then and there with
the order of the Golden Ball, at the same time exclaiming that honesty
and perseverance in humble life were always worthy of commendation.
The cabman is said to have been much moved. In these democratic days,
such instances of princely condescension are not without value.

       *       *       *       *       *

We are requested by the Earl of C-V-NTR-Y to state that he is sick to
death of the whole business, and has eliminated the word "enclosure"
from every dictionary he has been able to lay his hands on. He had
intended at first to admit nobody, but was overruled, and he cannot,
therefore, hold himself responsible for the presence of various people
who seemed to think that they ought to be treated like unseasonable
strawberries, first forced, then exhibited, and then swallowed.

       *       *       *       *       *

An amusing incident is reported from the remote frontier village of
Pusterwitz in Moldavia. A cobbler who had manufactured the boots of
the Burgomaster ventured to submit his bill for payment. The populace,
infuriated by this insult to their beloved Magistrate, after binding
the offender in calf at the local publishing office, proceeded to
slice him into small pieces with their _schneide-messers_ (the
native knife), to the immense delight of a crowd of peasants from the
surrounding districts. The Burgomaster was much touched by this proof
of popular devotion.

       *       *       *       *       *

GOING TOO FAST.--M. ALEXANDRE JACQUES, who is announced as "a rival to
SUCCI," is at this moment dispensing with food at the Royal Aquarium.
He intends carrying out this self-denying programme for two days
beyond a couple of score--possibly as a proof of his fortitude or (as
a Cockney would pronounce the word) "forty-two'd." The last time this
talented person dispensed with sustenance, was in Edinburgh, when he
did not partake of any meal in the Douglas Hotel for thirty days--a
feat, one would think, that must have been more interesting to the
Medical Profession than the proprietor of the hostelry. However, as
M. JACQUES fought for his country in 1870-71, he should be a most
pleasant guest for the next six weeks or so to dinner-givers with a
taste for economy.

       *       *       *       *       *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

_House of Commons, Monday, June 16._--"This is something like old
times," said TIM HEALY, briskly rubbing his hands. "Poor JOSEPH
GILLIS! pity he didn't live to see this night."

[Illustration: At Bay.]

Very like old times, indeed. Seventy questions on the paper, increased
fourfold by others put arising out of the answer. Practice is for
Irish Members to put question; Prince ARTHUR reads answer from
manuscript supplied from Irish Office; then uprise in succession
half-a-dozen other Irish Members, each asking fresh question. Prince
ARTHUR with one leg crossed over other and hand to chin sits looking
and listening; presently when there is lull, lounges up to table and