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THE CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST BY HARRY FURNLSS ILl.LSTRAThli VOLUME II TORONTO : WILLIAM BRIGGS 1902 449V49 TORONTO PUBLIC LIBRARIES central library fine art BBAOBIKV, AllSKW, ft i,,, ,.v., fHINTKIU, LONnos AND TOMWUUIK. 7H 5%2 0EC231M5 \_AU rights raetved.] CONTENTS. OIIAITKR Vni. TIIK AUTISTIC JOKE. I— 'a /'/'• CHAPTER IX. CONFE88IOX8 OF A COLt'MDPS. The Cause of my Oruise-No Work-The Atlantic Orevhoun.l-IriHh Shii. -Iri«h M ■ i„ ^ "^ Syren— The Amencun Pi ot— Ronl nnd IiWl— HmI T«n« KS;;„f^jLtSir„^''> -Entertammoat for Shipwrecked .Sail..r.- Amkkica in a huRRY-II«rry Columlxw Purni«« -Tho I,>kv ri.„ui«ti,m-Ki«t iwemn JMight Club Reception ut a I^dicH' rh.b-Th.. Gro.it Pivsidrntial Election-Sound Money ,: Fr«. SiIver-81umland-l)etcctive7)'Vl'ih\.i1y />/,. 26—130 CHAPTER X. AUSTRALIA. *^'"'DelihTm?%^';rfr^'''''T'i^ a ^raUa-An Australian Ouido-lK,ok-A \r 1 V i?P~'^ ^*^ Story— The New Chum-Conimerpial (V,nf,.ssi„n«- Mad Melboun.e-HydropLobiu-Madne«« -A Land iio„m-A V^ Pa,"c- SS^^D^^Wani^"*!" H ''^^t r^^^»t":Tl''«der,.tion_I'atri.k Fran.i. M„™„. pigs i-araoiae !— Types— HeU i ire Jack— The Uoi'se— Tho Wronir Room '. II'. 131— 15;J viii CONTESTS. CHAPTER XI. FLATIOBlf CONFE8SIOX8. Uluebotte— Sir William ir.irr^nJn™ t i? * ''"rt— A Strujrglo with a men-The Ab^nt cSan %^ ^^^^"nl~^^ Lanferniste Go Out-Chair- Tho Ig„o™,rCWa™re8t„ Jf "^^^^^^^^^ to Lecture-I am Oy,^oA^'^'^^'t^i^''^^y^-^^^'^ ^ '^''m^^sa* CHAPTEE XII. MY C0KFESSI0N8 AS A " EEPOBMEE " ''"S^it^-^L^CrcVL^^tt^s^^^^^^^^^ Father :"-Sh1u AtteX M^Lm", S^^L^^^^^J^ Tgeng-'.So That's My Speech-Whrt I Said and ma?^i ^^%~P^ Maurier's Litjle Joke-M^ 4-T.« Trial-Lockw^^ SL'- My lut^Tfe^^^l^Jr ^^^^ «.-"» I^nre of Journalists— Boyal Academy Vnti«^A„ V" *^''"/^ Agam- Ohiect— Mv Ladv Oil— ron«™f,^4 ^ ,, "J""-^"^ Earnest Confession— My The l'n>p^8«l Cquet-Se^ff awr^r^J?*™^^^^ '^^^ Oalleryi " •■ • • ^ 8_wT.„.„, .^I?..'^^'°8"«l~Modeni Inconveniences-lio Women pp. 180—234 Fail in Art ?— Wanted a Wife CHAPTEE XIII. THE CONFEaSIONS OF A DINEH. My FiM City Dinner- A Minnow against the Stream-Those Table Pla,.«_ri. - -rhe City Alderman, Past andl'resent-^Vhistler's I^in„,» nan ^i ^"^ — Lxchungmg Names— Ye Eed T vnn f'l„i v. wC V'^'"P01'8— Odd Volumes Hn^'Yu ^''if^.T^*'* ^^^ "Vocal" Chords' Undertaker-M,«lel Speeches Albert Smitl WTiite Horse-The Wtite Feather-Exit J3 Undertaker— M(«lers^erh'o^Alwf H^^C^^'^^t^ ^Jn^^'Bi^duate" and the '- -The WtTtelWhtr-Eri" 3 '''^"""''"^°"*"^*''*^^^^^^^ le Undergraduate and the """"■-'^"^ »diction— The pp. 233—271 ^ CHAPTEE XIV. THE CONFE88IOX8 OF AN EDITOR -Likn HAURT FtJRNISS's (EGYPTIAN 8TyLE). From " Pl//,/•/^" LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. An Artistic Joko. A London Slu.n. My Pumly of the Venetian S.hool. """ My Studio during the Pn.greH« of " An Artistic Joke " . . ^'^'»^*'^l''''^''■ Harrj- Fumiss's Royal Academy .... " , Thivwing myself into it • * Piro! ■ ^ The Pictnit^H by K. Maclx^th : Potato Gang in the Fens"; Twitch-burning in ^ the Pens ; A Flood in the Fens K Macbeth in the Fens liOttor from the President of the Roval Aciideniv n "An Arti.*tic Joke" . . . '. ' ' " ' " ' . Mr. Sambourne's Prosjiectus _ ' " ' " Cover of " How he did it " . . ' Initial "T" '' _ My Portrait. Frontispiece for " How he did it " . . oi Harry Furniss and his " I^ay Figure " . . . . ,ti Letter from the President of the Eoyal Academy .,, Initial "I" .... " ■** A"T-Tonic" ••....!!!"'■ 2- An Atlantic " Greyhound." • • • . 1 . as The Saloon of the Tt,iU,„!i: The First Morning at JJreakfast . . . ;)() At Queenstown— A Beminiscence 33 Bog-Oak Souvenirs ... o^ • • • .34 LIST OF ILLUSTBATIONS. sing, The Captain's Table . Not up in a Balloon . Chess Mr. Lloyd and the Lady. " If you will The American Pilot— Ideal The American Pilot— Heal The Health Officer comes on Board Just in Time .... ' ' A Floating Flower Show " The Bath Steward and the Bishop. "Your Time Americans and English on Deck American Interviewing— Imaginary American Interviewing— Heal . "Sandy." .... Chiropody. " Xew Trilby." " Amiable Mr. Harry Furniss Major Pond The Great Sarony James B. Brown Fire! .... The Alarm The Throne in the Senate The Throne, House of Bepresentatives Initial "T" The House of Representatives An ex-Speakor . An ex-Minister Anglophobia The l^sident— Ideal The President— Beal . Initial "A" . A Buffalo Girl . President Harrison's Reply Mr. Punch at Niagara Hebe. My Driver Fra' Huddei-sfield Niagara growing upon Me I admire the great Horseshoe Fall Jonathan harnessing Niagara " The Three Sisters." Inclined Railway, Niagara Where Captain Webb was Killed Tourists . . . _ American Travelling. Nothing to Eat American Travelling. Nothing to Drink Sleep (!) . A Washington Lady .... wiU Sir Your Time ! MSI . 36 . 38 . 40 . 42 . 43 . 43 . 45 . 46 . 47 . 48 . 49 . 52 . 53 . 55 . 57 . 58 . 59 . 59 . 61 . 63 . 65 . 67 . 72 . 78 . 74 . 75 77 . 80 . 82 . 83 . 83 . 84 . 84 . 85 , 86 . 86 . 87 . 87 . 88 89 90 91 92 93 9t 96 97 100 108 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIOSS. xi A Lady Interviewer A Sketch at "Ders" 104 Young America .... * Y^, An American Menu .... My Portrait— r« the Future ..." ' ' I am Entertained at the Twelfth Nigiit Club Eeception at a Ladies' Club • . . . . uo 107 108 Wife and Iluxband A Dream of the White House ....'" The Political Quartette ^hIus ' ^'"'* ^*"^' :" Am i to sit on an oniinary seat to-night \ ' Where the Deed was done I . . " A Youth with a Crutch " ...''" In an Opium Joint .... "In His Own Black Art" . . " Hitting the Pipe " . ..." " Good-bye " . . . . Initial "W" •.....['''' Coaling • • . . Quuruutine • . . . Initial"!'" . . " 112 118 114 116 120 123 rw 127 128 128 129 lao 131 132 133 Sleepy Hollow . '** Prospectors .... Quarantine Island .... '*'* I am invited to present myself . ' " " " " '■*,' Landing at Adelaide .... H3 Pondicherry Vultures . . '•••.. U8 The Maid of the Inn . . . '^ The Way into Paradise *f * Paradise '^^ Adam and Eve ATji>e . Queen's Hull, London. " Parliament by Day " " Parliament by Night " Miss Murj' Anderson Initial "By" .....,' Giving My " Humours of I'arliament" to the Nurses Speaker Brand, afterwards Viscount Hampden The Su'T)ri8e Shirt Discoveii'd I , . . . The Ply in the Camera . . . . " ""* Late Anivals .... Beserved Seats .... Chairman No. 1. Chairman No. 2 . . . The Pumpkin-a Chestnut In " The Humours of Parliament." I was the first to speak from the I'liitform lol 1J2 loli lo4 loO 1J7 lo!) 169 102 1.J3 Ballyhooley Pathetic 171 172 174 177 178 181 xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Harry Fumigg as a Pictorial Entertainor . *tVt " Orandolph ad I^nes." Reduction of a Page l>rawing lot Punch made by me whilst travelling bv Train ,„- Down with Dryasdust .' . . . . . Igg From a Photo by Tebenham and Gould .on G. A. Sala. . . ^^ "ArtCritiooiihe Daily Tthgnq,!,'' ' ' \^ Counsel for the Plaintiff ....'. i D^fJdlnt^""" ' ^^^^^ ^ ^^^ WeUmimter, which Sala maintained was mine 2M My Hat" ". ". '. 202 The Plaintiff ......' ^"f The Editor of Vuneh supports me ^^ Sir F. Lockwood and Myself . '^"^ " Six Toes " Signature " . . . ' f"^ The Sequel_I Distribute the Prizes at Nottingham' f^^ Initial "T" .... ^^ The See-Saw Antic ^^ The firet P.R.A. . \ /;■.*'*' "^"^ No Water-Colour or Black-and-Wthite ne^ipply . . . ' ' ' !?! A National Academy ... " 'lie Central Criminal Court. From yVMcA ' • ' i\\ "Thank Y-o-o-u ! " ....'. EegenfsParkasitwas. From P„«c/.. A Bough Sketch on Wood' ' ' 217 Ine Late Mr Bartlett .... . Sketch by Mr. F. C. Gould . . '. ^^ The I^y and Her Snakes ■ . . ^* Do Women fuil in Art— The Chrysalis '. ??? TheLu.terfly •••••.. 228 Early Victorian Art . . . . . \ \ *** Young Lady's Portrait of her Brother ] f ?^ Waiting *^ Initial " P "......"'■■• fff Menu of the Dinner given to me by the Lotos Club, New Yorji ' ' oq? Alderman— Ideal. Real ■ ■ . ieriods of his or her career. I had to discover their mannerisms, their idiosyncrasies and ideas, if they had any, their tricks of brush work, and all the technicalities of their art. Then I designed a picture myself in imitation of each artist. In a very few instances only did I parody an actual work. This fact was generally lost sight of by those who visited the Exhibition. The public imagined that I simply took a certain picture of a particular artist and buriesqued it. 1 did this certainly in the case of Millais' " Ciiderella " and one or two others ; but in the vast majority of the works exhibited, e\'en in Marcus Stone's " Rejected Addresses," which appeared to so many aa if it must have been a direct copy of some picture of his, the idea was entirely evolved out of my own THE ARTISTIC JOKE. imagination. In thinking out tlie various pictures I devoted the gmitest care to accuracy of detail. I was juirticuhir as to the shape of each, and even went so far as to obtain frames in keeping with those used by the diffen-nt artists. Of course it was out of the question for me to do the pictures in colour, which would have required a lifetime, and probably tempted me to break faith with my itlea ; not to mention the fact that I should in that ease most likely have sent the collection to the Academy, of which obtuse botiy, if there is any justice in it, I must then naturally have l>een elected a full-blown member! In order to get the Exhibition finished in time, I often had t<» work far into the night, and on one occasion when I was thus secretly engaged n my 8tudi'> upon these large pictures until the small hours, I remember a catastrophe veiy nearly hap- pened which would have put a finishing touch of a very different kind to that which I intended, not only to the picture, but to the artist himself. It hapjK'ned thus. About three o'clock in the morning, loner after the household had retirc.l to rest, I became eonsci- of a smell of burning. I made a minute search round t... studio, but could not discover the slightest indication of an incipient conflagration. Then a dreadful thought occun-ed to me. Beneath the studio is a vault, access to which is gained by a trap-(loor in the floor. Could it be that the seS-et of my " Artistic Joke " had become common property in the artistic world, and that some vindictive Academician, 1)ent upon pre- ventinor the impending caricature of his chef d\mvre, was even x, like another Guy F.iwk.««, concealed Mow, and in the dead ot night was already commencing his diabolical attemiit to roast me alive in the midst of my caric^atures ? I'p went the yfa <^:;z^ THROWrxa MYSKI.F INTO IT. « CO.YF£.SiiIOSS Of A VAHWATVHlST. trap-door, ond with candio in hand I explored the voult. The result rva» to calm my apprehensions upon this store, for there was no one there. Still mystiiied as to where the smell of fire now distinctly perceptible, came from. I next walked round the' outside of my studio, exciting evident »uspicion in the mind of the H'ceman on his beat. No, there was not a spark to l»e iJeen ; uo keg of gunpowder, no black leather bug, no dynamite, no infernal machine. I returned into he house and went uiwtairs, roused all my family and Hervants, who, after a close examination, returned to their bods, assuring me that all was safe there, and half wondering whether the persistent pursuit of caricaturing does not protluce an enfeebling effect upon the mind. Consoled by their assurances. I re- turned once more to my studio, where the burning smell grew worse a»id worse. However, concluding tliat it was due to some fire in the neigh- bourhood, I settled down to work once more ; but hardly hail I taken my brush in hand when showers of sparks and particles of smouldering Avood l)egan to descend ui»on my head and 8hour,.s, and cover tlie work I was engaged on. I started up, and looking up at my big sunlight, saw to my horror that I had wound up my easel, which is twe ve feet high, and more D.mrly resembles a guillotine than anything else, so far that the top of it was in immediate contact with the gas, and actually alight ! The Times took the unusual course of giving, a mouth in .If"'^''^.,*' T°^"& °" April 23rd, 1887. a preliminaiT notice ot this Lxhibitiou. It said : " A novel Exhibition, for which we venture to FlUK ! THE ARTISTIC JOKK. j prophesy no little buccom, is Wing preparetl l.y Harry Jurniss of Punch .elebrity. Ah everyone known, Mr. Furnii ha8 Jong mlorned the columns of »ur contempmry with pictorial puio<],e9 of the chief pictures of the lloyal Academy, the Grosvenor ^nd other shows, and it has now occurred to 'him to develop this idea and to have a humorous Royal Academy of his own. He has taken the Gainslmrough Gallery in Olti Bond Street, which he will fill some time before the opening of Burlington House with a display of ela1x)rate travesties of the works of all the Wst known artists of the day. Thcic will be seventy pictures in black and white, many of them large size turning into gocl-natured ridicule the works of every iKiinter gootl and bad, whose pictures are familiar to the publi,- " etc etc This gives a very fair idea of the nature and objects of my "Royal Academy." % aim was to burlesque not so much individual works as general style, not so much specifi.. perform- ances as habitual manner. As an example I take the work of that clever decorative painter and etcher. Mr. R. W. Macbeth, A.R.A. By liis permission l here reproduce reductions in black and white of three of his well-known pictures, and side by side I show my parody of his style and composition-not, as you will obserA-e, a caricature of any o,w picttue, but a boiling down of nil into an original picture of my own in which I emphasi.se his mannerisms. Furthermore, in my catalogue I parodied the same artists mannerism in drawing in black and white, and with one or two exceptions this applies to all the works I exhibited I hit upon a new idea for the illustrate.1 catalogue. The illus- trations, with few exceptions, did not convey any idea of the composition of the pictures, and in many cases they wen designed to further the idea and object of the Exhibition by reference to pictures not included therein. My joke was that the Exhibition could not be underst od by anyone without a catalogue, and the catalogue could not be understood by any- one without seeing the Exhibition. Therefore everyone visitin- the Exhibition had to buy a catalogue, and everyone seeiurr the catalogue had to visit tho Exhibition. Q.E.D. ! The idea" the catalogue, and every thii.o ^nnected with this "Artistic Joke " were *gHpC;^- A FLOOD IN THE rtSS. li THK PKTCItKS IIY 11. MACBKTir. nrprtuhm;! h-j j^^rinU-^iun «f the Artist. 75 10 CONFESSIOXS OF A CARICATUHJST. I my own, with the exception of the title, which was so happily supplied by Mr. Humphry Ward as the heading to tl,e pre- liminaiy notice he wrote for the Times. At the last viommt I called in my feUow- worker on Punch, Mr. E. J. Milliken. to assist me with some of the letterpress of the catalogue and write the verses for it I had all but a smaU portion of the catalogue written before he so kindly gave this assistance, but at 'he suggestion of a mutual friend I gave him half the profits of the catalogue, which amounted to several hundred pounds. I am obliged to make this point clear, as to my astonishment it was reported that the whole Exhibition was a joint affair, no doubt originated by Mr. Punch in a few lines : « When two of Mr i-unchs young men put their heads together to produce so excellent a btemry and artistic a joke as that now on view at the Gainsborough Gallery " This was accepted as a matter ot tact by many, not knowing that this "joke," my work of years, was a secret in the Punch circle as outside it. The false impression which Mr. Punch had originated he corrected in his Happy Thought way : " Tlw Artistic Jnhilee Jomdemy in Bond or/-eer— Ihefire insurances on the building will be uncommonlv heavy because there is to be a show of Furnisss constantly goin' T?' /■„ ^ "^* '^" '^ ' ^"™^«« ^^^l'«^ Thoughts ? "• " IJic lolowing brief correspondence passed between the Presi- dent of the Royal Academy and myself:— and tms" helS'i"''' P'«,^«"'^his no.npliments to Sir Frederick Leighton little ExS ';"°/r''' '^^•'^re of Mr. Furniss'. intention to have a htt e Exl„b.t.on .„ Bond Street this spring,-a good-natured parody on the Ro3al^cade.ny. The t.tle settled upon-the only one tha' expla" s it "HARRY FURNISS'S "ROYAL ACADEMY, '"AN ARTISTIC JOKE.'" " In this particular case the authorities (Mr. Furniss is informed) see no etiquette he th.nks it nght to ask the question of Sir Frederick Leighton "March Uth, 1HH7." THE ARTISTIC JOKE. 11 A word or two may not be out of place here on the practical diiiiculties which beset an artist who opens an Exhibition on his own account, and is forced by circumstances to become his own "exploiteur." Men may have worked with a more ambitious object, but certainly no man can ever have worked harder than V I.KTTEll FROM THE PRKSIDENT OF THE HOyAL ACADEMY. I did at this period. Outside work was pouring in, my cuiTent Punch work seemed to bo increasing, but I never allowed "Furniss's Folly" (as some good-natured friend call"d my Exhibition at the moment) to interfere with it. I had only arranged with a " business man " to take the actual •' running " of the show off my hands, and he was to have half the profits if there should happen to be any. At the critical moment, when I 13 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. was working night and day at my easel, when in fact the "murther was out" and the date actually settled fo- the "cracking" of my joke— in short, when I fondly imagined that ell the arrangements were made. I received a letter from my " buHiness " friend backing out of the affair, "as he doubted its success." Half-an-hour after the receipt of this staggerer (I have never had time to reply to it) I was dashing into Bond Street, where I quickly made all arrangements for the hire of a gallery and the necessary ijriutii' engaged an advertising agent and staff, and myself sawalier the thousand and one things indis- pensable to an undertaking of this kind. And all this extraneous worrj' contmued to hamper my studio work until the Exhibition was actually opened. Of course I had to make hurried engage- ments at any price, and consequently bad ones for me. Every householdei- is aware that should ho change his abode he is surrounded in his new home ))y a swarm of local tradespeople and others anxious to get someuiing out of him. Well, my experience upon entering the world of "business," hitherto strange to me, was precisely the same. All sorts of parasites try to fasten themselves on to you. Business houses regard you as an amateur, and consequently you pay dearly for your experience. You are not up to the tricks of the trade, and althoufrh you may not generally be written doAvn an ass, you must in your new vocation pay your footing. It is tlierefore incumbent upon anyone entering the world of trade for the first time to keep his wits very much about him. Tiie local habitation for my Exhibition, which upon the spur of the moment I was fortunate enough to find in Bond Street, was called for - ome inexplicable reason tlie Gainsborough Gallery and thereby hangs a tale. One afternoon there arrivc"l a ^'ener- uble dowager m a gorgeous ciuiary-coloured cliariot, attended by her two colossal footmen. She sailed into the gallery which fortunately for the '..M and scant of breath, was on the ground floor, and slightly raising the pince-nez on her aristocratic nose, looked about her with an air of bewilderment. Th.n going up to luy secretary she .aid, "Surely! tliese are not bv Gainsborouo'li \" •' THE ARTISTIC JOKE. IS "No, madam," was the reply. "This is the Gainsborough Gallery, but the pi -tures are by Harry Furniss." Almost 'linting on the spot, the old lady called for her salts, her stick, and her attendants three, and was rapidly driven away from the scene of her lamentable mistake. The public attendance at the " The Artistic Joke " wai* prodigious from the first. Even upon the private view day, when I introduced a novelty, and instead of uiviting everybody who is somebody to pay a gratuitous visit to the show, raised the entrance fee to half-a-crown, the ftishionable crowd besieged the doors from nu early hour, and made? a very considerable addition to my ircasury. Those of my readers, however, who did not pay a visit to the Gainsborough will bi> better able to realise the amount of patronage we received, notwitstandiug to numerous attractions of the " .Jubilee " London season, if I r> ' an incident which occurred on the Saturday after wo op( It was the "private view" of the Grcsvenor Gallery, and ti.o crowd was immense. Indeed, many ladies and gentluuiLii were returning to their carriages without going through the rooms, not, like my patron the dowager, because they were disappointed at not finding the work of the old masters, but because the visitom were too numerous and the atmosjiiiere too oppressive. As 1 passed through the people 1 heard a lady who was stepping into her carriage say to a friend, "I have just (tome from 'The Artistic; Joke,' and the crowd is even • -n-se there. They have had to elo.se the doors becaux' the ■ of catalogues was exhausted." This soon caused nie to (juick y pace, and . leiiing down the street to my own Exhiltitiou, I found the police standing at the doors and tlie people being turned away. Tlie simple explanation of tills was that so great had been the public demand that the stock of catalogues furnished by the printers was exhausted early in the afternoon, and as it was quite impossible to understand the caricatures without a catalogue, there was no alternative but to close the doors until some more were forthcoming. Findiu" the tclephoMf was no use, I was soon in a hansom bound for the City, intending by hook or by crook to in-ing back with i> the much-nieiled catalogues, or the boily •)f the printer dead or alive. Upon arriving in the City, however, to my '^^^ 14 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. \% clmgnn I found his place of business closed, though the care- taker, with a touch of fiendish malignity, showed me throu-h a wmdow whole piles of mj- non-delivered catalogues. Not to be beaten, I hastened back to the West End and despatched a very long and explicit telegram to the printer at his private house (of course he would not be back in the City until .Monday) requinng him, under pain of various severe penalties, to yield up ray catalogues instanter. As I stood in the post office of Bur'.mgton House anxiously i.enniug this message, i.nd harassed mto a state of almost feverish excitement, the sounds of martial mu-c and the tramp of armed men in the adjacent courtyard fell upon my distracted ear. AVith a sickly and sardonic smile upon my face I laid down the pen and peeped throucrh the door « Yes ! I see it all now," I muttered. « The whofe thing is a plant. 1 he printer \a as bribed, and, L'oi,te que ro,;te, the Academy has decided to take my body! Hence the presence of the military ; and see, those rooks— what are they doin^r here in their white cap^ > My uly ! Ha! then nothing" short of cannibalism is intended ! '' This frightful thought almost precipitated me into the very ranks of the soldiery, when I discovered that the corps was none other than that of tlic Artist A'olunteers, which contains •several of my friends. .Seizing one of those whom I chanced to recognise, I hurriedly whispered in his ear the thoughts of impending butchery which were passing in my terrified"mind. But he only lauglied. " You will disturb their digestions, my dear Furniss, some other way," he said, "than by providiu-r them with a piece ,le resistance. Make your mind easy, for we are only here to do honour to the guests. This is the banmietina night of the Boyal Academy." " From what I heard, some amusiag incidents occurred in the house at my "Koyal Academy." It was no uncommon sight to see the friends and relatives even the sons and daughters, of certain well-known Academicians standing opposite the parody of a pnrticular picture, and iittgcly enjoying it at the expense of the parent or friend who had painted the original. Other R.A's, who went ab..ut pooh- poohing the whole affair, and s lying that thev i.;tendod to 'AN AltTISTIC JOKE. .1 iioitiun of my parotlii of the work of Sir Alma Tadema, It. A. THE ARTISTIC JOKE. 17 ignore it altogether, turned up nevertheless in due time at the Gainsborough, where, it is true, they did not generally remain very long. They had not come to see the Exhibition, but only their own pictures. One glance was usually enough, and then they vanished. The critics (and their friends) of course remained longer. Even Mr. Sala went in one day and seemed to be immensely tickled by what he saw. Strange to relate, however, when ho had passed through about one-third of the show, he was observed to stop abruptly, turn himself round, and flee away incontinently, never to be seen there aguin. I was much puzzled to discover a reason for this remarkable manoeuvre, the more so as at that time I had not wounded his amour propre by indulging in an " Artistic Joke " of much more diminutive proportions at his expense, or, as it subsequently turned out, at my own. Since, however, the world-famous trial of Sala v. Fumiss I have looked carefully over all the pictures in my Royal Academy, with a view to throwing some light upon the critic's abrupt departure. I remain, nevertheless, in the dark, fur the most rigid scrutiny has failed to reveal to me one single feature in the show, not even a Grecian nose, or a foot with six toes, which could have jarred upon the refined taste of the most sensitive of journalists. I shall return to Mr. Sala in another portion of these confessions, but am more concerned now with the parasites, the artistic failures, the common show- men, the traffickers in various wares, and other specimens of more or less impecunious humanity, who applied to me to let them participate in the profits of a success which I had toiled so hard to achieve. In imitation of Barnum, I might have had, if I had been so inclined, a series of side shows, ranging in kind from the big diamond which a well-known firm in Bond Street asked me to let them exhibit, to the " Queen's Bears " and a curious waxwork of a bald old man which by means of electricity showed the gradual alterations of tint produced by the growth of intemperance. One of these api»lications J was for a moment inclined to entertain. It Las more than once been proposed that to enable the British public to take its annual bolus at Burlington House with less nausea, the Royal Academy should introduce a band of some sort, so that under the influerce of its inspiriting C. — VOL. II. c 18 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. IVlKuoy. CATeor/ CoHifANV. /l/iyClMl.TBD) * ;ar strains the masterpieces might be robbed of a little of their tamenea*,, the |)ortTait of .My Lonl Knoshoo might seem less out of place in a public Exhibition, and the insanities of certain demented colourists might be made less obtrusive monopolists of one's attention. Therefore, when "a musical lady and her daughters" applied to me for permis^on to give "Soiree* Musicales " at the Gainsborough, it str-ick me for a moment that it would \v6 effective to forestall the action of the Academy ; but on second thoughts I reflected that as the Bur- lington House band would probably bo of the same quality as the pictures, it would be adhering more closely to the spirit of my "Artistic Joke" if I gave ray patrons a barrel organ or a hurdy- gurdy which should play the "Old Hundredth" by steam. Although one would have thought that a single visit of a few hours' duration would have sufficed to go through a humorous Exhibition of this kind, I found that several people became hubitues of the place, and paid many visits ; but it is of course possible to have too much of a good thing, and a joke loses its point when you have too much of it. No better illustra- tion of this can be afforded than -n the ctuse of my own secretary at the time, who had sat in the Exhibition for many months. One day, when the plates were being prepared for an album which I published as a souvenir of the show, the engraver arrived with a proof. " But therft is some mistake here," said my secretary. " We have no such picture as that on the premises." The engraver was puzzled, and as he seemed rather sceptic-il upon the point, he was allowed to Ipok round, and speedily found the picture he had copied. It had actually been close at my secretary's elbow since the " Artistic Joke " was opened to Bout couiMr MR. SAMBOUKXE'S PnoSPECTUS. THE ARTISTIC JOKE. If the public, but as the pictures wore all uiuler me attraction of the passing hour, must " boom his show for all it's worth," as the Americans soy; so I "boomed" ray "Artistic Joke" with an advertisinj^ joke, and at the same time parodied another branch of art —the art of advertising the artists, by a special number of a magazine devoted to the work of an Academician. The special numliera, generally published at Christmas, are familiar and in- teresting to us all. Still, from any point of view they are fair game. They are of course merely no' critical, eulogistic accounts of , artist and his work. So " How he Did It— The Stonj of my appeared, written by my Lay-figure. Mc Joke,' " duly " PREFACE. •HE fact of my being only an artist's lay- figure will account for any stiffness or angularity in my literary style. Whilst conscious of my deficiencies in this respect, I am comforted by the con- sideration that a lay-figure attempting literature cannot by any possibility perpetrate greater absurdities than are committed by many a ready writer who indulges in those glowing and gushing descriptions of artists and their work which it is now the fashion to publish, in some such shape as the present, for the delectation (and delusion) of a gossip-lovint^ public." ° ° This, the origin of " The Artistic Joke," is a fair specimen THE ARTISTIC JOKE. tl of the iUwunlity I published an nn mlvertiM'iiiont, thoi. i iniiny bought it mid read it as a " true and authentic nicount " of the confessions of a caricaturist's lay-figuiv : " As many wouhl lie interesteil in knowing how this extra- ordinary idea of an Academy jMmr rire first occurred to this artist, I hasten to gratify their natural curiosity. It was before little Harry reached the age of seven, and while watching with fellow- feeling the house- painters at work iu his father's house. One day, at lunch- time, when the men had left their ladders and paraphernalia near the picture- gallerj' (a long room containing choice works of all the great raasttrs), he seized hi3oi)portunity: with herculean strength and Buffalo -Billish agility, our hero dragged all the ladders, paints and brushes into the galley, and soon was at work ' touching up ' the i.ictiires, to gratify his boyish love of mischief. Truth to toll, his perforniauce was but on a par, artistically, with that usually shown when mi.schievous Itoys get hold of 1)rushes and paint and a picture to restore. " Before Harry had finished touching-up the valuable family MY PORTRAIT. FRONTISPIECE FOR 'HOW HE DID IT.' •>2 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. Hum Pnnts't VatA Bcn&cinf. 2Si Old BmJ Sirtti, umeaK, mi XUJtn ertnmm >U/XU^ tf-loZUL UG'-ui^ a^AJSi 4u^li,Jeyp{!^ i. 9fr M^ iry^kU^ a-^ ^4£t(. V J jU^ t>Uy /tL^ THE ARTISTIC JOKE. 23 portraits, his father came in, glanced rourul, ami fell onto a couch in roars of laughter. ' It's the best Artistic Joke I've ever seen, my boy, and here's a shilling for you I' A happy thought struck Harry at the moment. He kept it to himself for over twenty-five years ; and now, standing high upon an allegorical ladder, he repeats the Joke daily, from nine to seven, admission one shilling." This book of sixty pages sold extremely well, and, strange to say, I made more money out of this joking advertisement — the work of a few days — than I did out of my elaborate album of seventy photogravure plates which occupied two years to produce and cost me £2,000. The following lines from Fun give the origin of my Joke's peculiar and ingenious turn : " The fact is the Forty were sad ia their mind (Unfortunate ^codemiciana !) Associates also were troubled in kind, With jeers at their works and positions, Till one who was younger and bolder than all Declared ' doleful dumps ' to be folly, ' Come — away to the club, and for supper let's call, And try to be decently jolly.' " So they fed with good will on the viands prepared (Pork chops were the principal portion), Then retiring to bed, with their dreams they were scared. And spent half the night in contortion ; Then rose in their sleep and came down to this room. And, instead of a purposeless pawing, They painted these pictures, then fled in the gloom. And Furniss has touched up the drawing ! " Having parodied the artists' work, the R.A. catalogue, and the publishers' R.A. special numbers, I went one step further. I parodied " Art Patrons." At that time there was a great stir in art circles in consequence of the authorities of the National Gallery dallying with Mr. Tate's offer of his pictures to the nation; so to emulate him, and Mr. Alexander, and Mr. Watts, and other public benefactors in the world of art, I sent the following letter to the Directors of the National Gallery : " Mr. Harry Furniss presents his compliments to the Trustees of the National Gallery and begs to congratulate them upon the munificent gifts 24 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. lately made to them, particularly Mr. Henry Tate's, which provides the nation with an excellent sample of current art. At the same time Mr. Harry Fumiss feels that having it in his power to provide a more complete collection of our modern English school, he is inspired by the generous offers of others to humbly imitate this good example, and will therefore willingly give his ' Royal Academy ' (parodies on modern painters), better known as ' The Artistic Joke,' which caused such a sensation in 1887, to the National Gallery if the Trustees vdll honour him by accepting the collection." Yet it was not believed, ■■\t least not in A'^i-njen, for the leading paper of the Granite City published the following : " Someone has played a joke on Mr. Harry Fumiss. An announcement appears this morning to the effect that ' animated by the generosity of Mr. Henrj' Tate and other benefactors of the National Gallery, Mr. Harry Fumiss has offered to the Trustees his collection of illustrations of the work of modem artists recently on view in Bond Street,' and that he ' has received a communication to the effect that his offer is under consideration.' I believe no one was more sui-prised by this communication than Mr. Fumiss. He never made the offer except possibly in jest to some Member of ParUament, and naturally he was much surprised to learn that his offer was ' under consideration.' The illustrations in question could scarcely be dispensed with by Mr. Fumiss, as they are to him a sort of stock-in-trade." Not only in Aberdeen but I found generally my seriousness was doubteil, so I reproduce on the opposite page in facsimile the graceful reply of the authorities of our National Gallery : The " Artistic Joke " was never intended as an attack on the Royal Academy at all, as a clear-headed critic wrote : " It would be more just to regard it as an attempt on Mr. Furaiss's part to show the Academicians the possibilities of real beauty, and wonder, and pleasure that lie hidden in their work. ... On the whole, the Royal Academicians have never appeared under more favourable conditions than in this pleasant gallery. Mr. Funuss has shown that the one thing lacking in them is sense of humour, and tliat, if they would not take themselves 30 seriously, they might produce work that would be a joy, and not a weariness to the world. Whether or not they will profit by the lessons it is difficult to say, for dulness has become the basis of respectability, and seriousness the only refuge of the shallow." THE ARTISTIC JOKE. 35 NlcinXAI. titlJ.F.H*, A«y ^"fa ^r, »£■ cr^clw /ioi H*va MtAj &i*e^ /i^t9t^ iSL ^ir**^ ^ 'yi**^t>*t*f /a*r'Cct^) .£f-/i^iAy ^^ <«^Ai ^j a^ &,*r-i*'^t>^^^ • --*«-»^, CHAPTER IX. CONFESSIONS OP A COLUMBUS. The Cause of my Cruise— No Work— The Atlantic Greyhound— Irish Ship — Irisli Doctor— Irish Visitors— Queenstown— A Surprise— Fiddles- Edward Lloyd— Lib— Chess— The Svren— The American Pilot— Real and Ideal— Red Tape— Bribery— Lil)ertv— The Floating Flower Show —The Bouquet— A Bath and a Bishop —" Beastly Healthy"— Entertainment for Shipwrecked S-iloi-s— Passengers— Superstition. America in a Hurry— Harry Coli- jus Furniss— The Inky Inquisition- First Impressions — Trilby — Tempting Offers— Kidnapped— Major Pond— Sarony— Ice— James B. Br -vn- Fire !— An Explanation. Washixoton- Mr. French of Nowhere— f old— Interviewed— The Sporting Editor — Hot Stuff- The Capitol— Congress — House of Representatives —The Page Boys— The Agint— Filibuster— The "Reccard"— A Pandemonium — Interviewing the President. Chicago— The Windy City— Blowers— Niagara— Water and Wood— Dark- ness to Light— My Vis-A- Vis— Mr. Punch— My Driver— It Grows upon Me— Inspiration— Harnessing Niagara— The Three Sisters— IncLne Railway — Captain Webb. Tb.\vellixc> — Tickets — Thirst - Sancho Panza — Proclaimed States— "The Amurrican Gurl" — A Lady Interviewer — The English Girl — A Hair Restorer — Twelfth Night Club Reception at a Ladies' Club — The Great Presidential Election — Sound Money r. Free Silver — Slumland — Detective O'Flaherty. NEVER felt better in my life, but my friends all assured me that I looked ill. If I wasn't ill, I ought to be. I must be overworked and break down. I had ''burnt the candle at both ends and in the middle as well," and it was a duty I owed to humanity to collapse. For years ^B CONFESSIONS OF A COLUMBUS. 27 I had done tlie work of three men with the constitution of one, 30 one day it came to pass that I was forced by my friends into the consulting-room of a celebrated physician, labelled " 111. To be returned to Dead Letter Office, or to be sent by foreign mail to some distant land, or to be cremated on the spot," anything but to leave me free to return to my mad disease, the worst mania of all — the mania for work. My good physician stripped me, pommelled me, stethoscoped me, made me say " 9!) " when he had squeezed all the breath out of me (why " 99 " ? Why not " 98 " or " 4 " ?— he was testing internal rebellion), flashed a reflector under my eyes, se'zed a drumstick and hammered me under my knee-joints, sat upon me literally and figuratively, and told mc to give up all food, drink, pleasure, and work for two months, which I did. My balance at thd bankers' and my balance on the scales were both reduced considerably. I lost a good many pounds in weight and money. My friends all assured me that I looked well, but I never felt so ill in all my life. If I was not ill, I ought to be. I tried to work, but broke down. I was ^llBli.^ ^^-. \ ^~^i^ idle in the morn- ings, in the evenings, and in the middle of the day as well, and it was a duty i owed to ray doctor to col- lapse. So one day I forced myself into his consulting-room before a hundred patients waiting their turn, labelled " Well again." I pushed him into his chair, pommelled him 99 times, flashed my cane under his eyes, seized the poker and hammered him under his knee-joints, and told him I would get him six months' hard labour if he did not pronounce me sound, — he did. " You only want a tonic n. ./, my dear fellow — a sea-trip ! " 28 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. "A Teutonic;' I replied Majestically. "The very tliiug— sails to-morrow— a new berth— I'll be born again under a White Star— a« rer,,ir !" " Your prescription ! " he called after me. " Take it, and if you value your life act up to it to the letter." It contained two woida and no hieroglyphics. Those two words were — " No Work ! " How I acted up to it the following pages will show. o o o o o In strong contrast to the crowd atid bustle at leaving in the afternoon is the quietude late in the evening. Many AN ATLAXTIC "GREYHOUND." promenade up and down the beautiful deck under the elec- trically-lighted roof, and gaze upon the lights of many craft flitting to and fro in the gentle breeze like will-o'-the-wisps, postponing retiring, as they are not yet accustomed to the vibration of the Atlantic greyhound, which trembles underneath them as if, like the real greyhound in full cry after a hare, it is literally straining every muscle to l)eat the record from the Old World to the New. What a difference has taken place since those "good old days " of those good old wooden ships, with their good old slow passages and their good old uncomfortable Ijerths I Now the state cabin is an apartment perfectly ventilated, gorgeously COXFESSIOiV.S OF A COLUMBUS. 39 furnished, equipped with every modem improvement, and electrically lighted ; the switches close to the l)ed (not berth) enable one to turn the light on or otf at will. The ever- watchful attendant comes in, wishes me good-night, after folding my clothes, and departs. Leaving the incandescent light burning over my head, I open the book dealing with the wonders of America which I have taken from the well- stocked library, and read of great Americans, from Washington to the man who has brought this very light to such per- fection, turning over page after page of well-nigh incredible description of the country which has raised the system of " booming " to a high art, till my brain reels with an Arabian Nightish flavour of exaggeration, and turning off the electric current, I am gradually lulled to sleep by the rhythmical vibrations of the steamer, the sole reminder that I am in reality sleeping upon a ship and about to enjoy a thorough week's rest. I awoke from the dreams in which I had pictured myself a veritable Columbus, and drawing aside the blind of my port- hole, I looked out into the morning light, and was, perhaps, for a second surprised to see land. " Sandy Hook already ! Can it be ? " Well, hardly, just at present. Though who can tell but that in another fifty years it may be possible in the time ? It is in reality the "Ould Counthry," and we are nearing Queenstown. There is a good muster at breakfast, and everyone is smiling, having had at least one good night's rest on the voyage. The waters skirting the Irish coast sometimes outdo the fury of the broad Atlantic, and are generally just as troubled and combatant as the fiery political elements on the little island ; but so far we have had a perfect passage, and the beautiful bay of Queenstown looks more charming than ever as the engines stop for a short period l)efore their five days' incessant activity to follow. Not only the ship, but the doctor, comes from the Emerald Isle. Who crossing the Atlantic does not know the witty Dr. 1 " Ah, shure, me darlin', and isn't it himself 90 COX F ESS IONS OF A CARICATURIST. i that's a l.rotlj av a bhoy ? " And so lie is, simply bubbling over with hutnoiir and gootl-nature. Presiding at one end of the long tal>K', I have to pass him as I leave th(! saloon. Having sketcht'd Irish scenery and Irish character in my youth, I am not temjjted to open my forldddcn sketch-book ; but somehow or other I find myself making a rapid sketch of the Doctor as he rises from his seat at the end of the table to wish the " top of the mornin' " to a lady who aits on his right. My excuse is to send it to his friend, my doctor in London. Then, without tliinking, I sketch in a few other passengei-s, and instinctively make ;i note of thef surroundings. I confess I am already guilty of breaking my pledge ! And, therefore, make my escape on dock. The huge steamer seems to act as a sort of magnet on the small fry of the harbour, for they rush out to her from the land in all their sorts and sizes, in a desperate race for supremacy. Prominent among this fieet is a long, ungainly rowing-boat propelled by a tough Hibernian, and seated in the stern are his women folk, surrounded by baskets, who, in strong Milesian vernacular, urge the rower on in his endeavours to reach the ship first. Looked down upon them from your floating tower, they strongly resemble a swarm of centipedes. Harder and harder pull the " bhoys," and louder and louder comes the haranguing of the females as they appioach us. I have my eye on the lady in the stern of the first boat. She is foir, fat, and forty, possessed of really m>issivc proportions, most powerful lungs, and a true Irish physiognomy — a cast of countenance in which it always strikes me that Nature had originally forgotten the nasal organ, and then returning to complete the work had taken between finger and thui a piece of flesh and pinched it, thus forming the nose rather high up on the face, while the waste of material below goes to make the upper lip. The puller of the stroke oar is probably her husband, two others are wielded evidently by her .„o sons, and the bow is taken by her strapping daughter. One of her arms encircles the merchandise she intends to dispose of on board our vessel, I COyFESSIOX^ OF A COLVMHUS. M while the other vigorously helps to propel the oar hehl by h r brawny liusband. All the while she is urging on her crew in her native language, with what may he commandrt, exhortations, or even blessings, but sounding to tlie unaccustomed Saxon ear very much like curses, which chase one another out of her capacious mouth with a rapidity unequalled by even an irritated monkey at the Zoo. Their lumbering craft is the first to touch the side of the Teutonic. Standing up in the boat, the good old lady exerts her vocal powers on the crew on the lower deck, with the resiilt that a rope fully fifty feet long is thrown in her direction, having a loop on the end of it, by which she is lassoed. With an agility only acquired after years of prac- tice, she adjusts the loop rapidly round her, and calls ou the crew to hoist awa)'. The boat heels over to one side as she vigorously pushes herself away from it, and souse the old dame goes up to her waist in the water; the good-natured sailors give an extra jerk, and v.- she comes, with baskets tied round her waist, and her feet acting as fenders against the side of the shij). Fortunately the Teutonic is bulky enough to resist heelinj' over under this extra weight on the starboard side. She is shipped like a bale of C. — VOL. II. p AT QUEEN8T0WN— A REMINISCENCE. 34 COXFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. goods, and is immediately engaged in discharging some more of her loquacity in directing the acrobatic performances of her daughter, who is the next to ascend. This scene caused much laughter, and I was induced to make a sketch of the lady's acrobatic performance. The other maritime vendors are hauled up in similar uncere- monious fashion, and they take jwsst^ssion of both decks. The pretty daughter of Erin lays out with no little artistic taste her bog-oak oniaments, and 'Arry (for the genus «ad is to l)e encorntered even on board such aristocratic ships as these) attempts to lie rampantly facetious at her expense. But the damsel with the un- kempt auburn locks flowing about her comely face, lit up by a pair of blue Irish eyes under their dark lashes, takes the cad's vul- garity together with his money, like the pill with the jam, giving in return the valueless pieces of carved wood, - Jl her little stock is exhausted and a good morning's work is done. On the lower deck trade is brisker. The emigrants (principally by this line Scandinavians, in their picturesque peasant dress, the Germans of course preferring to go by their own line, the North German Lloyd) are fitting on Tarn o' Shanters of the crudest colours, scarves of hues that would cause the steamer's danger signals to turn pale, and eatables of all descriptions — I ought to say of all the worst descriptions. Unhealthy-looking cakes in which the currants are as scarce as Loyalists in the part of the country in which they are made, tinned meats and fruits that look suspiciously like condemned provisions or unsavoury salvage ; in fact the only really genuine article of BOO-OAK 80UTEXIRS. i coxFi'ssioys or a columbus. 35 diet was that contained in the milk-pails. I inay - remark that these alien steerage passengers don't really c r whole- some food. Nothing could be hotter ih-x^ l>e e. oiilent footl prepared by the ship's steward, but thoso c.ni^rants prefer to bring with thera pro\ isions that beggar de8cri[>tion. All the time the Irish purvt-yors are «'n>ptying their baskets and filling their pockets, and rowing buck to the shore enriched and delighted ; their brothers and siHtcr.sare flowing up the gang- way in a continual stream, with weeping eyes au^o u miniature Irish fair. When last the boat stopped as usual .a Queenstowu bay I sadly missed the familiar scene, and having nothing Iwtter to do I went on shore. As a number of us strolled off the tender on which the mails wei-e to return I noticed two men in ordinary dress standing some distanc*' off, looking on at the scene. They were both fine specimens of humanity, each of thera about six feet high. "Detectives," I whisiiered to one of my friends. And as we approached these gentlemen, I said to one of them, " Looking for anyone this morning '{ " " Not for you, Mr. Furuiss." Considering I had never been in Queeustown in my life, that I had never been in the grip of these " sleuth-hounds " of the police, I must admit that the British detective is not so stupid as we generally imagine, for no doubt tliese men kuew by tele- graph the name of eveiybody on board and amused themselves by placing us as I had amused myself by placing them. The Captain generally has some voyager under his special care, and my vis-a-vis, his protegee upon this trip, was a most charming and delightful young lady on her way to rejoin her family in the Far West. The skipper's seat is vacant at break- fast time, and should the weather be rough, at the other meals also. If the elements are very Iwisterous, the "fiddles" are D 2 J 36 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. screwed on to the tables, and on them a lively tune is played by the jingling glasses and rattling cutlery to the erratic beating of the Atlantic Avave. The Captain's right and left hand neigh- bours are exempt from the use of these appliances, and the small area caused by this is the only space in the yards and yards of table unencumbered by the " fiddles." The Captain scorns the aid of such mechanical contrivances, and chatters away uncon- cerned, gracefully balancing his soup-plate in his hands the THE CAITAIN's TABLE. while. I followed his example as one to the manner born, but had I not been a bit of an amateur conjuror I am afraid that I should not have been so successful. The Captain challenged me, however, to make a sketch with the same ease as I ate my dinner — and again I was forced to break my pledge ! It was amusing to listen to the petty jealousies and the little grumblings of those not satisfied with their lot at table. One lady stated as an excuse for having her meals in her cabin that her neighbour, a bagman— or " drummer," as Americans would call him — made a noise with his mouth while eating; and another I CONFESSIONS OF A COLUMBUS. 8T lady elected to dine in her stateroom in solitude because in the saloon she had her back to a Bishop instead of her face ! It was my good fortune to meet on board that most genial and gifted of men, " England's greatest tenor," Mr. Edward Lloyd, who under the management of that equally genial and energetic impresario, Mr. Vert, was on his way to charm the ears of our cousins on the other side. Then we had one of the greatest favourites in the sporting world, who was popping over, as he had been continually doing from his earliest youth, to look after his estates in his native country. From the Captain down to the under stokers he had been with all a familiar figure for many years, and he had a pleasant word and a shake of the hands for everybody. He could give you the straight tip for the Derby, was a fund of information anent the latest weights for the big handicaps, and on our arrival in the States it was with general satisfaction that we learnt that one of his horses had won a race while its owner was crossing the " Herring Pond." We had yet another celebrity on board in the person of the bright little Italian whose clever caricatures, especially those of Newmarket and Newmarket celebrities, so delight us in the pages of Vanity Fair over the nom de crayon " Lib." I think he caused us as much amusement as his sketches, caricaturing everybody on board, not even excepting himself, whom he most truthfully depicted as a common or bam owl. Or was it I who drew him as the owl ? I forget. But I do know that he looked uncommonly like one as a rule, for he used to lie wrapped in his Inverness upon a deck chair, his face only visible, with pallid cheeks and distended eyes, and I did more than one caricature of him for his fair admirers. That was on the rough days, for like a great many foreigners, and English people too for the matter of that, he was a bad sailor. Fortunately for me, I am a hardened sailor, and as such cannot feel the amount of cousideratiuu I should otherwise do for those less lucky than myself When the weather was calm I used to notice my Italian friend seated, surrounded by the ladies, with an air of triumph and a smile upon his intelligent visage. He was having his revenge I I S8 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. When he was not sketching, he was playing chess with the Captain. Now this commander was a captain from the top of his head to the soles of his feet A stem disciplinarian, erect, handsome, uncommunicative, not a better oflScer ever stood on the bridge of an Atlantic or any other liner. He had a contempt for the " Herring Pond," and manipulated one of these floating hotels with as much ease as one would handle a toy boat. " When a navigator's duty's to be done," he vfBs par excellence a modem Ceesar, but despite his sternness he had a sense of humour, and his unbending moments stmek one withanemphasisedsurpriae. He could not bear a bore. Those fussy landlubbers who are always tapping the barometers, asking questions of ever)"^ member of the crew, testing, sounding, and finding fault with the weather chart, had better steer clear of the worthy Captain, as with hands thrust deep in his pockets he strides from one end of the deck to the other during the course of his constitutional. It is on record that one of these fussy individuals, edging up to a well-known Captain as he was going on to the bridge when a mist was gathering, and the siren was about to blow as customary when entering on an Atlantic fog, remarked : "Captain, Captain, can't you see that it is quite clear overhead ? " The Captain turned on his heel to ascend to the bridge, and scornfully rejoined : " Yes, sir, yes, sir ; but can't you see that I am not navigating a balloon ? " KOT CP IS A BALLOON. COJJTFESSIOyS OF A COLUMBUS. s» On one occasion the Captain had been through a terribly stormy afternoon and night, and had not quitted his post on the bridge for one minute, the weather being awful. Fogs, icebergs, and the elements all combined to make it a most anxious time for the one man in charge of the valuable vessel and her cargo of 1,700 souls, and during the whole period the unflinching skipper had not tasted a mouthful of food. The Captain's boy, feelina for his master, had from time to time endeavoured with some succulent morsel to make him break his long fast; but the firm face of the Captain was set, his eyes were fixed straight ahead, and his ears were deaf to the lad's appeal. It was break- fast time when the boy once more ventured to ask the Captain if he could bring him something to eat. This time he got un answer. " Yes," growled the '^aptain, " bring me two larks' livers ou toast ! " These Atlantic C . >t;ii' of the older school were a hardened and humorous lot >t' ■ .igators, and many a story of their eccentricity survives Lliein : one in particular of an old Captain seeing the terror of the junior officer during that nervous ordeal of treading the bridge for the first time with him. This particular old salt, after a painful silence, turned on the young man and said, " I like you. I'm very much impressed by you. I've heard a lot about you — in fact, my dear sir, I aliouki like to have your photograph. You skip down and get it." The nervous and delighted youth rushed off to his cabin, and informed his brother officers of the compliment the old man had just paid him. He was in luck's way, and running gaily up on to the bridge, presented his photograph, blushing modestly, to the old salt. " 'Umph ! Got a pin with you ? " " Ye— es, sir." " Ah, see I I pin you up on the canvas here. I can look at you there and ail mire you. You can go, sir ; your photograph is just as valuable as you appear to l)e on the bridge. Good The Captain of the ship I was on had his chessmen pegged, 40 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. and holes in the board into which to place them, so that despite any oscillations of the ship they would remain in their places ; but the unfortunate part of the business was that although he could provide sea-legs for his chessmen it was more than he could do for his opponent, and it was as good as a play to see Signor "Lib" hiding from the Captaiix when the weather was not CHESS. all it might be, and he in consequence felt anything but well. One mate after another would be despatched with the strictest orders from the Capfciin to search for the cheerless chessite ; but after a time the Captain's patience would be exhausted, his strident voice could be heard calling upon the caricaturist to come fortli and show himself, and eventually he might be seen en route to his cabin with the box of chussuieu under one arm and his opponent under the other. a COXFESSIONS OF A COLUMBUS. 41 *2.-:— I was cruel enough on more than one occasion to follow them and witnctjs the sequel. "Your move, now — your mo\ A " "Ah, Captain! I do veel zo ill! Ze ship it do go up and down, up and down, until I do not know vich is ze bishop and vicb is ze queen ! " "Nonsense, sir, nonsense! Your move — ^look sharp, and I'll soon have you mated ! " The poor artist did move, and quickly too, but it was to the outside of the cabin ! The Captain was triumphant at table, telling us of his victcy, but his poor opponent could only point to his untouched plate and to the waves dashing against tlie portholes, and with that shrug of the shoulders, so suggestive to witness but so difficult to describe, would thus in dumb show explain the ciuse of his defeat. I remember well on one beautiful afternoon, the sky bright and the sea calm, just before the pilot came on board when we were nearing the States, Signor Prosperi (for that was his name) came up to me, his fiice the very embodiment of triumph : " Ah, I have beaten ze Captain at last — hut ze sea is smooth !" On the outward voyage, as I said before, we had a host in Mr. Edward Lloyd, but he was under contract not to warble until a certain day which had been fixed in New York, and no doubt his presence had a deterrent eiftct upon the amateur talent, with the exception of one lady, who came up to Mr. Lloyd and said : " You really must sing — you really must ! " " I am very sorry, madam, but I really can't — I am not my own master in this matter." " Oh, but you must," she rejoined. " I have promised that if you will sing, / will ! " An American who had "made his pile," as the Yankees say, remarked to the hard-worked vocalist : " I think, sir, that as you are endowed with such a bt^-vutifui voice you ought by it to benefit such a deserving eutcrtaiuuient as this." 4S CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. "Certainly," replied the world-famed tenor. "My fee for singing is fifty guineas, and I will be pleased to oblige the company if you will pay a cheque for that amount into the sailors' fund." And, in my opinion, a right good answer too. These middle- men and their wives and daughters are always pestering professional men to give their services to charities for nothing. but in cases like the one I have just cited they take very good care that they do not unloosen their own purse-strings to help the cause along and equalise the obligation. However the concert took place, and I, unable to resist the flattering request to "do some- thing," and not being prohibited from taking part — as Mr. Lloyd was — made several sketches, just to keep my hand in, and they were raffled for. All goes well and smoothly on the voyage until one night you are awakened by a harsh, V ^ ^ r grating, shrieking sound, lou start from your slumbers, and for a moment imagine that in reahty you are in the interior of some fearsome ocean monster who IS bellowing either in rage or fear, for the sound is unique m Its wild hideousness, half a screerl, and half a wail, acraressive and yet mournful. Your ears have just recovered from the first shock when they are assaulted by another, and yet anotliur, at intervals of about a minute. It is the voice of the siren. Waa ever a more inappropriate name bestowed upon the steam MR. LLOYD AND THE LADY. "IF YOU WILL SING, I WILL ! " CON'FESSIONS OF A COLUMBUS. 4» whistle of an Atlantic liner ? It conveys to me the news that we are passing through an Atlantic fog, and I defy anyone, be they in the most perfect ship, under the safest of commanders, to feel comfortable in such circumstances. The siren still wails, and like UJysses and his companions I feel very much inclined to stuff my ears with wax. Indeed, peering out of my porthole through the mist, I almost seem to see the figures of the mythological voyager and his companions carved in ice, no doubt beguiled by the treacherous music of the siren. These are in reality our main terrors, the icebergs. It is a relief when we have left them behind and evaded the clutches of the demon fog, and the fresh breeze and the glorious sun lend a new beauty to the sparkling water, showing us in the distance white specks skimming over the waves like gulls, the first sign that we are approaching land — the white gleamiujj wings of the pilot yachts. Signals are exchanged, and one of these boats conies nearer and nearer to us, tacking to perfection. Through our glasses Ave already seem to see the stal wart figure of the pilot standing in the stern. On his brow he wears a storm-defying cap, the badge of the warrior of tlie waves ; the loose shirt, the top boots, and the weather-beaten jacket all combine to make up a picturesque figure, and I sketched what seemed to me to je the figure of the man who was coming on board to guide us to the Hook of Sandy. As THE AMERICAN PILOT— IHEAU THE AMERICAN PILOT — ^REAL. 44 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. the httle vessel approaches m the intervening sail hides from my view the figure of the one man I want to see. A boat is kwered from the side of the pilot boat, into which two sdlors descend Who on earth is this who steps in after them and takes the rudder lines ? He sports a top hat. kid gloves, and patent shoes. Is he a commercial traveller ? He looks it He 18 rowed to the side of the steamer, and then the fun begins. A rope ladder ,s lowered from the deck, which is immediately clutched by one of the oarsmen in the boat, and this common- pkce commercial scrambles towards it. Just then a wave breaks over him. and more like a drowned excursionist than an American pilot this little man is hauled on board. I think a great deal of the Atlantic, but I am sorely dwappomted with the American pilot. The Americans pride themselves upon their independence, and surely a more independent race never existed. The brow- beaten Britisher is not long in finding this out, and in my case t wa3 most clearly demonstrated to me at the first stoppU of the steamer after leaving Quecnstown. After our headlong°race across the broad Atlantic, after eveiy nut and screw in the vessel ha3 been strained to save every particle of time, and everv moment watched and calculated, here at the mouth of the Hudson, in sight of the colossal statue of Liberty, we are kept waiting under a broiling sun on a beautiful day for an uncon- scionable time whilst forsooth the health officer or his sub- ordinate IS enjoying his lunch. Fancy 1.700 foreigners being kept waiting because a paid official-paid by the shipowners of Ji-ngland— wishes to satisfy his selfish greediness ! I watched for this gentleman as he crawled on board, having come across eventually from his riparian villa. There were no apologies (Americans never apologise). I don't know the gentle- man s name, but here I show you his face. His cheek I have described already. Now that I have touched on America itself, I wish it to be understood that it is not my intention to look out for and com- ment upon the faults of our American cousins, but rather in describing my all too brief visits to a charming people in a COXFESSIONS OF A COLUMBUS, 46 charming country to deal with their merits. But it ia proverbial that first impressions are everything, and the first I received of official America, in the person of this particular individual, was the only instance I saw which would not compare favourably with the red-tapeism of our own country. And 1 must say, from what I was told even by Americans themselves, that the worst side of their countrymen is to be seen where the official depart- ment is concerned, and to illustrate this I shall still stick to the official (or his representative, whichever it was) that I have just been describinsr. The ship which followed that in which I came over brought from England some persons who were at the time the talk of American THE HEALTH OFFICER COMES ON BOABD. society. They had been connected with some gigantic scandal, and the interviewers, scenting copy from afar, were ready to spring upon them. Of course, it was known that it was to the interest of the reporters (and they were only doing their duty) to get on board at Sandy Hook, and to frustrate them a special steamer was sent down with instructions to the captain of the liner that no one was to accompany the officer of health on l)oard. The medical officer came in his tug witli the whole batch of reporters, and declared that he would not permit the vessel to proceed into port uidess his friends were allowed on 46 COXFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. board. The almighty dollar had polluted officialism, and dis- ckMed to the incoming Htrangers that the huge statue of Liberty before them, which held on high the torch of advancement and enhghtenmeut, was really a snare and a delusion, at any rato as lar as red-tapcism was concerned. And so I arrived after a week's thorough rest, with my sketch- book fuU ! I could not help breaking my pledge ; it was my first tnp across the Atlantic, and everything was therefore new and mtc resting. In fact, so was all I saw in the States, and my pencil was always busy. I was looking forward to a genuine rest on my return journey, but it happened to be in the crowded sea^n. and the ship was so full I was asked, as a particular favour to a very distinguished cleric," to share my cabin with him. ^^ ^^^he departure of an Atlantic liner has a ^^ya^^V great attraction on both sides of the ^I^IU^^ " Herring Pond," but there is a difference. Passengers leaving England are sur- rounded with cheap and vulgar litera- ture, newspapers, guide-books, sticks, and umbrellas. Leaving America, the liner is turned into a floa ig flower show. Most beautiful bouquets labelled with the names of the lady passengers , ^ . ^^^ on view in the saloon. Just as°the last gangway IS drawn on to the shore, amid cries of " Clear away ! ' we hear suddenly " Hold hard ! " There is a commotion. Someone has not yet arrived ; we lean over the side of the ship to see who is coming. Perhaps it is an important emissary of the Government, or even the President himself We all push forward • the stalwart New York police keep back the crowd; the crew of the good ship Majestic hold the gangway in its place as the centre of attraction trips gaily up it. It is a diminutive nigger messenger from a florist's, with a huge bouquet of flowers. I ima«rine I see my own name on the label, so I modestly seclude m>self in my own cabin, whence I only emerge after we have passed Bartholdi*8 colossal figure, just to have one last peep at the country in which I have stored up such i)Ieasant memories. JUST IN TIME ! COXFSSSIOJfS OF A COLUMBUS. 47 i'l By this time the bouquets of the flower show had Wen trans- ferred to the cabins of their owners. I may mention, by the way, that thA cynical lady on board, who wore a solitary bunch of faded violets in her dress, informed me that raoat of the ladies paid for the bouquets themselves, and had them sent on board with their names attached. I don't wish to seem egotistical, but I know that when I went back to uy own cabin I found the greatest difficulty in forcing the door open. There was a huge bundle of something or other pressing against it. A fragrant scent was wafted tlutyugh the opening, which sent a ♦.i;ill through me. It tr. ■ '. be the big bouquet ! T ^ave one final shove, burst the door open, and discovered the bouquet to be a bishop, who was scenting his handkerchief at the time with otto of roses. It was worth the journey to America to have the honour of shar- ing a cabin with a bishop on the return journey. But what a contrast be- tween us ! What a theme for W. S. Gilbert ! Punch and the pulpit rocked together in the cradle of the deep ! When I first came on board I made arrangements at once with the bath steward, and, being rather an early bird, I fixed my time to be called at seven o'clock. When I retired to tlie cabin I found the worthy lushop (he is now Lord Primate of Ireland) looking plaintively at his berth. Like all on board it was roomy and comfortable, but probably Sir Edward Ilarland had not taken the portly prelate (who, by the way, is almost a neighbour uf his) as a gauge for the size of the berths. Mine was, if anything, a trifle larger, so I respectfully invited the bishop to change with me. "A FLOATING FLOWER SHOW,' ^IP^ 48 COXFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST I was awakened uext morning hy assault and battel U^rg committed on tbc poor bishop, of which I was the imoceut cause. An athletic-looking man, with a white jacket, an.l sLc /ta rolled uj> to his ellwws, was shaking the verj- life out of my clerical friend and shouting "Seven o'clock! Your time sir' Seven o'clock ! Your time \ " The bishop looked something like a criminal sentenced to death must do when the hangman awakes him on the fatal morning, and I had to explain to the Kith ♦ r THE BATH STEWARD AKD THE BISHOP. '« YOUB TIME, SIR ! YOUR TIME ! " Steward that we had changed berths, and that in future ISu. 2 was to be awakened instead of No. 1 . Perhaps it is not generally known that suicide is nearly as prevalent as rml de mer amongst these Americans who ai« rushing over for a few weeks' repose. They work at such a fear- ful rate, slaves to that insatiable god the almighty dollar, that eventually they either have to fly to a lunatic asylum or an Atlantic liner. After a day or two on the latter the calm and repose and the vast sea around them prove too much of an anti- dote ; the overtaxed brain gives way, and overl>oard they go. COXFESSIOXS OF A VOLCMBUS. »9 An EDglishman in too foml of oxercise to lUow high prest^ure t«> get the better of him in this way, and ttic difference brtween English and American people on thei*i' liners is most marked. Directly an American family conies on Iwiird they s lect places for their deck chairs, which, ex( -pt for meuls, they mver leave. From early morning until latu at night, mi'ch to the astonish- ment of the Americans, the English passengers — men, women, and children — pace tlie deck as if it wero a go-as-you-please contest for immense prizes. Being a good sailor but a l»ad sleeper, I think I fairiy qualified foi first prize. Morning, noon, J. AMERK A.N8 AND EXGLISH (i\ UVfK.. and night, rotn. i and round those magnificent docks I went, to the .lisgust an< onw of tho.>t' who could not move oil tin ir deck c-hau-s, and wiio l: u COiVFESSIOXS OF A COLUMBUS. 67 London for the first time, in the height of the season, to stay u week in order to get her impressions for a book she was writing, in which the heroine had flown to London for that period of time. She went everywhere and saw everything ; just before she left London I asked her what had impressed her most of all she had seen. In reply she said, "Tlic fact that the drivers of public vehicles never cracked their whips ! " If I were asked what impressed me most about New York, I should not say Brooklyn Bridge, or Wall Street, or the Elevated Railway, but the number of chiropodists advertise- ments ! They confront you at every turn ; these hugt gilded models of feet outside the chiro- podists' establishments, some painted realistically and many adorned with b anions, are destined to meet your eye as you stroll through the streets. Should you look up, you will see them suspended from the first floor window, or painted on canvas on the front of the house. Avoid the shops altogether, and you are bound to knock up against some gentleman in the gutter encased in a long white waterproof, on which is por- trayed the inevitable foot and the name and address of the chiropodist. Now why is this ? The Americans have pretty feet and small hands, both men and women. Is it vanity, and do they squeeze their foet i ito boots too small for them, or are their pedal coverings badly made, or does the secret lie in the rough pave- ments of their thoroughfares ? I am glad to say that I never required the services of a foot doctor, but I know that my feet have ached many and many a time after promenading the New York pathways. CHIROPODY. 58 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. New York ought to be called New Trilby. I was offered more than once an open cheque which I might fill in to cover all my expenses from the time I left England unta I reached the shores of the Old Country again if I would supply a journal with one page of impressions of America illus- trated. A suggestion of this sort; in an English newspaper office would have just about the same effect as a big canister of dynamite ! I didn't accept any of these tempting C:^^(s29V^jif'^^\ offers. I didn't go ^--^PiM^'?^r^«v to the States on my fii-st visit to paint glaring pictures, or to make up stories, or to marry an American heiress, nor did 1 go in search of the almighty dollar. I simply went as a tourist i: search of health, and with the desire of shaking hands with my man)- friends on the r , j> other side. 1 was therefore extremely annoyed on my arrival to find the irrepressible lecture agent, Major Pond, had coolly announced that I was gomg over to him, and he had actually taken rooms for me at the Everett House ! Of course I informed the interviewers that i was not going to tour with Pond or to make money in any way. I wa. merely a bird of passage, . ram nri., a visitor without an eye on the almighty dollar. After 1 returned to England an irresponsible paragraphist i COyfESSlOXS Of A COLUMBUS. 59 AtnAaiE MM. HAUmi rUMKMM*. Tk« l ua iiM PM«k CariMalM BMtea Cur- tala Vmlttuuttf Bip»t l «i To THK EnnoB or Ths Svv— .%■: r»nsraphi hare appeared In some Amariran papers to tha affect that I "weat home determined tocire It to Mew York and the Anjrioana hot" I oan only Kuppoae thattbU U uflaated (or the pur- upon mr (or I had a and have ble remi- paaeo( flrincoffa verr name at the saoriftee o( noHt ftleasAnt time In brouKht baok trith ma il nisocnces. which 1 intund Will you be kind onoush unfair Inafnuatton. and aTao t . mtae that I went to thahtatee, of any paper or poraon ? I i journey in aearch of health, i o( the almighty dollar. . By the way. before the end of the year I mar eoutrtimto t'> Lnndou i'uncA a few pnfea from my well-stocUed A'nertcanakntch book. Faltii- fully yourn. . . HAK»t Fumoaa. OAaatCB CV.'B. London. July, 1092. informed the American public that I went home determiawl to give it to them hot. This contradiction of mine appeared, and was sent to me by the Major. Note in it I con- tradict his report that I went over in his interests. Major Pond is a typical American, hospitable, kind, with an eye for business, but I do not appear in his entertaining book, nor was I ever on his business books either. He sat for me on the shoeblack's street chair outside his office when I made a sketch of him, and he was so obliging I believe he would have stood on his head if I had asked him. lie managed to get me to stand in front of the camera, but not in front of an audience. Sofflp day I shall write a paper entitled " Photographers I Have Mot," for few people have faced the fire of the camera oftener than 1. I am not a fashionable beauty, nor much of a celebrity, neither am I honestly a vain man — I shrink from the rays of the too truthful lens — but I have been drajjged into the line of fire and held there until the deed is done, like an unwilling convict, in nearly every town I have viwited have 1 und'jrgone this opemtion, and th<' result is ;t collection of criminal- looking, contorted countenances of a lioscription seldom seen outside the museum of a iwliee station. I was therefore determined not to incur this risk in America. Photographers sent their cards, but they saw me not (perhaps if •0 COXFSSSIOys OF A CARICATURIST, they had they would have repented of their invitation). However one day I was secured by stratagem. ' I was walking along Union Square with Major Pond, whose martial bearing impressed me as much as his 'cuteness fascinated me. He had that morning heard of my determination not to be photographed, and as he walked along he suddenly stepped into a doorway, his arm in mine, touched a button in a sidrpanel. down rushed an elevator, the door was flung open, and I wai flung in. "Sarony," sad the Major, and up, up, up we flew. 1 he photographer ? I asked hurriedly. d^we« (nude studies) " we have in this gr-e-a-t country, sir. Here he is, deaf to everything but art, and to everyone but Who can say photography is not high art when you have to go up seven stories to it ? I now stood before the greatest photographer in the world- and the smallest. I stood-he danced. He talked-I listened. Come here, ' he cried ; " you are an artist-vou can under- stand genius— you can appreciate my work." And he produced from a portfolio a quantity of studies, or, as the Major would call them, "flesh s theatrical dancers and others in motion to perfection. Of the most suc- cessful of his photos that I saw was that of a row of comedians dancing together, and although I was not present at the moment the photograph was taken, I have no douht, from the pleasant smile of their faces and their artistic poses, that all credit was due to the late Sarony. The Major had his "Bureau" in Everett House. There he arranged for his " stars," and there under false pretences he decoyed me, anefore him. If any new or forgetful waiter offered the obnoxious liquid to the foreigner, it was soon thrown at his head or to the other end of the room. Americans scMom show their feelings, but anything they resent they will harbour in their minds, and' never forger. In due course this singer died. The weather was hot at the time, and the body in the shell was surrounded by ice until the time came to carry it out of the hotel. As it passed through the hall the manager, who had had many and many an upbraiding from the excitable Italian after the latter had been proffered the hateful iced water, rushed out and triumjAantly exclaimed : Guess, sir, you've got plenty of ice now, whether you like it or not ! '" I was told that kindness would be showered upon me in America. I lived in a perfect blizzard of hospitality, the force of which was too much for me to stand up against. The poet asks, " What's in a name ? " I don't know, I'm sure, but I know what's not in a name, and that's something by which you can identify the owner of it. You are introducctl to a man, his name being given you as Mr. James B. Brown. You could never forget his face as long as you live, but there is nothing in the name of James R Brown to lix it in your memory. Indians are more practical —they adoj.t nicknames. Amongst th<'m the gentleman in (luestion would probably be known as " Cherrybeak," " Bleary Eye," or some such descriptive cognomen. I felt the want of this common-sense system when in America terribly. While there I liv.nl at the highest pressure of hospi- tality. Breakfosts, luncheons, teas, dinners, suppers, receptions and nil sorts of gatherings, sometimes two or thi-ee of them in one day. At eaih of them 1 was introduced to most interesting people, names perfectly fnrailiar to me but faces unknown. I was bewildered beyond description. I made many friends, and CO\J-'E.SS/0\S OF A COUMHCS. •S a» a uatunil consequciicu I tuiul*' many bluiuierH. The worst of these latter I n'allj' must record, aud |»ray that nhuuld th^^ con- feasiou meet the eye of iny hoHf citable friend I trust h- wlW forgive me — indeed I know he will, for he is ont of the bewt ami cleverest of men. I was invited to an excellent dinner by ,» well-known man of letters I had never met before. 1 accepte. i the invitation on condition I should be allowed r>i leave early, as I had eugagemeni.-. two or three deep for that eveuiiifr. I came away with the liest inipre> sion of my ho-t and all his iViendw. I saw their jokes and their faces, and knew 1 would recollect both, but their names ! how to recollect them was the puzzle. That even- ing I met more distinguished jteople at the second house I visited, more at the third, and still more at the fourth. I shall never forget their kindness, but I gave up all hopes of trying to recollect hundreds of names, all new to me in one evening. The pi-oblem was hope- less. The following morning callers Ix'gan early, and more invitations poured in. At breakfast one of my new acquaintances called. " Tell me, Mr. Furniss, have you met our great lite and renowned humorist, Mr. James B. Brown ? ' " Brown, B'-own !" I repeated (that was not the name of course, but it will do). " Well, no. I know his name so well, but I don't think I have yet had the pleasure of making his aiMjuaintauce." " Not know James B, Brown i Well, you must straisfhtawav. Now let me reckon. You leave New York at four this afternoon — you must lunch firat. Why not with me at the Club ? I'll get James B. Brown there or I'll swallow Bartholdi's statue!" JAMKS B. SHOWN ! tciMi-y man «4 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. I founil refusals were of no avail, so I agi-eed. At one I entered the club, at two minutes past one James B. Brown entered, and we met. He was my first host of the previous evening ! We were formally introduced. I smiled— James B. Brown didn't. James B. Brown pulled himself up to his full height— about double mine — I never felt so small before. I shook his hand (he didn't shake mine) and said : " This is a great honour and pleasjvnt surprise," and I pulled the dismayed celebrity gently to my side, when getting on tip- toes I telephoned up the string of his eyeglass: " Keep up the j(»ke, Mr. Brown, keep it up. Fact is, I was so delighted at meeting you last night and so charmed with you that when I was asked if 1 hud met you before I said ' No,' so that I might have the pleasure of meeting you again. Forgive me f " James B. Brown shook ray hand warndy, and tt'le|)honed down: " Sir, this is the greatest romplimeut I have ever received. Your sin will Iw forgiven for your sincere flattery of so hundile an admirer as mysi-lf." Americans claim to be wujHjrior to xis in respect of three things —their facility in travelling, their fire system, an.l their after- dinner speaking. One of these I will not question, and that is the Fir.' Brigade. It is necessary for .\nierica to excel in this respect, for with their huge warehouses and stores ovcrstocke*! with iufiammable goods firo would destroy their cities as Chicago was destroyed, were they not so wond.'rfully [.rompt and ettieient with their engines and appliances. N\ h.ii I arrived \\\ the ouitcs I only prescted two t.f the very numerous letters of intrudutain of the Fire Uriga.le. The latt.-r 1 nut. when 1 arrive.l at the station at which he is locate.l, just comintf out in ordinary .•lotlus, for it was his night ofl'; but sueh is the pri.le taken by the Fue Brigade in their work that whatever engagement he was going to keep was abandon, d, an.] h- was at my service untd I had seen everything it was possible to see in connection with the famous Fire Bri FIKK ! say Jack Uobinson (even if you wanted to), stemingly by magic but in R'ality by electricity, the halters fell from the horses' heads, and to my surprise, without any one being near them they rushcil to their places at either side of the shaf;; of the engine. There were maaholes in the ceiling, through which brass rods wero suspendel vertically. Down these 8li'at, and in a second or two I heard again the rumbling of the fn-jine over the pavement. We escaped Itefore the raou were back again to 1>ed, but hardly had I been shown the completeness of everything, and gone into details which I need not repeat here, and had another wink from the old grey mare, which plaiidy said, '' .\h, 1 knew those alarms were false," when her two ears went up like a flash as she sprang under her harness once more, the other animal as quickly bv lier side. The third alarm was a genuine one, and she knew it. The Captain and I, as .soon as the alarm was given, rushed in the direction of the fire, but we had not got to the first corner Itefore the old mare and her companion flew past, and I just li.id time to notice that the men were completing their toilet as they were hurled by. (^hiickly followc'l the officer of the night ni his one-hor.s'_' trap, and l»y the time we got to t'te fire, which was only round a block of buildings, aii e.\liil»itit' tin' fonria^ni- tion, for so anxious arc tlic men to l>c up to time tliiit tlicy an often in the street, harnessed. c(piipped and ready, l>c|i>re the 68 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. second signal comes to acquaint them with the locality and extent of the fire. At least that was then the system. When I returned to England I stopped once as I was passing a fire station and told the men of the wonders I had seen in America. A very athletic, sailor-looking fireman, who had listened attentively to all I had to say, chimed in with " Yes, sir, what you've siiid is (juite true, for I've been in America myst'lf, anan8 in Boston, 1 ipiictly slii>pt'd ot!" to study Congress and to feast my eyes on the beautiful city of Wasliington. Not being clean-shavcii 1 could not wear a false beard, so I took a false name. ".Mr. Hany Furniss of London Punch" went in tin- spirit t<» lioston (for had 1 stayed nuieh longer in New York my used-up body wouhl have been returned in spirits to England ; " Mr. French of Nowhere " went in the flesh to Washington. (Jn arriving at my hotel I signed " Mr. French of Nowhere." Reporters who scan the hotel list tlid not think " Mr. French of Nowhere ' a subject worthy of dissection, so for a few days I thought I should enjoy perfect peaee with profit. .V " .stocky little Englishman ■' taking notes en /titssm.f with an amateurish fervency was probably what most people would think who cared to think at all of the stranger in their midst, I'lUt it .so happened that in going down by train from New York 1 sat o[)posite to a very delightful American gentleman, COXFESSIOXS OF A COLUMBUS. 69 and we chatted away in the most friendly fashion. We parted on arriving at the city. Next day I happened to " strike " him in the street. "I've been on the look-out for you everywhere, Mr. French " (I had given him my assumed name in the train). " I am very anxious to show you all over this beautiful city, and my brother the Judge is also anxious that you should dine at his house." I thanked him most cordially, and uecepted his kind offer, saying that I should be ready for him at my hotel at 9 o'clock the next morning. We parted, but my conscience pricked me for giving him a false name, so I hurried back after him and explained to him the whole circumstance. It was flattering to me to see that he took a greater interest than ever in being my guide. The next morning Mr. French (to all l)ut my new acquaintance) was in the liall of the " Arlington " at the appointed time. I waited and waited, but my guide did not put in an aj)pearaacc. Presently a strange gentleman came up to mc, and boldly addressed me b}- my proper name. I Siiw at once I was in the dutches of an interviewer, so I point-blank contradicted him, and asserted that my name was French. " That won't do for me," he .said. "Then you won't do for me," I said, and turned upon my heel. However, I rather liked the look i»f the man, and didn't like to disappoint him altogether, being a journalist myself. " I am waiting for u gentleman, " 1 said. " I expect him every minute, and then 1 must be off. ' "You may wait, but I guess that }."'ntleman won't arrive," said the jimmalist, " and 1 want a column out of you for our evening paper," A friglitful thought flashed across my mind. " Have I been sold i " I had, and I thought more of the gentleman of the Press (all the Pressmen were very kind to me in Washington, and, indeed, all over America) than I tlid of n»y newly-made ern«tinis.sie acid by way of dessert"; and references to my knowledge of the "Freds," "Toms," or "Dicks" of the Sporting Press of London, and to n>y familiarity with "Charlies," "Fitzs," and "Jims" of the "^SbijiiL- Cinle," were astounding. My manager rushed into my rooms with the paper in ouestion. " This will ruin your jnospccts here! We depend on tlw women folk ; they will never come to hear you after reading this! " And so it was. In spite of other interviewers at Washington writing of me as " an English good fellow, rich and juicy, and genial in flavour^ like other hot stuH's of that remarkable country '; and another, "Many Furniss' eclipse of the gayety of Joliii Bull, with facile pencil and Itiillinnt tongue, iitlructcil a cultured asseiiiblage to the Columbia. Thentti . Fui iiiss, a plump lump of a man, all curves from pumps to poll. COXFESSIOXS OF A COLlMHi'S. 71 m gesture and in the breezy flourish of his sentences, genially cynical like Voltaire, cuts an engaging figure in his black coat that he wears with the inborn grace of a well -dined Ixjudoner, a bon vivant, wiiose worldly shaft tickles and never bites, tor he is a gentleman whose wit wins and never wounds. Furniss is Tiuickenvy in the satirists mellow moments, and there is no little of the Thackerian spirit radiating in the pictures of this rotund and quaint little caricaturist. " I did very Imd business in Wa.shiii;,Hoii, largely due to bad manageinent. Five o'clock teas had Itccomo the rajjce "f Wash- ington Society, and my appearances in the theatre were between 4.15 and 6 o'clock in tlie afternoon. .Minding to this a critic wrote in the Mm-innif Times : " It may hel[» Mr. Furnis-s to forgive the .small audiences here in Wnshiiigt«m if he is informed that during this .season none of his English frienut this/(e/vf nrlii is the Fu/r/ni W'ushiiiii- tititii'ii-sis. At its heart is .seated the Supreme Court, keeping an eagle eye on the laws of the land ; under its right wing is the Senate (eipiivalent to the English Hou.se of Eonls) ; and the left shelters the Mouse of Kepresentativi's (corresponding to our Hovise of Commons). At Hrst this bird of buildings had no winfs, and the three representative as.send»lies .sat in the Central Edifice ; afterwards the wings were added, and now the Capitol is Hy enough for anything. It .soars high above the city, and from its summit a capital birdseye view is naturally obtained. The Sennte in the American Congress answers to the House of Lords in the British Parliament. The "sporting eilitor' would doubtless say that each iu its resitective country is the * 4 72 COXFESSrOXS OF A CARICATURIST. right hand of the Government, and when there happens to be a genuine stand-up fight, as fore^oen with Simin, an international contest, although the "left," in prize ring phraseology (the House of Representatives in America and the House of Commons in England), does all the preliminary work, THK TIIHOXK IN TlIK SKSA 1 K. it is rcsersed for the riglit, when the critical moment arrives, to administer the knock-out Mow. In Itoth the Old Country and the New these siipenor senatoi-s are politically alike. Hepresentatively they are a.s diH'erent as iced water is to old \tovt. The seating of the senators in these two assemMages is typical of the countries they represent. In the Hritish IIoum' of Loi-ds the Peers loll about on scarlet sofas; in America the chosen ones COXFBSSIOXS OF A COUMIiCS. sit ttt desks. The British Peer has forsaken one loungo to occupy another ; the American has left tlie office lUnk for the desk in oftico. In Britain the House of Lords is composed of Princes and Peers, with an admixture of hishops, brewers, and other political party pullers ; it is also an asylum for stranded THK THtlOXK, HOIJSK OK UEl'llKSKNTATlVilS. political wrecks from the Lower House. Sol.licrs and sailoi-s, too, are lionounnl and are sent there, not as politi.ians, but merely to exist for the time being in a sort of respcctabli- retreat, l)efore U-inj,' translated to the cry^.t of W.-stminster Abbey or St. Paul's. John Bull has made this luToditaiy hotch-potch. and he must swallow it. Jonathan selei-ts his scuutois to lus own taste, and has them dished ui> fresh from time to time. id .1: il 74 coyFEssioys of a carivatvkist. The StUittf is not sombre and 8«'tlate as is our Upix>r House, but siniplitity itself— uo gihled throne, no Lonl Cliancellor in \vi{T and gown, no offensive oflieinlisni. It hwks like a huge auetion room, the auctioneer Iteing the deputy I'resident standing at a table hanuner in hand knwking down the seimrate business of Stati lot by lot as put up by the clerks. The House «)f Representatives, like the Senate, reminds one very much of an auction room. It is a splendid hall, but its size prevents McndKi-s from being heanl wvy distinctly, particularly as they talk away amongst themselves, except when anything par- ticularly interesting is going on. In the Senate the talili", and the clerks' table, are of dark wood ; in the House of Representatives they are of white marble. The American flag lianjiiny over the Italrony y.ves it a .semi-theatrical look, and the white mariile table resembles an American bar, making one feel inclined to go up to it and order a brandy-smash, a gin-sling, or a corpse-reviver. he House has not met as I enter. The page-boys are playing at leapfrog, an«l \ ^ some e.irly Meinbcis are disposing of '^'■'■^-J^ their cornspundence, and instead of ""^'/j ! ; reproving the Ix)y3 case glances at them that seem to signify they would like to join in the game themselves. Presently a .Mcnilxr c.nies in baikwards through one of the doorways, calling i.iit tc something that is following him. I i' m over to see if he has brought his favourite dog or domestic cat, when a liale intiint m modernised Dutch i ostume comes m waddling l;iuglihi;^iy iiftei- her parent. Aiiother Member turns round on his swivel chair .s his page-boy runs up to him, shakes him heartily by the hand, tosses him on his foot and gives liiin a " ridi a-cockdior^ Oh. Vim Enjriish sticklei-s for etiijuette ! What would you say if Mr. Labt.uchere came in ou all fours with his little child pulling his coat-tails and whacking him with a sti< '-, or if Sir William JIarcourt jdayed at leapfnv:j with Lulu round the Speaker's chair '. ^ly drawing will show you better what the House of Repre- sentatives is like than any written description I can give. Each i 1 I i 11 if i I MKROCOPr IHOUmON TtST OMIT (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) /APPLIED IM^GE In 165} East Mam StrnI Rochntcf, N«w York 14609 USA (716) 482 - 0300 - Pt«»l» (716) 2n-99S9-Fa« COXJ-'ESSIOXS OF A COLUMlil'S. 77 Member has his own desk, with his Parliameutary papers all around him. Tie is not bothered, as Members are in England, by having his papers sent to his private house, or having to call for them at the otfiee when he arrives, or actually having to fight for a seat. Americans pay their Representatives, and consiil r that they too have a right to be accommodated with a seat whenever they want one to see them, and to know who they are ; so you have in f'ont of you a diagram of the sitting arrangements of the House, with the names of the ]llembers. At VI o'clock the procession enters. An otticial carries a little wand with the eagle on top, and after the Chaplain (during my first visit I saw the "Blind Chaplain," the Rev. W. H. Milburn) has delivered a few touching words about the Hoods in Minnesota, the reading of the "reakard" begins. The House buzzes with conversation and displaj's the utmost inditi'erence while the minutes of the last meeting are read with extraordinary rajtidity by a clerk with a grating voice. Every now and then a IMembcr corrects a mis- print in the " reakard " of what he has said, and then leave of a1)sence is given to applicants for it, who have to state their reasons. The Chairmen of the various Committees then report to the House, Chairmen of Committees taking in turn to sit in the Speaker's Chair and preside over the House, whilst anyone (;an examine them. Instead of calling out a Member by his name — Mr. Bacon or Mr. Beans — the Speaker calls upon " the gentleman from Illinois," or "the gentleman from Michigan." But if any «|uestion arises to which some Member has an objection filibus- tering is rampant. The Speaker rises and asks if there is any objection to the consideration of the Bill. After a pause he says, " The Chair hears none," and is about ordering the Bill to be engrossed when some Member objects and a division is taken, the Members standing up to ho counted. Groups of them. m AX EX-Sl'EAKEIl, li , :':l' hi IN iii. 1 i 78 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARIC AIT HIST. however, do not isay a Itit of attention, and sit about on their desks smoking cigars and telhng stories, and when the nurahers are given some of these will get up and complain that their names are not included, as they did not hear, or went out t< speak to a friend, or some 1/ivial excuse liko that, so thev are counted aorain. One in particular I noticed and made a sketch of peeling and eating an apple, and he strolled up afterwards and demanded to have his name inserted. 3Iore delay ; then " the gentleman from Somcwhere-elsc" informs the Speaker that there is not a quorum. " The gentleman from Bedlam " demands a division taken by tellers, and the Speaker agrees, and is just appointing the tellers, when " the gentleman from Obstructiauna " calls for " Yeas and Nays," which means, gentle reader, that the whole of the House of Representatives have to be called out by name, from Alpha to Omega. Those not wishing to vote .smoke or eat apples. Then some ^lember comes in and informs the Speaker that he didn't hear his name when it was called. In case the reader may think I am exaggerating I apjiend the following cutting from the "Congressional Kecord," vol. xxiii., No. !);i. : " Mr. O'NEILL of Pennsylvania. Mr. Speaker, I am paired, but I have voted in order to make a quorum. The SPEAKER. There is no quorum. Mr. HENDEKSON of Iowa. Mr. Speaker, when my name was called the first time I did not hear it, and the second time I was examining some papers and my name was passed before I coidd answer. The SPE.\KER. Did the gentleman fail to hear his name'.' Mr. HENDERSON of Iowa. I heard it called, but did not answer in time. The SPE.\KER. The gentleman understands the rule. If the gentle- man states that he was in the Hall of the House and failed to hear liis name, his vote will l)e recorded. Mr. HENDERSON of Iowa. I was. The vote of Mr. Hexdekson of Iowa was recorded. Mr. P.\TTERSON of Tennessee. Mr. Speaker, I desire to vote. The SPE.\KER. Was tha gent'.eman in the Hall, and did he fail to liear his name called '.' Mr. PATTERSON of Tennessee. Yes, sir. Tlie vote of Mr. Pattehson of Tennessea was recordtd. coxFEsswys Of A fOLUMnrs. 79 Mr. DOLLIVER. ^Ir. Speaker, althou>,'li paired I have voted to make a quorum. Mr. McKEIGHAN. Mr. Speaker, I was in the Hall and lieanl my name, but did not vote because I did not understand the nieasuif. If it is in order I desire now to vote. The SPEAKP]R. Tlie Ciiair can not entertain the gentleinan's request under the rule. Mr. HUFF. Mr. Speaker, I voted to make a quorum. I am paired with Mr KiuHHS. The SPEAKER. On tliis vote the yeas are 13(5 and the nays 3. No quoru 11 has voted. Mr. O'NEILL of Pennsylvania. I withdraw my vote. Mr. HOLMAN. Mr. Speaker, I ask unanimous consent that another vote be taken, wiiich I have no doubt will show the presence of a quorum. Mr. BURROWS, ilr. Speaker, can not that request Iil- in ulified so as to provide for takini' MciiiImts leads to u waste of tiuK', which is not phiyeil tlut-ks and drakes with liy the ^lombt'iy of our House. An evening sitting is, of course, livelier, though at the outset there are more strangers in the gallery tiian Menil»ers on the floor. It is amusing to note how the ladies crow d the st "^s, and how the Congressman lolls on tlu; sofa in the outer eire. X the clmmlier, or turns round in his chair at his desk, cros,.iig his legs on the desk in front of him, putis his cigar, and, heedless of the fate of the nation, turns round and fascinates the fair ones in the gallery. It is amusing also to see a Member leave his seat during his speech and walk all over the floor, sna[ ping his ting( , and pummelling any desk handy. The offlcial reporter follows him aljout, hook in hand, wherever the Meinhor's el xpienrre leads him, and his friends crowd around him when he stands or walks and vigorously ai)plaud hi..i ; so do the autUi'iice in the gallery Avheu his elofpience ceases, while his friends rush to shake 'ii.s hand. He then walks round and receives congratulations, like a man passing round the hat. The clapping of the desk liils 's very efl'ective as a means of approval or •>' ,ise; i)Ut if the oracor goes too far and a scene is theresuu, ...c noise is too nuicli even for the American IIvward for their \txbor" I was also nmused by another gentleman in a discussion about some Bills. He jumped up, and rushing over to where his opponents sat, he shouted at them, "r«///./ 3o»p_you— you — you — you — you — you — you?" (and with dreadful emphasis) " I've reported your little Bills!" Then there wore cries of " Go ahead ! Vote ' vote ! vote ! vote ! " nnd to crown the gentleman's vehemence he cried out r'?peatcdly, "I demand a division I" (Chorus) : " Pull him down ! " " I demand a division I " " Pull him down T" " I demand a division ! " " Pull him down ! " And he refused to leave off until the eagle-topped toast- ing fork was brought into play once more. A veritable pandemonium is this Parliament ! Fascinatinff to me, who have spent so much time in studying every detail of our own Parliament, which I have not the slightest doul»t would prove just as strange and funny to the American visitor, if like, me he sees the ridiculous side of everything, even of such an august assemblage as that of the legislators of a nation. Privacy is unknown in America. Everyone there, fr. m the President in the White House to your Chinese washerman in ANGr.OPHOItlA. coxFEssio.vs rr a couwnrs. m his lixundry, is accoH.sil)l(' to all. f have visited hotli witli Itss tlitticulty tlian I would I'XiX'rit'iK'C in apjiroai-liiiig Brown, .Tones or Robinson in this country. I lore the Itusines.) man's time is liis own, and you must not roh liim of a minute any more than of his che4ue-lM)ok. In Ameriea u business man's time lelonjifs to anyone who ir ly require it. You walk • see him at will, and if iithan can earn a dolhir .iiJst 'i his luith by talking to yoi through the keyhole he will do it, and he is just as THE I'UESIOKXT— IDKAI,. open in giving his time to show you any gracious action. busiest Juan in America, The the THE PllESIDKXT— UEAU President, surrounded by affairs of State, leaves them cid shakes my hand in welcome to his country. I say shakes my hand, for although I apologise for my intrusion (whieli, by the way, was quite unnecessary) and pay him some pleasant com[)liments, Pre- sident Harrison replies only by shaking my hand. I wax el< )quent over the magnificence of the great country over which he pre- sides ; I t(nich upon tiie coming election, and even give him some information of value which I happen to have overheard by accident. I lead him To believe that r am entrusted with secrets G 2 'f u IM IJ 84 cnxFiiSsjoys of a vARicATVHJsr. I)y the English Cubiiiut ul»oiit i\w Bdiring Straits uuil othi-r vexed «» lilt*'!' I iiad taken imo of Ills cii^ars ami lighted it, we had a chat aliout Fleet Stivft and all hi» friend- there. " GueHS, stranger, I'm hereto draw the Jkiti»hers. ' AmurreanH' tlon't understand nie. Thi'y try to draw me, Imt they might just as well try to tlraw one of these wcMulen cigars in my hand. Their sa/casm runs ofi' me like this rain, and I Weei» on smiling. They laugh at the liri..-her9 journeying thousands of miles to see this place, just as the Knglish smih- a' the Americans pilgrimaging to Stratfor'- on-Avon. ^Vhy, it's re.' eheap ti- find natives round lure wnove lived all their lives within earshot of the KiJIs and never seen them yet I " We compared notes — American and Knglish and parted. At the hotel to which 1 repaired for the purpc.ie of refreshing the inner man I was waited upon l>y a JIel»e for the first, last and only time while I was in the States. Quick, (piiet and clean — what a relief after MY UUIVKIl. yJiS the coloured gentleman I Hiring a covercii conveyance with two horses and a very intelligent driver, shaped something like his own whip, who was to act as my guide as well as my Jehu, I was driven through the town of wooden houses to an ottice where I bought tickets to pass me to the various places (if interest. The purveyor of this pastel loard hicjked like a Fremh peasant, spoke with an American aci-ent, ••id came fnnn the town of Hudderstield in England. I had no ;^.oul>t the driver had graduate*! in his work fn»ni the perch of a London hansom, and that probaljly the horses had Fli\' HlDDKIiSKIKI.l). f ! 88 t'OXFESSJONS OF A CARICATURIST. been trained at Newmarket. Everything is so very " English, you know," at Niagara, from the wooden Punch to the paste- board man. I Avas informed bj everyone that Niagara would grow upon me. I was rather alarmed to find it growing upon me the moment I arrived, for it was raining in torrents and I had juvenile Niagaras all round my umbrella. I should rather say you grow upon Niagara — at least, for my own part, I felt that if I were left there long enough I should do so. It was the most fascinating sight I ever saw, and I felt as I stood motionless and riveted to the spot I had had enough water to last me for the remaining term of my existence. Everyone, even the clerk of the weather, had arranged tliat my visit to America should be pleasant. Niagara, to Ijc seen at its best, must be viewed on a pouring wet day. I know few of my readers will accept this assertion as a serious fact, but it's true. It is just as true. as the fact that the way to obtain the full flavour of strawberries is to put pepper on them, and that the sole method of fully relishing ham is to use a dash of champagne as a sauce. Tlicre are people who even in this enlightened age vegetate upon the face of the earth and know not these things, and a very great many more who do not know that they ought to select a soakingly wet day to appreciate the Falls of Niagara at their highest value. It is not for the extra bucketful or so of water that you may behold, for that is imperceptible, but for the water you don't see. A fine day is a mistake, and the finer the day the greater the mistake, for the reason that distances appear nearer, and the scene as a picture appears contracted in consequence. But when the rain falls in torrents at your feet, and then gradually NIAOAIU OUOWI.NG UPOX ME. COXFESSIOXS OF A COLUMBUS. 89 disappears in mist, it gives to the Fulls a certain mystery and suggestion of vastness that cannot possibly he experienced by the spectator except upon a thoroughly wet, misty day. Therefore I congratulated myself that I saw Niagara on my first visit at its wettest and best. Had I waited till tiio next day I could have gone to exactly the satne points nt Niagara and seen the same pictures, in water and colour of course, totally different in effect. You ought to allow at least three days instead of three hours to inspect Niagara. The first day ought to be wet, then one fine aying for them, ud suddenly discover that you are in a j-tate of hunger, say five hours after your dinner; but the (udoured gentleman who officiates as cook is snoring, and fifty dollars won't buy you a moutbful of In-eail, so you find that your last state is considerably worse than your first. I have experienced both. T had the good fortune to " strike " an English friend on my journey, and with him I shared a compartment in the Pullman. The overheated state of the cars caused us both to have an unnatural thirst, and we longed for a refreshing draught of air and liquid. Lunch was announced. I was (juickly iu the dining car, and sat down o))positc to an American, wlio had already tackle(; Ms soup and poured out his first glass of dav.i from a quart bottle. Feverishly I seized th<; wine-card. Aly Mil •i II ,!:',! \m Hi i, 9fi COXFt'SSIOys OF A CARICATrHIST. vis-a-vis looked at nie over liis siicctuclos, nnd callefl out to tho " coloured gentleman," " Bring another glass." The glass was brought, and the stranger (I had never seen him before) filled it AMERICAN TRAVELLISQ. KOTHIXG TO EAT. with claret and placed it in front of me. " Thanks awfully I " I said, " but — er— really — er — I am going to order. Don't let me deprive you of your wine." "Why, sir, guess you may order what you like, but you ^M . CO.XFESSIOXS OF A COLlMins. 97 won't got it ! I was eaiijilit once myaelf, fifteen years aj;i). Kean't buy liquor in this State we're strikin' now, 8trau;,'«r. I bring mine along with me now — enough fur two, in case some green traveller crops up. You're heart'ly olcome, sir, and here's your health ! " This is the local legislation ! My feeling of disgust for the %\ A AMKKICAX TliAVKI.MXO. XOTIIIXO TO DKIXK. arbitrary, narrow-minded, parochial parasite .of the law-jobbor was tempered by the generosity of Uie native, and this is only one instance out of hundreds I have experienced of the extreme kindness and (umrtesv of strangers in th(! States. I could not resist this splendid opportunity to tantalise my Scotch fritnd anil fellow traveller. He sat down beside me and I handed him the wine-card. He wiped his fevered brow C. — VOL. M. H h 98 COXFESSIOyS OF A VAHIVATUHIST. and hi'^ parched lips parted in a smile jis he ran his ea<(«'r eye down the list. When he had scanned the names (and prices) I broke in with : " I say, old fellow, champagne to-day ; a magnum of the best —it's my birthday, so hang the expense ' Oh, yes, I know it's a ten-pound note, but I do feel this infernal shaking, noise and heat, and when else would we feel Iwtter able to appreciate a good sparkling 'tall drink' ? I pay, and I insist— you order it and see that we get it ! " My friendly stranger on the other side simply gazed at me without moving a muscle of his face, and said not a word, still I haven't tin slightest iloubt that he was thoroughly eiijoying the joke in his Ameri(;an fashion. My Scotch friend's face brightened up at the prospect of refreshing his parched larynx with a long drink of champagne; but it was difficult to see whether he or the " coloured gentleman " looked the blacker when the latter informed him that the only beverage he could have was ginger ale! Verh. sap.: Never travel on an American railway without your own wine. Surely the railway companies, who justly pride themselves on the way they study the comfort of their travellers, should warn the unwary in time, for it is not everyone who is lucky enough to meet with a good Samaritan as I did. A friend tells me that some of the " coloured geutlemen-in- waiting " on these cars have an eye for business, and when a stranger is victimised by these stupid and selfish laws, they serve up to him Rhine wine out of a teapot as weak tea ! If you doubt the truth of the following, ask any traveller who has rushed through the States at the rate of two hundred and fifty miles au hour to verify it. You sit down to the principal meal of the day in the dining c!ir at say six o'clock. Not happening to be au American, you intend to eat your meal in a reasonable time, say an hour, instead of five minutes. Why hurry 1 What is there to do before retiring to the sleeping cur to be jolted sleeplcssly a'.juut for seven or eight hours ? Nothing ; so take as long as possible over your meal. You leisurely order a wine from the list, and coxfEss/oxs OF A coUM/trs. it is brought, uucorked and i»laietl l»y your Hi.le. Alu-r the soup uikI fish you think you will tako <,'lass No- 1. ''"t no, not a bit of it ! You art' now rushing througli a pnMflainieil State, ami your ghiss ami l)ottle aiv promptly removi'il. Sancho Panza never looked so surprised as you do. To add insult to injury, or rather injury to insult, you are brought that frightful cause of indigestion, "iced water." I have la-en told "by -m^ who knows" never to touch the ice on these railway cars; it is not safe, though for what reason I cannot at the nionicnt recollect. It comes from some wayside cesspool or out of a rusty copper boiler, or is the refrigerated perspiration oti" the railway carriage windows, or something dreadful; anyway, it is unsafe. So you look at it and toy with the nn.vt course on the chance of flying quickly through this detestabh; state of narrow-mindedness and broad absurdity. Your patience is rewarded. You fly past some ooden houses and blazing factories and vulgar advertise- ments of quack medicines, the vendors <»f which forsooth are those who prohibit a weary traveller from aiding digestion by drinking an innocent and harmless beverage. The " coloured gentleman " returns smiling with the bottle and glass. " Guess we 've cut through that State ; this isn't proclaimed." You drink confusion to the priggish provincial faddist whose State we have just passed, and continue your dinner. I am a slow drinker. During my late illness, the illnes-s that caused my trip to America, I had to take all my meals dry — allowed to drink nothing whatcr- -ven a drop of water ; so perhaps it is not unnatural tlia. months of this treat- ment 1 should find a ditHculty in ai..iking before my mcsl is over. So when the above-mentioned incident occurred to me, it so happened that I was in no hurry to raise my glu.«s i< my lips. At last I took it up, but before I could transfer any of its contents to the interior of my throat a dusky hand was placed on mine and the glass was removed. " Sorry, but we're in another proclaimed State now ! " I prayed that one of these tieiidish faddists might enter the car at that moment. I passed a solemn resolution that I would pour all the contents of the cruets down his curseil B 2 m 100 VOXFESSIOXS or A CARICATVRIST. all over the throot ami make hiileous caritatuies of him wine list ! More wooden houses and their wootlen-heittle«l occupants were pa-sst'd, and .it last I was at liberty to have a drink. Ice is not of necessity pure nor win«^ impure. If these ignorant fools are unuhle to drink without proving to tlie world that Nature intended them for leasts, it is no n-oson why they shov' 1 make laws for thei.- betters, particularly for the stranger flying through their country, wH.h they misappropriately caH free. Agttiu I hark back to the laying of railway lines, whuh I repeat we manage liet- ter in Eng- land than they do in the States. The sleeiH-T in hi« borth in tin Ame- rican car is tossed up and down to such an ex- tent that his vocabulary is exhausted in ana*'-?matising the sleepers uuder tlic rails. It doesn't seem as if the Transatlantic lines arc ever going to adopt our thorough system of track-laying. I met a railway cxi.crt on the boat going out who had been to England to inspect officially the Ifiying of a railway, and he assured me that if they were to take up an the tracks in America and relay them in our way it would financially break them, enormously rich as the railway kings of the States are. I must candidly ^\y I don't care about sleeping in those cars. The heat can be avoided by paying extra and having a coupe to yourself, or sharing it with a friend, as I did. My fii-st experience was on that journey from Chicago which I mentioned before. SLEEP (I) rO.YFESSIOys of a fOUWHI'S. 101 and 1 bIioU never foigct it. I IumI ut tlie liwt moment to tike the only Iwrtli left, luul it ImpiR'netl t.> U- n top on.-. I wa» the lost to retire that night, lUul my Htrugglen to ( liml. to my iH.'r«;h were ho ludierous that I was glad tliei-e wore no 8i»e.tatorM. I placed my handhagn, liat-ltoxeH, Ac, one on top of another, and mounted them as cautiously as an a.n)l.at ascending a pyramid of decanters, and scrambled in. 1 then proceeded to .livest myself of my articles of clothing. • noticed that the snoring «>f the gentleman in the Ix-rth underneath grew softer and some- what stifled, an«l as 1 wound up my watch and placed it, as I thought, under the pillow, he jumped fruntically out from In-hind his curtains and went head over heeU among«t ray impn.visetl gteps. Then I l>egau to realise what had hapiH?': 1. I had not understood the mechanism of the anangeiuents, and under the improbsion that I was phicing my clothes, .'-.c, cm the ledge, I was in reality dropping them on to the unfortunate occupant of the nether Iwrth, hence the mutfled sno-ing, and when my forty guinea repeater descended ui>on some uni»rotected iwrtiou of his cmniuni it put the closure on his dreams in a most abrupt n...nner. When you are introduced to an Englishman he invariably invites you to eat something. " You must come and dine with us quietly at home, don't-cher-kn. w," or " I mn-'t rig up a dinner for you at the club some night," &c. A Scotchman sugi,'csts your drinking something— urges upon you the claims of the Mountain iKw ; a Frenchman wishes at once to show you some- thing, the Bois de Boulogne or the Arc de Triomphe ; a (Jcrman desires you to smoke something ; an Italian to buy something ; and an Australian to kill something, l)Ut an American wants an opinion " right: away." " Waal, sur, what do you think of our gre ~e— eat country ? What do you think of this wonderful city '. What do you think of the Amnnican gurl { " This laiter is a question which one is asked in the States morning, noon, and night. To endeavour to etfect a compromise by admitting that she is quite as charming as the English girl, as pretty— though of ^1 M 102 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. course of a aiffcrent type— still equally charming, is a waste of time. You will be met with the commonplace " Get out ! " and B X •< an added oncpiiry, "Now don't you think she's just the most fascinating and lovely creature on this ciirth, and by comparison with your English girls ain't she just sweet ] " h CONFESS 10 XS OF A COLUMBUS 103 My own tactics were simple— I hedged. " Well, you see," I replied to a (^[uestioii similar to the above, " I have met but few as yet of your representative American orirls. To be sure, I have seen your cosmopolitan New York beauty, your Washington diplomat, and your Chicago daughter of Boom, and so on ; but there are yet many fields of beauty unexplored, and I prefer to withhold my opinion till I have had an opportunity of judging from further experience. I am (juite prepared to admit, however, that the general impression made upon an observant Englishman is that American ladies dress better than does the average Englishwoman ; or, at any rate, carry themselves with more grace, and thus show off their gowns to greater advantage." "Correct! That is absolutely true," said a lady to me in Washington, after I had delivered myself of the above stereotyped remark." " Your English girls have awful figures, and they know absolutely nothing about putting on their gowns. Why, my dressmaker in London— the very best— made me laugh till I was nearly sick, by describing to me the stupidity of her English customers. She declares that she positively has to pin on a new dress when sending it home, a label stating : 'This is the front ' ; and one day, when she omitted this precaution, she had a riding- lial»it returned with the complaint that it did not ' set ' correctly. The lady had put it on wrong side foremost." This was told me in all seriousness by one of the brightest and most intelligent ladies I met during my stay in America, who, I am quite sure, was firmly convinced of the truth of the statement made by the dressmaker. It happened that one day I had been hard at work in my rooms at the hotel, and as tlie daylight tailed, before turning on the uurestful electric light, 1 lit a cigarette and threw myself into the rotking-chair to enjoy a peaceful quarter of an hour, when a knock came to the door and a card was brought to nie, " JNlixs Liza Prettyville Himniermaii, the E-i-dminiir." Another interviewer! Had the card been Patrick McKee O'Fleister, the Kcominer might disappear with the setting sun for au"ht 1 cared, but the name struck nie as Iteiiig pretty (iady 104 COXFESSIOyS OF A CARICATURIST. interviewers generally have pretty numea). It occurred to nie that it would he interesting to see if the name fitted the owner, so I said I would see her. It fitted. "Sorry to disturh you," with a delightful accent and musical voice. A pretty interviewer ! A pretty American girl with a musical voice ! A vara ain'g. I ordered up tea for two, " You know, sir, what I am going to ask you. What do you think of the American girl 1 " "That," I said, " I'll tell you on one condition, Miss Simmerman, that you first tell mo what you think of her yourself." " Ah ! " she replied, with a laugh, " that is not so easy a task — we do not see ourselves as others see us." "No, Miss Simmerman, and even when one listens to strangers, or reads their impressions, one is apt to form a wrong estimate of oneself. Let me therefore ciiaiige the question, and ask, what do you think of the English girl ? " " Oh ! I think she is delightful." " How would you describe the typical English fjirl { " " Well, she is very tall and thin, and quiet, and has a nice voice, lots of hair, and walks well." " xVnd talks seldom ? " " Yes, she is not as vivacious as the American girl, but she is more sincere and thorough, and a deeper thinker, and not so nmch merely on the surface as our girls an-."' " But," 1 put in, " you say, do you not, that she does not know how to dross her hair or wear her clothes pioperly '. " "Yes, that is so, and it is noticeable more particularly in her headgear, wliicli she wears well over her eyes ; in fact the higlier she is in the social scale, the more tilted is her hat. One thing the American girls do envy is the healthy, fresh, clear romple.xion of the Euglisii girl. The green of the grass and the splendid conqilexioii of your girls are the two things which fii-st strike the American visiting England. Both of tiiese, we are told, are A LADY IXTEHVIEWKU. I ! 1 COXFESSIOXS OF A VOLVilRUS. 105 "-.^^-v - due to the climate, and this doubtless is a fact, for when an American girl has been in England a short time the colour comes t^ her cheeks, only to disappear on her return to lier native land. Another thing we admire is the English girl's figure. American girls are either slim as compared with English girls, or else very stout. We have not the happy medium of the daughters of England." " Pardon me, but is not the pale-faced daughter of America a little spoilt {" " From an English point of view, yes. American men's one idea besides work is the worship of American women. You say anything you like about America or Americans to Jonathan, but you must give nothing but praise to the American woman." iliit we in England love our women folk also." " All ! yes, but there is not such a contrast between an Englishman and an English lady as there is between an American and his wife. Our ' (^ui Vive ' women are so much superior to the men." " I will admit that." " Very well, then, I will ailmit that American girls are some- what awkward with their arms, and have no idea what to do with them. As they walk they stick their elbows out, and when they stand still they hold their arms exactly the way the dressmakers pose when haviui; a dress tried on." " 1 suppose they have little use for their anus '." " Well, as a fact, American girls tlo not busy themselves or enjoy work as English giils do. Their fathers, hus1)ands, ai <1 brothers work, and they look on."' " Yes, I have noticed that all over the States. Women t Ik, men listen, but when men talk it is dollars, dollars, dollars. The gill i« bored, and sighs for London or Paris, until slu- is uld enough to talk dollars herself." N 'by'' A SKETCH AT " DKL's." n, ■f IS mid 106 COSF^SSIOXS OF A CARWArVRIST. Ill face, I notice, the Araorican girl is quite distinct from her En<^lish sister. I notice a difference in the way the upper lip sweeps down from the outer edge of the nostril ; but more notii;eable still is the fact that the cheek-bones of the American girls are not so prominent, and the smooth curve down the cheek to the chin is less broken by smaller curves. In social life the American girl charms an Englishman by her natural and Mnaffected manner. Our English girls are very carefully brouiiiit up, and are continually warned that this thing or that is "1 I form." As a result, when they enter Society they are more or less in fear of saying or doing something that will not be considered suitable. As a matter of fact they are not lacking in energy or vivacity, but these qualities are sujijtressed in public, and only come to the surface in the society of intimates. American girls Irom childhood upwards are much more independent; they have much more free- dom and encouragement in coming forward than ours. The vivacity and liberty expected of an American sirl in social intercourse are considered — as I say — bad form for our girls. The observant stranger will, if an artist, also be struck by the fact that the foce of an American girl, as well as the voice, is often that of a child ; in fact, if one were not afraid of being misunderstood, and there- fore thought rude, one could describe the American girl better by saying that slie has a baby's fixce on a ..Oman's liody than by any word-painting or brush-painting either. The large forehead, round eyes, round cheeks, and round li[)s of the baby ninain; and, as the present fasliicm is to dress the hair ornauientnlly after the fashion of a doll, the picture is comiJetc. The eyes of an American girl are closer together than those of her English cousin, and aie suialler ; her hands are smaller, too, and so are her feet, but neither are so well-shaped as the English girls. Let me follow the American girl from her babyhood upwards. The fi-st is tlie baby, plump, bright-eyed, and with more ( OXFESSJOKS OF A VOLVMHUS. 107 expression than the average English child ; a little oltler, see lier still plump, short-legged, made to look stout by the double coverins of the leg bulging over the l)ix)ts ; older, but still some years from her teens, she is still plump from the tip of her toe to her eyebrow, with an expression and a manner ten years in advance of her years, and you may take it from this age onwards the American girl is always ten years in advance of an English girl ; next the school- girl ; then that ungainly age " sweet seventeen." She seems twenty- seven, and thenceforwards her plumpness disappears generally, but remains in her face, and the cheeks and chin of the l>aby are still with her. Suddenly, ten years before th time, and in one season, happens what in the life of an English matron would take ten. The l»ubble bursts, the baby face collapses, just as if you pricked it with a pin, and slie is left sans teeth, sans eyes, sans beauty, sans everything. This is the American girl in a hurry, and these remarks only ai)ply to the exhr ' New York, th" sensational Cii! the auxiou'' Washington, and .u- over-strained child of that portion of America in a hurry. 1 have not quite made up my mind as to whether I like the American girl or her mother the Ix'tter. They are both vivacious und charming, but of course the younger is the prettier, and in point of attractiveness scorci more than her mother. It is true, as I have said, that American givl^* do " go off" very soon. I must confess that one evening at dinner. AX AMKUICAX MKNU. i^i \S\ u M ^' li 108 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. surrounded l>y charming young Americans , I was bold enough to say so. It was a very inopportune moment to have made the remark, for seated next to me was a remarkably fine and handsome young lady, who informed me that she had five sisters— I think it was five — and I was assured by our host that they were all of them as " elegant " as my fair neighbour, and that the mother looked as young a^ the daughtei-s. At the reception, after dinner, I was introduced to the mother, and found the exception that proved the rule. We had quite a discussion upon the staying powers of the American beauty ; but despite all arguments I am convinced, through my own observations in England and Anurica, that American ladies do not wear so well as English. No doubt this is due, in some measure, to the climate, and in a greater degree to the mode of living. However, before dealing with this rather ticklish subject, I had better finish what 1 had to say about the evening in question, or this particular young lady may take my remarks as personal. AVe discussed age and wear and tear ful nauseam. I felt rati.cr aggrieved by being put down by those members of the Press who had discussed my personal failings for the benefit of their readers, as several years older than I really am (all due, no doubt, to my pre- mature baldness). 80 I asked for the secret of the American hair-preserving elixir, and my charming companion assured me that she had really and truly discovered an infiillible composition for producing hair ! This she promised to send to me, and upon my return to England I received the fol- lowing charming letter, which I publisli for tlic benefit of all those whose hair, like my own, is l)eeomiug, to quote an American paper, "a little depleted on the top ot the dome of thought." I have not yet tried the remedy, but I intend to do so, and when I appear MY PORTRAIT — IS THE Fl'TVUE. COXFESSIOX.'< OF A t'OLUMHVS. 109 t again on the American platforms I shall prohal.ly rival Paderewski, wlio owes a great deal of his success and fortune to his "thatch." The following is copyright: " LIKA JOKO HA III RESTORER." " Mv DEAR Mr. Furnace, " Fearing you would think me lacking in a sense of humor I have hesitated to send you the receipt you asked for, but, being an American. I fear it would not lie true to my country's principles to allow such an opportunity for promoting growth to pass unheeded. Two tablespoonsful alcoliol, Two tablespoonsful flour of sulphur, Two taplespoonsful castor oil. One pint boiling water. " Put in bottle, shake well and allow it to stand three days before using. Rub well into the scalp every night. . , , , • , " Here it is, and I trust soon to receive the pen and mk sketch in proof of its unrivalled success. , "Very smcerely, " Brooklyn, "April 20th, 1892." I suppose my Ijenef actress, if I disclosed her name, would be worried to death by the imdtitudiiious proprietors of shiny- surfaced " domes of thought." Notice she calls me a furnace! Too suggestive of the sulphur ! alcohol ! ! boiling water ! ! ! I mu^t confess that it was with some trepidation I accepted an invitation to a reception of the Twelfth Night Club of New York— a club for ladies only, which invites one guest, a man, once a month -no other nicndu-r of male sex is allowed within the precincts of the club. I survived. Next day the papers announced the fact under the following characteristic American head-lines : — TWELFTH NIGHT GIRLS REJOICE. FURNISS GETS A WARM QREETINO. CARICATURIST TALKS TO TWELFTH NIGHT WOMEN. ROTUND ENQLISHMAN TELLS HIS EXPERIENCES IN HIS BREEZY WAY. i ,'i' 110 COSFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. I was pleased to rend that tlie lady reporter considered that I " We the courtesies with the grace of a well-bred Englishiuau and with less emharrasameiit than the average man evinces at being the only one of his sex present upon these occasions (!). According to one of the iron l)ound rules of this club the guest of honour is the only man admitted, and as such Mr, Furniss was received with enthusiasm. If he could have projected his astral I AM EXTKRTAINED AT THE TWELITH NIGHT CLUB. body to the other end of the n.om, and from there have sketched himself as he turned off autographs to the pleading group of womon, it would not have made the least funny picture in ^is collection." I agree iii this latter part, for the whole affair struck me as intensely funny, and nut at all appalling — in fact, I .spent a very delightful afternoon. A lady whose dress the papers described "s " a costume of brown brocade and lace " played COXFi'SSIO.yS OF A cou'Mitrs. in beuutifully. Another '• drossod in grey satin ami I'hiH'oti " sang charmingly. A third who wore " a skirt of hhit-k and a primrose bmlii-e triiuinod with hice " rcuitod with much tali-nt, and a galaxy of the holies of Now York, ladies of society, and professional stars of the pen, the platform and the stage combined to make feel at home. I had to acknowledge in thanking thera that although I perhaps failed to draw American women, American women had (Certainly succeeded in drawing nie. After this pleasant experience it was with a light heart I accepted a similar invitation when shortly afterwards I visited another city. Again I was to be entertained at a Ladies' Club, but to my surprise I found it, not as I did the New York Club, modestly uccommodutod in a large flat, but a club having its own imposing building — as important as any in the West Kud of London. Carriages lined the street, and a crowd surrounded the entrance. Still, I was not unhappy. The entertainment would surely be proi)ortionately long, and I would have less to say, I was, as at the other club, unpre[>ared, preferring to pick up some idea for a reply during the entertainment prepared to honour me. The hall and staircases were crowded with a most fashionable gathering ; two large rece[)tion-rooms — with open foldin«f dooi-s — were well filled with ladies seated. The President met me at the door and escorted me to a small phitform in the centre of the rooms, on which were a reading-desk and a glass of water! After formally and briefly introducing me, she asked if any man was present. It so happened that in a corner behind the piano one was found and immediately ejected, and I was left alone to begin ! My first impulse was to make a rush for that corner behind the piano, but rows and rows of seated dazzling beauty formed a barricade I could not negotiate. I had in the few words of introduction caught tlie nani(> of Sir Edwin Arnold and others who had stood where I did at tluit moment. Yes, — but they were doubtless warned beiorehand of whiit was expected of them, uiid tlirrefore came prepared. I, on the other hand, stood there " Habbergasted " ! I confess I never felt so cornered. No, if I had l)een cornered — but there 112 COyFESSIOXS Of A CARlVATlRlsr. » '» T on a platform to fat-e the music ! No, not the music, — thi-re was none ! I had to speak — about what ? for how long ? to whom ? I made a j)lunge. I confessed honestly I was unprcparetl. I explained that I had accepted the invitation on my arrival — believing I wsus to b«! entertained, not to be the entertainer. RKCEITIOX AT A I.ADIKs' (MB. Thut I had iiouo of the flattering jilirast's ready of those who had stood liefore them on (similar occasions, and furthermore I did not believj in such platitudes. This I (jui(;kly saw was my key. " Now, ladies, as I am face to face with this unique gathci-ing of American women — and aloue— I have at last a cJiaiKe I have long waited for. 1 want to tell what I t-eally think of you. 1 respect you for your cleverness. To roll off empty compliments COXf'KSS/OXS Of A cou'Mitrs. ii:{ 1^/ ni"l— if i could— jxH'ticiil platitudoH also with my toii<;u»' in my chtrk, a« otlit-rs have (loin-, wo-.ild Im- to insult your iiit(>lli You only wi»*;t to hear me speak on one suhjeet, youi-selvert, the Amt>ri<-aii woman, and eomimre her with the Hnower. That is wliy the English man is suprior to the American. Now, laJies, you, with your pretty faces, your chonning manners, your vitality, and shall I say it ? your worldliness, have boys who are — well, equal to what you consider the English girl to be. Of course it is always unsafe to generalise, but as you ^p^-^-v^" genendisc yourseb'cs -^nd sweepingly assert tiiat the English girls are born idiots, I want you to understand from a laan who has not come here to tell you lies, but to tell you the truth, that if America is really to be the great country of the future, the sooner you begin to model yourselves on the English girls the k'tter." I said a great deal mori", Imt I shall not confess anything further about the charm in ff Ariicrican ladies just now. We English have an impression that all American men, women, and children are politicians, and it is the dream of every youthful American one day to occupy the White House. But in the great contest of 1896 there was something deeper than mere ambition. When I went over in the steamer I travelled with some overworked, big city merchants who were sacriticing their holiday in Europe to vote for Mr. ]\IcKinley ; the little children wore the national flag in their buttonholes ; and the last evening we had at sea a lady called me on to the A DKKAM OF THK WHITK IIOUSK. COXFA'.SS/oys Of A COUMttl'S. 115 ok at th.. iK'tiutifuI j^ohhn Hunsct ! It is » symbol that America is for \nM." And as \\v hmkotl lM>liiiiil at the st-a-mist we luul jHWHcd tliroujjh, «lie found in tliut i\u\ gyniUd of Milvcr ! In fart, for a fon-igncr, I had had i|uitt' enough of the Presidential .Uction iM-foie the steamer arrived at the White Star Line landing-stage. I crossed the Herring Pond in chill OctoInT, so as to Ik- in New York for the hwt stages of the Presidential trontest. The last stages of these elections, although exciting and interesting from a politi(tal iM)int of view, are not to he eomparetl with the earlier scenes for etioi-t. Koc tli.' purjiost; of sketching scenes the artist should l»e there in the heat of summer, and in the lu'ii*^ of the Conventional eontrovei-sies. At the time of Itrilliant fiui shine, when in that year America was so \\\\\v\i i-ii vrldruir in England, when Yale was rowing so pluekily at Henley, when Haverford College was playing our schools at our national game, when the Ancient and Honourable Artillery Company of Boston w«'re iK'ing f»Hed right royally in the ( Hd Country, when liondon was fuller of American visitoi-s tluui at any other time it was then that all the fun of political affairs was taking place in the United States for the tight for Gold r. Free Silv. r. It is at the two gigantic Conventions at which the rival candidates are nominated that the artist finds material for his pencil, the satirist for his pen, and tiic man of the world food for reflection. Hy all accounts, these (Jouventions bafHe descrip- tion. Kverv thing is sacrificed to spectacular effect. They take place in huge buildings decorated with banners, emblems of all kinds, .startling devices, transparencies, and ]»ortraits of tliL canolitical senuon to a close, and the (piartette again came to the front, sang a few more political adaptations of popular songs, and the chairman announced tiie next siteak«>r, a smart young lawyer of the Hebrew persuasion. After him, more songs and more speakers of all kinds, and at half-past one the meeting came to an abrupt conclusion. The crowd vanished like magic, the hall was empty, the lunch hour . t was over When night fell, oratory was again rampant in all parts of the city. At every street corner one .saw a waggon decorated with a few Chinese lanterns and covered with portraits of the candi- dates. In front the orator shouted to the casual mob, and at the tail end his comi>anion distributed campaign literature. One crowd exhausted, the waggon drove on, and gathered more listeners at another stand. In this way, in strolling through the streets, one was met with a fresh line of argument at every turning. Republicans, Democrats, Prohibitionists, Socialists, etc., all had their perambulating orators. It was as if all the Sunday Hyde Park orators had taken to waggons, and wi-re driven about through all ijuarters of the town, from Whitechapel to Kensington. At one street corner a Catholic priest was rallying his Irish compatriots to Tammany and Bryan, and urging them to shake ott" the fetters of the bloated British capitalist ; and at Mi 118 C OX F ESS IONS OF A CARICATURIST. the next a Temperance orator was pleading the hopeless cause of the Prohibitionist party. The tami»aign was not so much a fight between Silver and Gold as between Sound Money and Sound l.ungs. Bryan's Campaign. Number of speeches delivered ... ... ... • 501 Cities and towns spoken in ... ... ... ... 417 States spoken in ... ... ... ... ... 29 Miles travelled since tl-e nomination 17,395 Number of words spo ki a on the stump (estimated) 737,000 Wh.\t Vji /AN Did in One Day. Travelled from .. - ' .onville. 111., to Alton, 111., and spoke in seven towns and cities. Slept eij^ht hours. Talked seven hours. Miles travelled, 110. Speeches made, 9. Persons who heard him, 60,000. It would be impertinent on tlie part of any English journalist to use the ordinary language at his command to describe that scene. Let him copy the headings of those who have given the people of the United States a language of their own : ARMY OF LOYALISTS A Hundred and Twenty Thousand Men March with Old Glor>- up Broadway. GRANDEST PARADE IN ALL HISTORY. The Great Thoroughfare a Tossing; Sea of Red, White, and Blue and Gold. Cheers and Music fill the Air with Melody. Legions Marshalled for the Honor and Safety of the Union and the Prosperity of the People. PATRIOT ARMY'S GLORIOUS MARCH. WARRIORS OF PEACE, BATHED IN GOLDEN SUNLIGHT, PASS THROUGH STAR-SPANGLED LINES. PARADES RECORD-MAKING FIGURES. Number in Line, 12/5,000. Miles long (estimated), 14. Parade started at 10 a.m. Parade finished at (>.2() pin. Number of spectators (estimated), 1,200,000. IVJ CONFESSIONS OF A CO LU MRUS. 119 No pen or pencil could give any idea of the intense feeling and excitement over that election. To realise its etlect one must have seen the faces of business men in cities like New York — faces pallid with care, eyes restless with inquiry and uncertainty, mouths twitching with anxiety. To them Bryan spelt ruin. You could read that in the faces of every one of responsihility. We had huge meetings and long speeches from morning to midnight. In the churches the pulpits were tunud into hustings, and for the moment ministers preached the Gospel and McKinlev in equal proportions. ^liles of sound money men parade -streets, and at night the rivers north and east were givei'. to political aquatic demoustnitions. Huge banners flauLied the sky, and tons of party literature strewed the floors of every house ; but the whole story was better told and more impressively demonstrated in the faces of those united in commerce — 99 per cent, of the better class in the city. They looked worn and anxious ; their words were words of confi- dence, but expressed with an uncertainty and reserve which were significant. One day I met a prominent citizen — an ardent Republican — and I asked him how he thought the elections were goiiiir. He said, " I feel like the old woman IngersoU tells of, who did not believe in ghosts, but was terribly frightened of them." This reminds me that the Free-thinking lugersoll had been stumpinw the country, and clergymen, such as Dr. Parkhurst, had l)een turning their pulpits into political platforms to bring their influence to bear on the voters. To all those who were in New York during that momentous time the .scene will linger in their memories when the -mies of Bryan and McKinley liave ceased to interest them. And the curious thing is that this is no exaggeration. To see, jis I did, thousands of well-dressed city men marching past at quick time, with martial tread, to the music of innumerable bands, from ualf-past ten in the morning till seven o'clock at night, is a performance that Englishmen can hardly realise, and one that they will certainly never see in their own country. I ' i till 11 ' :l| I i 120 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. Its ver)' seriousness, simplicity, and impressive monotony made it all the more striking. Not a soldier to l>e seen, no triumphal cars, no break in the stream of respectability mechanically moving throughout the day. In England, on public demonstra- tions, one goes to look at the crowd, but here the crowd was the procession. This political fever seemed to work up the enthusiasm of every man, woman, and child when the march was over, on, I may tell you, a Ijright, hot Indian summer's dav ' ^ November. vJrowds of the paradcrs continued to march in smaller squads i AFTKH THE (iUKAT PAKADE : "AM I TO SIT OX AX OKDIXAUY SEAT TO-XIGHT ? " through the side streets for their own enjoyment, and over- flowed into hotel lol)l)ies and restaurants, covered with emblems, flags, gold bugs, and chrysandiemums, which were brought into the city by thousands for the occasion. And then some humour was imported into the serious business of the day. One youth strolled into a cafe, and when he was offered a chair by the waiter, he drew himself up, and said, " Am I to sit on an ordinary seat to-night ? " They blew their tin horns, rattled their rattles, and waved their Hugs in and out of every place until late at night, and they were still singing and demonstrating 1 i * COXFESSJOyS OF A CO/J\\//ltS. 121 in the morning, but witli tliat extrmndhiiiry cominrn-scnsc which is churacteristie of Anioricuns, the Hrvanites and the .Me U aileyite.s shaking hands and setting aliout tiieir buwintss with redoiilded energy, having another crisis in the country to record as a landmark in the history of the repubUc. On the last day of juy first visit to America I found myself in the head depot of the New York detective force. The courteous and talented presiding genius of that establishment had left his busy office to show n-.e over their museum, a chronicle of the city's (trime, and as I was tl'anking him afterwards, he said : " Is there anything I can do fo. you ?" " Well," I replied, " I have seen the best side of life in New York, now I should like to see the worst." " The very worst ? " " The worst you have." The worthy officer eyed me up and dmvn as if he were going to measure me for a suit of clothes. " Very well," he replied, seemingly satisfied with my resolute bearing and un. " I say. "No, thank you," he replies. {Hi's nervt doosn't want fortifying, evidently!) Mine does, so I have a Manhattan as I hastily pencil a line to my wife to be sent to England in ease I do not leave by the Mtijcstic next day. "Now, then, what';j your programme?" said I in an airy way, as wc reached the street. "Trust to me," said the "'te?," " interfere with no one, and keep your pencil and your notebook in your i)oeket till I tell I li \ii\ if 1 I J. 1 122 VONFESSIOyS OF A CARICATURIST. you. Koep your mouth shut and your ears and eyes open, and a8 they say iii the pantomime, 'you shall see wliat you shall see.' " We were soon whizzing along the elevated railway, and I was trying to impress my guide with stirring tales of midnight meanderingrt in the greater city, London. I left out any mention of Dublin,'* for my companion rejoiced in a truly Milesian cognomen, and still bore strong evidence of his native country in his accent, mi.xed with a good dash of American. "Guess you're a pretty 'cute Britisher, and shure it's the likes of you I'm mighty glad to strike in this ^rcnienjious city!" I felt soinewiiat flattered by this encouraging condescension, and I admit now that I did not feel particularly happy at the idea of bearding the thieving lion, with his hyena-like satellites, in his deii. I felt something like a criminal under arrest myself, and I am sure that everyone in the car must have thought that the worhl-famud detective force of New York had added another notorious catch to the many they have so cleverly made. As we passed close to the windows of the houses, and actually looked into the rooms on the second and third stories, Detective Jonathan H. O'Flaherty would point out to me a room here and there which was being watched by his comrades, and aa we approached nearer and nearer to the purlieus of the poor, he positively detected seated in rooms in shady hotels which harboured thieves a forger, a housebreaker, and other notabilities of a worse character. Indeed, I would not have been surprised had the arm of the law been literally stretched out at any moment, and one of these gentlemen transferred from his seat through the window and deposited by my side in the carriase. America is a free country. England, Me are assured, is not ; but the fact that the police are allowed to arrest any- body they please without showing any authority whatever is a curious contradiction which the Britisher may be pardoned for smiling at. COyf£SSIOXS OF A t'OLUMItUS. 123 Detective Jonathan H. O'Fluherty and I had a rather warm argument upon this point, and 1 must say that in the end I had to admit tliat there was a oood deal to be saiil in favour of tile utter want of liberty to which Americans have to submit. " For instance," said my guide, " to-morrow is a jiublie holiday. At daybreak I guess we'll be afther locking up every thief, vagabond, and persons suspected of being varmint of tliis description in this great city, and it's free lodgings they'll have till the holiday's played out. In that way crime is avoided, and the truth of the saying proved that ' prevention is better than cure.' " " But there is an unpleasant feeling that this autocratic po\ jr may lead to mistakes. In Eng- land the police must have a warrant," I said. " Guess, stranger, if we waited for a warrant the varmint'd vanish, and there'd be the divil to pay. No, sir, I reckon we Amurricans don't wait for any- thing—we just take the law into our own hands right away. A short time ago I was sitting itamans. enjoying some singing in one of the .«aloons in the Bowery here, and right through in front of me sat two foreigners with the most perfect false whiskers on that I ever clapped eyes on. That was enough for me. I went outside, sent one of my men iiii assistance, and then sent in a theatrical lady's card to one of the gentlemen. The bait was taken, and he came out. We arrested him straight away, and made him send in for his friend, who came out, and we nailed him ns well. Turned out after- wards that they had come to kill one of the actresses — love affair, revenge, and all that sort of thing. In your country guess you'd have arrested them after the murder ; we had them before. There was no harm done, but they got a fine of a few- dollars." 11 ;j: 124 coxFEssioyy of a CAit/cATnusr He j>ut his Ij.iiul sudduiily upon mine as he said this. For a second I thought that he imagined my wliiskers wen; false, and that this was oidy a phmt to hx-k me up ! It was evident my nerves were liecoming unstrung, and as soon as we were in the street my good-humoured and excellent guide toM me that in .•mother five minutes we would hegin our vovage of discovery. We jiassed through the Chinese ijuarter, dtiwii Mott Street, and I eoulil not but feel a pang of sympathy for these aliens, looked upon by the Americans as vermin. It is a strange war, this between John Chinaman and Sambo for the vassalage of the States ; but in poor England, the asylum of the alien, all nationalities have an eijual chance, and the nigger, the Chinaman, the Jew, and the German can walk arm in arm, whether in the scjualid streets of Spitalfields or the aristocratic precincts of Pall .Mull. liut there is a war ffoiiift on in London b 'tween two races of different colour, undisturlied and unseen, for the gory scenes of warfare are enacted in the bowels of the earth. It is to the deatli, and has been going on for years, the comliatants lieing the red cockroach and the blaeklteetle. Both came to our shores in ships from distant lands. Tiio bhukbeetles were first, and had possession of underground London, but the cockroaches followed, disputed the right of territory, and thus the war l)egan. The latest re|)orts from the seat of war assert that the cockroaches are victorious all along the line as far as Regent's Park. But this is digression. I merely made use oi the cockroach simile because it occurred to me as I traversed the Italian <|uarter and gazed upon its denizens, an occasional accidental rub against one of whom made me shudder. Innocent they may be, but they don't look it, and when I was taken up a court — a horrible, dark, d;ink ciil-de-sar — ; > shown the identical spot which a few wi'cks beforehand had been the scene of a murder, I maile a sketch in the quickest time on X'ecord, keeping one eye on the ghastly place and the other on a window where a ragged blind was pulled quickly and nervously b;uk, and a wliitc face peered suddenly uut and as suddenly retreated. 1 did the same, pulling my detective friend after me. I ■ 11 WIlEKi; THK IIKKIt WAS 1)0XK ! 1} . i voyFKssioxs OF A couMhrs. 127 1-^ It is said tliat one-half the worl . (loe« not know how thf other half lives, but not the ninety-ninJi part knows how it «lit'.s. In the vicinity of Mulhorry Beml I was shown a housi in whith another bloody deed had recently U-en perjwtriited -another cockroach killed. The blood was as fresh and visible as that of Rizzio in Ilolyrootl Palace, but this cxeited no curiositv ainonpremc, too I " Next comes a youth with a crutch. " One of the cleverest thieves in the city. No one suspects him— guess his crippling is his fortune." J should like to tell you of other interesting people 1 saw, of my perambulations through Ba.xter Street, the Jewish quarter, (jf the visits to the joss house, opium joint, gro<*ery stores, halls of dazzling delight, and dens of iniquity I made that night. I had my sketches and notes before me to continue this cliajtter, when I received a New York paper. In it 1 discovered an illustrated article headed " In His Own B..tck Art," purporting to be an account of my visit to the slums with a detective. After reading it I laid down my pen and took up my scissors, I felt it impossible ) disclose any more. The rest I leave to my shadower ill I : ' !■ I i 138 COXFESSIO.YS OF A CARICATURIST. on timt occusioii, ivpmlu.iiij^ iilso some of the skctehcM this " faithful copiHT-ffistt'iiea distorter of features " set down, with IN A.V (ll'IIM JOINT. many tlianks to him and a sincere wish that his headache is better. "I.v His Own Black Art. " Mr. Furniss writes very cleverly, .t ' ould be said. He writes good Londo.. .riglish, for he, like many of ' the infeniiilly good fellows ' of Fleet Street, 'don't you know," l)elieves that the ver- nacular is only written in its virgin purity in that city. However, let that pass, g^ /^sawr^^^ . " But there was one thing that I *"^iy >^k//\^S^ ■ couldn't consent, even as his friend, to overlook. Mr. Furniss was determined to go ' slunmiing.' He had letters to several members of the police department, but the friends who liad given these valuable credentials had evidently .selected only the captains of the highly respectable piecincts. Of course, they could not imagiiio that Mr. Furniss would want to visit the joss house and opium ig— I coyFA'ssw.Ys or a couMiirs. 139 jointH of DiitiiUown. Nolxvly wmilil, to look at liiiii. And yi't, in hiH tirt'lfss ntuily of An ■ ' clmractJ-r, lie |H-iU'ti'ut<'he most interesting personage in Albany is Captain B , the harbour master. I call him the Receiver-General of Australia, for he is the first inhabitant of Australia to receive and welcome the new comer, and he is also the last to take farewell of the parting guest. Captain B has held the post of harbour master at King George's Sound, Albany, foi over thirty years, and, though over seventy years of age, he seems equal to many years of service yet. Certainly a stranger gets a good impression of the country if he takes Captain B as a sample Australian, and one wonders, when one sees this fine old salt run up the gangway with the agility of a youth of eventeen, whether all Australians are ecpially active. Chatting with Captain B , I complimented him on his youthful physique. " Why, sir," said he, " I can climb up anything. I can board the ship hand-over- hand on a rope and never touch the side with my feet." This seemed pretty good for a man of over seventy, but I did not regard it as an exaggeration. Captain B remembered his father and uncle, both naval men, going to the funeral of King George IV. His reminiscences included the experiences of sing- ing in a choir at the coronation of the Queen, and also when Her Majesty was married. AVlien the Captain ran down the gang- way shouting orders to his men, the strength of his lungs was iis evident as the agility of his body. Anyone who took this worthy official as a typical Australian would be greatly deceived. Diminutive in stature and voluble in speech, he is in every way the reverse to the average-born Australian. The Australian is generally tall, not to say lanky, and by no means communicative. An American walked into the smokina-room of a P. ami 0. ship outward bound, Jis it was leaving St. George's Sound, threw AUSTRALIA. 135 himself down on a sofa, stuck his feet on to a table, spit, and said to those in the saloon : " \ thank my stars I am clean out of that one-horse town Ar,any!" Another traveller who had joined the ship at the same town and who lay huddled up in a corner more dead than alive after a severe attack of typhoid followed by pleurisy, remarked : "Well, you must admit, sir, it is the healthiest place in Western Australia." " Co-rect, stranger — co-rect," replied the Yankee. " Co-rect ! guess that's why I have cleared out. This darned Albany is 90 per cent, of climate and oi 'y 10 per cent, of business." PI-KEl'Y HOLLOW. I visited Albany on my return journey. It struck me that in "Sleepy Hollow" 90 per cent, of the natives were in bed and the other 10 per cent, were dozing on the seats on the parade. When I started for the Antipodes the place that I looked forward to seeing more than any other was Western Australia. It is the part of Australia most v.iscussed at home, where it is being boomed with all the iirtifice of the promoter's gang. Every ship brings living cargoes to Western Australia ; every newspaper is full of Western Australia. On the front page are shipping advertisements otTering every facility for quick and cheap transit ; in the centre of thy paper leading articles appear to ventilate the wonders of the West ; towards the end of the 1 '» il!li . 136 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. papor — in the City news — thousands eagerly scan tlie Stock Exchange for prices of Western Australia, There is another column still in which one might find interesting news concerning Western Australia — the deaths column. When I arrived in Australia the one place that I determined nothiug should drag me to was Western Australia. No, not all the gold in the mines would get me to that pestilential plague spot. Here is a place boomed " at home " and abroad at the time of Queen Victoria's Jubilee, when nightly speeches were made at banquets glorifying the charms of the speculators' Eldorado, Western Australia — when columns were written of its boasted civilisation, and cheers were given when " Advance Australia " was roared out, and bumpers were drunk by the stop-at-home wirepullers. Just read the following, published at the moment : — "A WESTERN PLAGUE SPOT. " How Fever is Eaoing in Perth. "Various visitors to Perth have expressed their opinions upon the awful conditions, from a sanitary point of view, of the Western city, and almost daily news is tolegraphed across of the ravages from typhoid, pneumonia, and other diseases in consequence. "That the state of affairs is in no way exaggerated by prejudiced outsiders is proved by a full-page account in a recent issue of the Perth Herald, and which is headed : ' Typhoid Fever in Perth ; An Alarming Situation ; The Position of Affairs Grows Worse.' "The opinions of doctors, nurses, experts, and others are published, all going to show that public and private action is almost in every case as if the one aim was to increase the death-rate to the highest possible figures. "The water supply is contaminated; drainage runs into the catchment area, and even fiecal matter is plainly evident in the samples analysed ; there is no supervision of the milk supply ; vegetables are grown under most dangerous conditions ; stagnant drains are in almost all the streets ; about public places of recreation there are fever beds ; many of the popu- lation are crowded in small boarding-houses like rabbits, and ordinary- precautions for the removal of filth neglected, even if that were enough in itself ; houses are built on pestilential swamps ; the wind blows the dust about Allots where the typhoid excrement has been deposited to breed germs ...y the million ; and bread, meat, and other food carts go about uncovered to collect it, as if to make sure that any who escaped all other sources of the danger should not be allowed to escape the plague. AUSTRALIA. 137 ji "Even the public esplanade has to be shunned, the silt from the sewer which is being used for reclaiming being a mass of foul matter. " It will interest ' t'othersiders ' to read this about the conditions of life : — "'Many of the dwellings in which the t'othersiders are to be found huddled together are first-class fever " germinators." The rooms are small, the ventilation bad, the bed linen rarely changed, while not tlie slightest attention whatever iu paid to sanitation. It is estimated that there are at least 400 small tenements, from two to five rooms, serving as " Ixiarding" and " lodging " houses, and in these over 3,000 persons are sheltered.'" Stories of bow f u tunes are made aiid lives are lost in the race for wealth in ^Vestern Australia would fill volumes. A typical story, and a genuine one to boot, is worth recoiiliug. A well-known racing: man travelling on a steamer round the coast was attracted by a seedy, out-of-elbows individual seated all alone. lie got into conversation with him. The seedy stranger was reticent about himself, but voluble about others, particularly those who were making their piles in Western Australia — he was going there if he had to walk. The idea of a man walking was a repulsive thought to a racing man, so he most generously insisted upon this dilapidated acquaintance accepting £10 to help him to get to the goldfields. The stranger was to pay him back some day if he ever struck oil. Time went on, and one morning the Good Samaritan received a letter with the £\0 enclosed and a request to make an appoint- ment. The two met again. The out-of-elljows fellow-traveller turned up to keep the appointment he had asked for, irssed in the height of fasliion ; he not only looked a millionaire, but he was one ! Yet he was sad and depressed, and recited the history of his good fortune to the good-natured sportsman in a most dismal tone. Though his words were full of gratitude and thankfulness, he seemed, strange as it may a[)pear, somewhat reproachful. " Yes, thanks to you, I have struck a gold mine, the one the world is now talking about, and you shall have half of it ; that is the reason 1 asked to see you." " Not I," was the reply. '' I don't want it ; besides, you have relatives." " I had," said the millionaire, looking sorrowfully away. " I 4 li I' i gl 138 COXFESSIOSS OF A CARICATURIST. had three brothers. I was very fond of them, and sent for them when my luck came and, thanks to you, my fortune also. They arrived in Western Australia full of life and hope and jubilation, three of the finest and strongest fellows in the Colonies. They were all dead and buried within a month — stricken down by the damned typhoid fever." Every day I spent in Australia I had similar stories to these told me — of how those rushing into the death-trap to dig up gold were buried themselves instead. Every day I heard of PKOSPECTOllS. the swindles as well as of the sewerage. Both the towns and the business stank. Bogus mines were foisted into the " new chunj," and huge companies started to work them ; businesses adver- tised as big affairs with tremendous capitals were in reality a paltry village hut or two, with a few pounds of goods flung into them. If you are not robl)ed in England right away by such swindles, you arc invited to sail for Western Australia. I met the manager of a Western Australian mining property, who was justly savage at the influx of " new chums" sent out AVSTRAUA. 139 I* J by the directors of the company he represents. These ne'er-do- wells, of all ages and of all degrees of stupidity and vice, arrive weekly,with letters of reconnnendation from the London directors, and in most cases actual contracts signed for berths as book- clerks, s-^cretaries, corresponding clerks, &c., &c. — worthless incumbrances, but, even should they be found capable, not a berth open for one per cent, sent out : a fault showing that the directors in London are ignorant of the working of things they are supposed to direct. A sharp manager, finding himself face to face with a cargo of these silly " new chums " so landed, after going carefully over the binding contracts they came armed with, addressed them thus : — " You, Mr. Nogood, hold a contract made in London by your uncle, a director of this company, to be engaged on arrival as clerk at £\(i a week. You, Mr. Boozer, are to be engaged at £6 a week as book-keeper ; and you, Mr. Flighty, at £b a week as an assistant engineer, and so on. Now, gentlemen, in my position as manager here I may tell yf u plainly that your relatives and friends — the directoi's in London — are not convc^r- sant with the business here in detail. Were they, I am certain, gentlemen, jou would never have signed these contracts agree- ing to give your valuable services to us for such a ridiculously small remuneration. Things are dearer here tluin in London, you know ; you could not live on such miserable pittances. Now I am unfortunately in the unhappy position that whilst here absolutely at the head of affairs and an autoc^rat, I am at tlu' same time bound to accept these contracts made in London, and am therefore powerless to improve your unfortunate acceptances of these posts assigned to you. However, if you will agree to tear up these contracts I shall engage you weekly all the same, but at double salaries. Do you agree to this, gentlemen ? " They all did. The contracts were destroyed, they received double salaries, for a fortnight, were not asked to do anything, and were all dismissed with a week's notice by the autocrat, the manager of the property, who has his picked, tried, and trusted men to do all the work necessary. The Western Australian boom is over. The rooks have II •\l I I ! ■ i I r,-: 140 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. plucked every feather they can off the poor pigeon. The Land of Promise, the Land of Myth, the Land of Sharks and Sharpers, is discovered by the paying public, and is in disgrace. Truth will out, and the truth about Western Australia is out of the designing promoter's bag now, never to be caught in it again. Africa suggests a comparison. In mining there is a great difference between Africa and Australia. Take, for instance, the Rand in Africa : it is one long reef of general excellence, divided into mines all of solid value. Australian mines, with one or two notable exceptions, do not run so ; they are short, broken and erratic. Each of these when struck may or nijiy not yield the three ounces to the ton they are boomed as having, but what is not explainer to the investing public is the fact that the mines are limited ar < uncertain — they are not continuous, they are most expensive i i open and work, and consequently they are practically worthless, and the investoi-s' money is swamped and the land shows no return. A man who has most exceptional experience in mining, in a conversation with me used an expression d prnpon of the character of tlie mining lodes. He said that they were "patchy." That expresses everythi- • Australian. Australia is a patcliy country. Look ut the ai,eep stations : a good season or two, property investment, rush, extravagance, no rain, ruin, despair, exodus. So it is with land, with everything — it is patchy. The people are patchy. One set, pletisant, refined, kindly, lovable; the next objectionable, vulgar, low and detestable. A friend of mine on board the steamer had the following mterestnig conversation with an Irish lady moving in Australian society : "Do you happen to know Mrs. T^rrj' O'B. and Mrs. Mike O'C. ? "Do I know tliim? Well, iv course I do. Siiure, me darlin', both of their husbands stood in the same dock wid moi husband on their thrial for murder- -for killin' a process server in Oireland years ago. Moi husband was acquitted, worse luck ! " " Worse luck ? " >.< AUSTRALIA. 141 '* Yis. Maylnj y'don't know as how the other two giiitlt'mcii got sintinceil aiul were sent out here as convicts, ami Iwth of thim now are niilUouaircs, and my poor man is still workin' hard for his livin' in the ould counthry." Hydrophobia is unknown in Australia. A traveller on arrival has his pot dt)g taken irom him and the jMwr animal is thrust into quarantine for six months. These four millions of inhabi- tants, spread over the largest colony in the world, consider them- selves so precious they quarantine everything and everybody but lunatics. Why not quarantine lunatics ? Are tliey not dangerous ? Did not a whole city go mad '{ Stark, staring, raving I 11 yUABASTINK l.SI,AXI>. mad — Mild Mell)ouine — and yet a Maltese terrier is quarantined in the same pori. for six months ! Yet lunatic" iirrive and make lunacy riimpant, and a whole city is left after such a visitation an asylum of melancholia — Mad Melbourne. Lunacy frewer8 and common sense o the iKopIc. Those who cleared a space around tlieiii to avoi.l ulled down and "sky scrapers " and mansions were erected in t ,oir plaies. Bridges, good for a hundred years to come, were pulled down and millions spent in erecting in place of the old ones others not ArSTRAI.lA. 143 -t \ more serviceable or of trioj-e uw. Hugo ilocks, not wantt'd, were Uuilt at fiibuloiH ontluys -all these liuihliiigs Bt.uul hm monument!- of Mellwurnc's MaiUiess. The rxt inordinary good sniritH of 'he MeJliMuinites xa a li< ilthy sign. ThoHc who not only lost ai tlieir i nmey investetl, . Iia- grinotl liy tltfir folly and h-ff with liahilit - that will cripple ttiem for lit' . mmile iiiid Iwar ihi ir fall right cin'erily. Some of til- se notes luadehy me whilst seeiuj^ the K "!gar<»i ists at home '" in a hurry" may nut he received in the proper spirit. All n«'W »uur>tries are sensilive, and resent truths eoming from a stranger, while at the same time tlieir home erifies, th<>iti;h t; r mor< severe, are tolerated and unchiiUenged. Now I nt' one of the most ]»rla., here (Sydney), with a ])opulation les.s than thai of a se le in the world. 8mall-miiide ■untry — tiui, is what they ar- — a counrry tlir .size of Euro[>e witii a pojitilation le.ss than that of Loudon wiih the intellect of a countrx villajje. That Ik Australia." "And ■ videil among themseive-^ Do vou lielieve in Federation : ' This conversat .n took place in June, is;)7, and three Uiirs after, Australian Federation had become a reality. It is therefore I .\'i l.N ITKIt •HESKXT MYSKI.F. i,lhl :< .J 144 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. interesting to repeat the opinion of this important Australian on Federation, exactly as it took place : "Well — yes and no. I helieve in the principle, properly worked, in a country ripe for it ; but here in Australia, my dear sir, we do not know what federal government means. 1 have travelled round and round the world — ha ! ha ! not in a hurry, my dear sir, but with the object of seeing and learning all about the political workings of countries as well as other subjects. I travel so much sometimes that on waking in the moriiinf I have to rub my eyes to think for a moment whether I am in St. Petersburg or Ottawa, San Francisco or London. I travel so much, one country and another to me is like walking out of this room into the next. I am, in this respect, an exception. This place is provincial, the minds of the people are essentially provincial, they do not understand big questions — Federation is a very big question. Now, sir, I am shown a new machine that you have at home for cutting your hair — good, it is scientific, a thing of beauty and tremendously costly. 1 say, ' Yes, that's all very well, Imt I cannot see how Mr.' Funiiss can afford such a machine for cutting his hair.' Then everyone cries : ' Oh, he docs not l)elieve hair should bo cut ! ' Why, I say nothing of the sort — hair-cutting is an excellent tiling, a necessary thinw perhaps, but why have in a small establishment tremendous machinery to do it ? At that moment 1 caught sight of my head in a gla.ss ; the same thought struck me, why indeed ? "That is Federation here," my interesting acquaintance continued. " Here, in this little l)it of a community, not the population of one city — London — spread over the whole of it want five separate governments to govern those few millions cut up into States ! " From all I could gather, Federation in Australia might pos.sibly be realised some day, but it would be in the dim and distant futun', certainly not " in our time "' ! There is a good story told il propnx of the candidature of " The Caidinal." Of course, the votes recorded for him were solely Catholic, the Irish turning up in great force. Two AUSTRALIA. U5 gentlemen from Erin were found figli ting a deadly battle. When separated and the battle changed for one of words in place of blows, Mike declared that he'd " livil the baste to the ground for not voting for the Cardinal." " And who has he voted for ? " " Whoi the blackguard tills me he's voted for Patrick Francis Moran— who ever heard of Patrick Francis Moran ? " " Give vofr d for the Cardinal— iv course Oi have," replied the other, "and its glad Oi am that Give nearly kilt that varmint for Morau's sake ! " Needless to explain to you Patrick Francis Moran was the Cardinal. Kangarooists drive engines much in the same way as they drive horses, or anything elso— a reckless, devil-may-care style. A certain driver in Queensland was told to run the journey through and make no stopi)ages— this just suited him. Gn he went. Jle found the iron gates closed at a crossing in a tcnvn he passed through ; he did not i)ull up— not ho— he ruslied ri.rht through, (-arrying the gates away. Of course, he was repri- manded for this recklessness. " You might have killed the i>assengers." " Why, we only carried two ! " This satisfied the Enciuiry Committee as reasc^nable— in Australia. This Gueensland driver has his prototype in Xcw South Wales. Vou will find him on the express betwoon Melbourne and Sydney, known as "Hell Fire Jack," a sobvui^wt he has gained by his dash and daring in running the express. He had l)rought us on at a rare rate, and having comi.leted th(> mi.ldle run, we palled up to exchange drivers and enranes. The conductor noticed me gazing at tlie portly form ..f"thc engine- driver, who had just jumi)ed ofi". ° "That is Hell Fire Jack. Jack is a wonder-here we are ■. quarter ot an hour before time, and .lack had an hour ami a half to make up in his run-he did it -Jack always ,loes— hed make up anything. It's he as neuriv got the s,,ck for making a splendid run some time ago— 1 GO miles without a C, — VOL. II. I* li r J ■ I I It m !i ?*l 146 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. atop. Nothing wrong in tliat ? Well, you see we had four stops to make in that 160 miles, and he didn't make 'em. Some bookies in the train wanted to get to the races, and made Jack a handsome bet he couldn't get 'cm there in time — Jack did — that's all — bless you, he's a wonder — never had an accident neither, not one I He knows all about engines — can stop and mend 'em on the road if it's wanted. And you ought to see him pick up his express dis(! with iiis train going at 60 miles an hour. There is a little aim sticks out of the side of the engine, and the disc is suspendeil at the station. Jack takes it, as I say, going 60 miles an hour, never eases up — not he — but the disc he has to drop in its place has fallen off long before ! and the next train has to wait an hour to find it. Oh, Jack is a wonder^ Q[ood-bye, Jack ! " I return< d to the carriage relieved by knowing that Hell Fire Jack was i o longer in charge. Two men were conversing about travelling of a different kind — ^one was saying to the other: " Why, the last time we met was on the Coolgardie Coach — wasn't as smooth going as this, eh '. ha ! Iia ! I shall never forget our driver — don't vou remember how drunk he was, and how we had to tie him into his seat ? — and when he did upset us we went Hying a couple of hundred yards away. I saw him as I was landing on my head on the rock tied to his seat turning over, laughing at us. I wonder what became of the old lady and gentleman inside — they carried 'em off for dead, you know. He did make those horses fly — th(!y were glad of the rest, never moved when first down, did they ? " I suppose this was the joke of a Hell Fire Tom. Motor-cars will soon be introduced into Australia ; then we shall hear of Hell Fire Harry — and a funeral. The Kangarooists really do not value life as we in the Old Country do— they certainly do not value hoi-seflesh. You can buy a good horse for one shilling. Catsmeat in London is clearer than live horseflesh in Australia. They ride and drive iinything and everything. 1 riM'()!l('i't visiting the l>est-kuown horse-bazaar in the Colonies, and was shown round by an expert. AUsrJiALIA. U7 " That horse is all right, but I cuir ■••)iuniciul it as a stayer. You want it for harness ? Well, I il„n't hko to deceive you ; it ain't much good after going seventy miles -no, it's a rotten- hearted beast. It might go eigiity miles at a stretch, l)ut I won't guarantee more." "Eighty miles! Good heavens! In the Old Country half that distance at a stretch would mean cruelty to animals." "Maybe it would— those English hor.ses have tiic best barrels in the world, and tliey are pretty to look at, but no leiis. Why, 120 miles is a decent run here; rough work througirthe bu.sh' too, but then soft as tan— no hard roads like in the ( Md Countrv, \ ou know." " Yes, but the bush is the bush, and you have to go ni) and down ra.ines and over trees and obstacles of all kinds/' " Right you are. It frightens you at tirst, but, like the Irish- man who said his wife didn't mind a beating as she had gut so accustomed to it, these hoi-ses are accustomed to the uiw-and downs of the bush, and you get accustomed to it too after a k^\x hours. You may have it pretty rough. Lor' bless vou, some never stop at anything— there's Jack Madcapper and Tom Devil McCary, why, they an; daisies. Tiiey buy theii- horses here - well, they work 'em, never stop to open a gate, let tiie horses go and clear it, over they go buggy and all. Fences ? Well it'^a little relish now and then to jump 'em, and vou ought to see the buggies fly in the air. They always take'a r.ipeT.r two to mend up a bit. If a horse is injured, they go on with the r(;st and leave it, and wire us for anoviier team. Horses ain't wortli thinking about out here, and the gat.'s ain't much use, nor the fences either, now that we have notliing to keep in them." I turned to the "vet." " N'aluablc race-horses are the best off after all, then '. " " Well, they have neither bits of gates nor fancv fVnees to negotiate; they have stone walls and solid live-foot timber jurajw. They have to go oAcr the whole lot clear, or come to grief I have shot about 1,000 crippl.d fir.st-clai*s crack racei« in ten years ou the course alone." " Then there is no love for the h<»rses here ? " h 2 'i II! i .^rT^ - 148 COiVFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. " Nonsense ! we love 'em. Why, it is a touching incident, I tell you, when I come on the scene to save fnrther pain for the poor animal. The Ijoy who has had it in charge runs over with a cloth to throw over his favourite. Then he draws me on one side, and says, 'Don't shoot, sir, till I'm away, I can't bear it.'" Adelaide is a charming pla >• when you get there, but you have to get there first. Getting there is no easy matter if you arrive by sea, as you must when coming direct from the Old Country. Both for comfort and effect Adelaide is better approached by land, as when coming by rail from Melbourne. LANDING AT AI)EI,AII)K. The railway has to cross the lange of hills which shuts Adelaide in from tlie east, and some fine views of the city and the plains are obtained. From the anchorag(i at Largs Bay the city is barely visible, and travellers have to take tr.iin through Port Adelaide u}) to the city, a journey of about eight miles across the plains. These plains have been cleared of trees, and the country is liare and uninteresting. Before starting on this journey, however, the unhappy voyager has much to go through. In this respect Adelaide eonipares badl)- with Molljourne and S3-(l!iey. Sydney harbours the largest steamers in the centre of the city ; Melbourne allows i AUSTRALIA. 149 them to come to the back door— at Port Melbourne; while Adelaide compels them to stay outside in the middle of the road, or roadstead, and a very rough roadstead it is. When the weather is at all fresh, the landing is positively dangerous. The steam launches which come out to the mail steamers are bound round from stem to stern with huge rope fenders. When the launches are jumping, wriggling and plunging alongside the steamers, it is no easy matter to get into them, and anyone but a sailor or a nrofessioual acrobat would find it safest to be lowered over the side in a basket. The voyage to the jetty at Largs Bay is a brief epitome of the Bay of Biscay, the Australian Bight, and the monsoons of the Indian Ocean. When you reach the jetty, you are hoisted on to it by practised hands as the launch jumps to the right level. Then— splash ! and up comes a green sea through the boards and you are wet to the skin. Bathing, it seems, like education, is " free and compulsory " at Adelaide. Perhaps this is a part of the quarantine oix'rations — disinfection by salt water. TLis sea bath is, however, the only thing, as far as I am aware, that the traveller gets for nothing in Soutli Australia. Passengers' baggage is char'fed for when it lands at the jetty at the rate of l.v. 3(/. per cwt., and the same has to be paid on leaving. When at last you get into the train! — such a train! but perhaps the railway department does not like the risk of having good carriages soiled by passengers' wet clothes— yt)u compare this " boat express " with those of Folkestone, Dover, Harwich, and iSouthanipton. The first-class carriages are not equal to the third-class on the English lines. Being an exi-ress, this train runs more than a mile without stopping. Then you have to change trains. When you get along again, you notice that the railway to Port Adelaide runs along the street without any fence whatever to prevent jjcople from driving or walking on to the line. Fatalities of course are common, and excite little notice; bolting horses and consequent ai-cidents are of almost daily occurrence, and the local residents get quite to enjoy being pitched out of their buggies. Life her<- cannot be dull, wJiile it lasts. Passengers are lucky if they rea^'h Adelaide within i( n -i 1 150 COXFE.SSIOSS OF A CARICATURIST. POXBICllKURY VULTUIllvS. an hour and a half of leaving the steamer, the distance l>einff about ten miles. The Zoological Gardens of Adelaide are })articularly fine. The situation is lovely, the plan is excellent, and originality shown in the design of the houses. The specimens are fairly numerous and all excellent of their kind, and at most points, this is the l)est "Zoo" in the Colonies. The most original house is that of the guinea- pigs, which is a huge doll's house, complete with blinds and even a scraper at the door, and an inscription outside, " School for Younw Ladies — conducted by the Misses Guinea Pig." Tlie ca^e that attracted me most was that of Pondichcrry vultures. ^\v. Gladstone has often been caricatured as a grand old bird, but the Pondicherry vulture is a replica of the veteran states- man, collar and all. There are many beautiful drives around Adelaiile — at least, as beautiful as is possible when the scenery is marred by a barrenness of soil, a lack of greenness in the grass, an absence of wild flowers, and a tlull uniform and sombre tint upon all the trees. The hills, which look somewhat featureless from the city, are riven in a hundred places by rocky gorges or gullies, and many well-made roads cross the range at various points. The roads to Belair and Mount Lofty, to Green Hill, Marble THE MAID OF THE INN. AUsrHALIA. 151 THE WAY INTO I'AltADISK. Ilill, ^[oriattu, and a score of other places, giw at nnmoroiiH points fine views of the hills and the plain, and some of tiie waterfalls, notably the one at Waterfall Gully and at Fourth Creek, are eminently picturesfpio in a rugged way, I was advised to ignore all tiiese beauty spots in favour of one — namely, Paradise. The name seemed to augur well, and my adviser seemed so serious that I determined to make my way to Paradise. In my mind I conjured up a ])lace of infinite romance and beauty, the choice of all the pleasant places in a pleasant land ; the Garden of Eden of tli(! Southern Hemisphere. Expectation was at Hood with sunii}- imagin- ings as I journeyed over level and dusty roads towards this land of promise. I drew Paradise as I saw it, and the sketch will tell more about its beauties thiin volumes of description. I made for the hotel, and then- I found a hidy who ttiok me into the garden and pointed out a gap in tiie fence through which I could sc^ueeze my way into Paradise. I went expect- ing to be rewarded by a glimpse of the romantic; and pieturesrpie of which I was in search. I had been told of the wonder- ful orange groves of this jJace. There were trees with oranges growing — about enough to feed an average school- treat ; and at last I saw the point of all the joke — a girl-child was tempting a Ijoy to steal oranges ; the serpent had left, so 1 made for the hole in the fence and tpiitteil Paradise for ever, ^l m il 162 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. I Iiave looked for the humorist who sent me there, but we huve not met since, which is perhaps as well. One of the chief characteristics of Australian city life is its lack of characteristic features. The types of civilised humanity one meets might be denizens of Islington or Battersea for any distinguishing trait to stamp them as Antipodeans. There is a certain breezy familiarity and alisence of suavity in their manners and deportment, but otherwise they are an average lot of mixed Britishers and no more. As soon as I arrived I went about in search of a type of the Australian girl for my pictures, and was sketching one from my hotel win- dow as typical of a real Australian, when the Captain of our ship crme in and said, "Oh, there'stliatCockney, ^fiss So-and-so ! " fehe came over in our. ship second-class, and had never been in Australia before ! A1>A1I ASD EVE. , ,, ^ . . 1 recollect a simi- lar instance in Ottawa, Canada. I was returning from Government House, where I had been taken by the :Mayor to sign tlie visitors' book, and as we were returning in the electric car I sat opposite a fine, smart specimen of a youth. I whispered to my Canadian acquaintance, " Is that a genuine type of a true Canadian ? " " Yes, a perfect type." I made the sketch. The following evening I was the guest at Government House, and to my surprise I noticed that one of the servants at ^ CHAWER XL PLATK(»I!M CONFESSIONS. Lectures and Lecturers— The Boy8 Idea— How to Deliver It-Tho Pro- fessor-The Actors_My First Pltttfonii-Sinoke-Cards-Oii the Tal)Ie— Nurses- Some I'nreheursed Effects— Dress— A Struggle with a Shirt— A StruK'K'Ie with a, Bhiehottle — Sir Wilhain Harcourt Goes out— My Lanteriiists Go Out -Chairmen— The Ahsent Chairman— The Ideal Chairman -The Political Chairman -The Ignorant Chairman— Chestnuts— Misunderstood -Advice to Those ahout to Lecture— I am Overworked — " 'Arrv to Ilarrv. " •AKKX'S IIAIJ^ I.OXDOJf. I WAS THE KIIIST l() SPKAK KEOM TUB I'l.AT- FORM. I HAT hateful word " ictture " ! Oh, how I detest it ! lu the juvenile l»raiu it eoiijures uj* nieutal puniah- mcut ill the shape of a scolding, for to he "lectured' is to be verbally flogged, and the wrathful words that smite the youthful ear carry with them just as sharp PLA TFORM COXFESSIOSS. 155 a sting .18 the knnt.s of the lanh that full on tliu hapless Itai-k of the prison culprit. To the Itoyif^ii mind the lecturer is pii-tured as an old fossil to whom he has to listen attentively for an hour without under- standing a word f his learned diseourse. The funereal Maek- board, the austu e diagrams, the severe pointer and the chilly glass of water, a professor something like one of the prehistoric creatures he is talking about, with his long hair and long words, his egotistical learning, his platitudes and pauses and mumblings, combine ta depress the youngster, who all the time is longing for the fresh air and an hour of crii-ket or football. Then the not"S he is supposed to take I True, there is a certain momentary feeling of pleasure and importance on accjuiring the first clean, new notebook and long, well-sharpened pencil, but it is <)f very, very bri«'f duration. The l.oy won't be hap|)y till he gets it, but he's anything but happy when he's got it I He sees (of course I refer here to public lectures) some " proliistoric gurls," as an Irish Ixjy once termed them to me, taking ;irents enhance in the youthful idea the pleasure of being lectured to. In boyhood's days the student has to attend his lectures, and when they are over he rejoices accordingly ; but what about the lectures in after life >. Although I have given many of these latter myself, I cannot say that my experience as one of the audience has been very extensive, as I have only heard one or two. The first I heard was delivered by Professor Herkomer some years ago. The subject interested me, as I thought I knew more about it than the lecturer himself, and Ili-rkomer's delivery was particularly good, but it was a "lecture" in the .strict sense of the word. We were scolded, i.ud went away like whipped l)oys. When I stood on that idonti'-ul platform a few years afterwards / seolded everybody — it is the duty of the lecturer to er8onnge altogether superior— this is essential. If he does not possess this attribute, he must assume It. Modesty is ineffective ; mock-modesty is distiwteful ; you must rk iM - m. p«a 'i n « III il|i rt t» •*MMtMIW> Hr.«n •M 4u Wli*t Iha* srl a »af III ig at aiiainiani v I lllll M*K fcy M HMMMryUk HaIIM' ih*liiiwi«*ir *lltt>mckawtwM«fei« H«'l«>iiMh«MMr«7< w aiiainlBTH m .sir'^ r^Su,ii4P4 ■-■ I'pua t«> rnualhMd impra* •»"•• ul ih* mannvn trf IIm HMflifevn of tha bru Clah In ih« Warh) ' tw C(K««tM| i.> •ipai.jiv ■ Mom aiMttu HA ttraiM Aha(aa dahfht - Thn aawrtainnaBi CWMM tMC«N|Hrad to •ity Mhar li h atoo r^ INTRUHtCTlON -|'i»«a«,i. t,,,,», AliMMUaUal ih« H.m** ISnt and Lh A Word a • SHIMi .IV'"" ^•"•"•"'- "-•-«. N««-poopS».^ nuu. k.. M.afcn ..pnil) ^^ «•"«" • ■awr vMrr to tms houm o» uaaa. *• ApfMt Cm '"'u '■" -J"""™' "' '" "-" '"" •"• <-■«"' 1 A«».l,o ,1. MOM TO TH« OaWMMN. ■Jl tSTloX tlMt -H«k„M »-_„, rr » • ■"■ -»!* . — *..«. k,. . »«.», z .:2 ifct (toM ol t^lianaai ^^ Mt IWknti Scarum-iha \laniitM '^J"r!T.i' ^"'^'^ "" «— «u«i »«»,.,.■ .,,11 ,».„-. MOVING THEADJOtRNKENIor THE HOfll -. *., F„, ,,^, , T« ...>T »>, „tL CCCLL-, .,T, ., „„„ „ „ ,^,,.,,, TO THK.. >... uci t™. T» OMTMICI •TYll of TNI HIMBia POR ■ALLVHOOLIV -f- <(• /attmJ i" nmv ami then at a Cily banquet, I was quite umn customcil to public speaking. A friend of raiue -uggtstud I should tak- lc.s.s,.»s in Gairilf- AmM. IIM ■flklMWMK la |l*ta(. Ml Ma « I «• m IM mwmtm. bw • II uTfiffi" 0«li .v» A Hsan at Cemm <«« /'^ ■> '-•>•» bwt fi^ VIKW OP THK Hliivii. AND ILLUMINATKD CLOCK TOWKR HV NIGHT FROM MESTMINHTtR HRIUOE ST. STEPHEN S HALL, INK IMNIR LOBBY THE HOUSE AT UINNEH TIME - Ttw Mmhtf lor Bondom aMnmn mmptj fc»»chw A Count Om ' Chicb A SCENE IN THE HOUSE r A Tory Cmms) powi ml ypM iIm IMAm TIm •IkI IN THI PRESS GALLEY. Md IN THE LADIES- GALLERY W^t iht L«li« m bahuMl Um Crtdinw A ••rsMff to UaiBbcn A SkMch tron tha Prwa Gallar* A «armin| lo th*P«blK ^ IN THE TEA ROOM. IN THE DINING ROOM. IN THE SMOKING ROOM THE TERRACE BY MOONLIGHT! Or. VtNICE IN LONDON IN THE LOBBY. Tha CraM Rwnb .e ParUuMMl ta4 Mr Farsiaa t happy haniinf iround Somt Path mi^tary Impfrvmaiions from Lift. TmsWbim. Tiic PuBiMe Scabon - Bai*aiN6 hu Pudci ' BACK TO THE HOUSE. MR. GLADSTONE.— A RiMiNisctNCS. I uiU ha tai dowB at iha clow of a ufaM wamsmi MX BALFOUR SIR WILLIAM HARCOV .T HR CHAVf^' JKiH •Ml' >- , i uammo KunoANa. Tba ftftiamawUfy Praeaadiact wiU coaclndt with THE ILLUSTRATION A DESCRIPTION OF A DEBATE. With tkMafeaaqoaai Uviaioa to tba Barty Ksm o< tha MonM« />«• . Wo.M] - An ■ nwrliin-o..,! vhwh iit.ll Ktrnuin<> )i<-in| typ. *tlhuui ( malti'- prutuhi^a kuvr ' Notbinf man aai«>- ag,or tn tMt tnMDKlUr (Ml a Dial form .ithw in IMfiM or aUawhm " YiwAtliN f^ir.— "C*-' t» rhai th« wall> of thr Albrn Hallnevf n)vi« I — wModaJ with Rcnuiaa r»M« M Iau|1i i«r iha« laM nighi t'locution from "one of tho.sc actor fellows." "It is not what you say but how you >say it," he .said to mo. " Indeed 1 " I leplii'd, rather nettled. " Matthew Arnold hid a wrctehed delivery, and I think there was something in what he .said." "True, but you %\ iii ■\\ 158 COXFESSIOXS OF A t'AlUCATURIsr. aire not a Matthcnv Arnold, nor 1 should say a Goorge Dawson either. 8ij take lessons in elocution, my boy, and save yourself and your audienrte." Therefore, modestly [ went to consult a professor of elocution with my lecture in my pocket, feelin.r very much as I did wh.-n I first walked to school, or to mv first "e.litor with my youthful artistic attempts. I had, l.y the wav, attended an elocution class and a drawing class in my school days, but no boy was exi)ect.-d to learn anytiiing from cither. It is curious to notice how parents willingly subscribe to tlie s.,hool extra, "Elocution class," in the belief that it gives boys confidence. I was a nervous boy, so 1 joincl. Tiie drawin-r extra certainly gives a boy confidence, b..cause ho .sees the feeble l)roductions of the drawing-master and feels he has little to learn in order to become one himself I shall never f .rget my first attempt in tlii" elocution chuss at school. The Prof..ss..r seieet.-d a piece for th<^ .la)"— it was to be learned letter-perfect. Now I unfortunately parodied it and burle.s.pied the l'rofes,ur, who st.M>d at the end of the library, giving us .suitable actions to the word.s. Wc all faced him like a company .jf soldiers formed in a .s.,uare Henig small, I, shelteiv.l by tlu- big bovs in fn.nt, indub-ed m my aiiti.s with impunity. tVrtainlv I did ii..' want e?,,,- fidene,. at that moiueiit. This over, we sit d.-wn round the library, and then the custom was to call out a b,.y to recite the piece of the day al.Mie for the benefit of the nthers. Jfe calle.l upon n..'! ConHdenc.. ha.l fied. 1 was nut stnnk with stacre fright, but with Professor (Vight. I tried to repeat the words and thought 1 did, but net until 1 was stiuniatised by the Professor as incorrigible, and ordered to sit down, was I aware that I had ie;dly givi-n my parody and not the piece. When 1 wr.,t in seaivh of another Pr..fess..r this in.id.'nt of my last eaiiie to n.y in. inory, and I felt unhappv. Attitude is everything, thought 1. 1 shall luok in at the pietuiv i.aller;..s as I |.ass and euinpan' the ..latoiieal attitudes of tlie people of th.' past. 1 was rehraising befor le in :he National (Jallery when n.y amies attracted a lady. ] looked nnind to sec the ethrt-.sh.. was laughing. It w.s .Miss Abny An.ler.son. the ce|.bn,teda.?,...s. I told her I was about to"|e,.ture ami was PLA TFORM VOXFESSIOXS. ir)9 -, . i MIj;S MAUV ANKKUSOX. on my way to take lessons in elocution. " Do nothing of the sort," .she «Tiecl. " The pultlic »loes not want to hear yiaii* attempts at elocution. Say what you have to say in your own way. Si>eak slowly ami dis- tinctly, and let everyone hear ri«i;ht at the end of the room." So it came to j»ass that ^liss Mary Andei-son was my (july teacher iii elocution, ami this was tiie only lesson I received. Although what 1 say on the platform may not be worth listening to, I take good cure that no one has to ask me to speak U|», and put their hands to their ears to hear what I am saying; nor do I tliiuk, as 1 avoid the "preachy" style of tlelivery, my au form, and I required their tables ior th.- purpose. TIk- nruiublin-T gamblers had to submit at last, and cards in hand they betook themselves to another room, so I was able to mount 'my first platform— a collection of tables. N„w 1 d„nt know how it is, lait it is a fact that there is nothing more unnervin..- than tJ stand on a table. Tlie iulaMiile pr,.digv who is pul up on a table for the first time so a.s to b,- better adn.ir.Ml bv fair visitors and who has previously stniguje,! manfuliv from oii." end ..f the room to the ..ther on tl)e tJ.H.r. totters and falls at the first st.-p when raise.) to this higher elevation. Anvone can with ease stand ..n a .hair an.l hang up a picture ..r anvtiiiny of th.^ sort but standing ..n a tabh- has ihe v\]W{ of niakinif vou -row weak m the knees an.l light in tin- li....!. This is not th.. efiect of the PLA TFOHM COXFKSSIOXs. K'.l I'Xtru lii'iglit, Imt tlic kintwlcilnjc tliat tin- talili" was riiiistniitf.| so that y<»ii nnild put yoiir fVtt under it, and, tliciclorf, they have no right on top of it. Have you ever Ittrn in a court of justice in In'land anrciied upim a taltle '. In that enliuhteiieil eonntrv a table takes tlie phice of tiie witness-liox. Tlie result is doIilv over the l)ar, you can l>e comparatively at your ease, vour legs can treniMe nnoiis'ived, antl you seem to l»e iu a measure I'roteeted fmui flie searching gaze of the puldic. Not so in the Knierald isle. The chair is plai ed in the i-entre nf the talile in the wi'll of the court hetween the judges and the counsel, and the unfortmiate \vitnes>, finding himself in this elevated ami awkward position, Itecomes nervous in the extreme. His feet are a great source of discomfort to him. lie doesn't siem to know what to do with tiiem. l-'irst he tucks tlicni under the chair, then lie crosses them, then he turns his toes (»ut. then he turns them in, and just when he is liegiiniing to get accustomed to his emliarrassing situation, the cross-examination liegins, and he is at the eounsels mercy : " Now thin, tlon't he gaping at the jury, sir ; why arrn't you respectful and keep your eye on his lordship '. " "Now, sir, attind to me whin I'm speaking, look me straight in the face, and answer nie I " "D'ye see this gintleman on ine right '. Now, now, don t hisitate, keep cool ! " It is more than the poor witness can do to keep on tin' cli.iir. The judge is on his right, the counsel on the left, and the | my iu front of him, and after vainly trying to keep his ^ ve n>i them all at the saine time in ol'cdicnce to his coiiiiser,- iniuiictions, he IS rcfpicsted l>y the o|>iiosiiig counsel t<> ohserve mju. witness in tlie court Uchind iiini. In my opinion the witness ought to lie providetl with a swivel cliaii'. or else th.' clerks who sit round ougiit to Iteadejits in the art of taliie-iniiiing. Some years later I had anotJK'r experience of speaking from an impromptu ]ilatform ; jHihap.> tiie most unique audience I ever adiiressed. It was at Menhunt Tavlors' Hall, wiien a reception r. — Vol., II. « :i 102 CO.VFKSS/O.ys OF A CAKIVATIKIST. was given to hospital mii'sos from iill over the kiiiiflom. .My pencil perhaps can give .1 better itlea of the smuUy arnl various varieties of the " nurstis hospitalieus " from tlie ditterent nni-series of the coiintrv. There was no proper jihitform or staire, so the atten(hmts had the task of moviiiK I'AIM.IAMKVT" lo 1111- M ItSKS. Tliis 1 thoi yht very ettiricnt, li\it wIh-ii I iiioiini' d it I tmiiid that 1 rniild miK-h ln'tti'r have given an txhiliitinn ct lainy slidiniiiirsk.itiiii: thaiiillustratii«ns of the |wdestrian pe.-idiarities *y^ .MeinlMis ef I'arliamciit . I was inwarilly plr;is(tl to thiiiU that niv audience was entirely composed of skilled nurses, who were close at hand should anything happi'ii, h-r I had serious MnsM;i\ iii"_;s altout the siippeiv surface of my iniproNiscd stage. Visions of mvs(df wirl. a limki'ii arm or li'g floated !>elore ine, I' LA TFOIIM 1().\Ft:ssHt.\S. lf,.J and, iiiiloc'1, I dou't tliiuk I abmild have l»eun so very sony had an aecidcnt occurred, ho eiiraiitured was I by the sijrht of «o much feiiiiiiiiie beauty. Those ill front were all seated on the floor, while the rest were standin^r in the huj^e hall, there l»ein<; no scats. I noticed that thi- prettiest dress was that worn Iiy the nurses from the lunatic asyhuus. I felt that I would eventually come uuder the supervision of these ladies, for a military hand, regardless of my performance, was playing u selection fnrni the "(iondnlieis " just tiutside in thy othei-s. In the second part of my entertainment f make a speech in the character of the " .Mendter for Uoredom,'' aneiit the use of lihn k sticking-plaster in public hospitals. This is intended by me to be more of a satire than a humorous incident, and I am suppose;lit indeed to he a happy one. ... •• Witli many lh,inks for \our most excellent and succis>ful performance, which ^ave Jiisi ,;'„t to ihe ^;atlierinj; lo-iii;;hl. " Helieve me, faithfully \iairs, " Hdnhv t'. Hi u1)i;tt." M i I * in ■H 164 VOXFESS/OXS OF A VARICATURIST. TIk- most difficult andiciice of all to addn-ss is u siuidl aiuUoiue. I ffol far more at home before an audicm-e of tliive or four thousand than I do before three or four hundred. But the most eritieal audianc.', I tliink, is a boys' ac-hool. Not that they critiiise you so mueh at the moment, parti'^uhnly if you appear as an anti(h)te to Dryasdust. But experieii.r has shown me that something one may have said has open.d a fresli idea in the youthful mind, and the eriticism, thou,-,di fre<|uently belated, is more genuine than that of the matured memlx is cjf the publie \vhf> simi>ly wish to be amusod for tlu' passing hour, ometimes I have diseovered ^ i my audined in tin- "Humours of Parliament," where the M.l*. of the plaee in which I appeared came if 1 was not too unkind to him. But it more often happeneil he sent a member of the family in advamo, to tiiul out whether the great man was lampoom-d or noi. A friend of mine on a visit to a country house informed me that his hostess, seeing I was "billed" for two nights in the neighbourlioiMl, previous to arranging a house party to hear nu', si'EAKKR ituAxi), took the jirecaution to send the Curate the tirst AKTKsnvAiiDs VIS- j , ^^ j{,. ,..^,j„. ,,.^,.|^ ,,„j ecmdeinued me and my show unmercinuly ; my manner, matter, and voice were all bad, and 1 was eeitainly not worth liearinerienee I had was in mv first tour witii my " Humours of Parliament,' wlien I appeared at Lewes. Tiie ex-Speaker of the House of Commons, Viscount Hatnixlen, was in my auilience, ami it was interesting to watch him as I gave my imitations of him, calling an unruly ^lendier to order. It W..S all Init arranged for me to give my " Humours of 1 i /•r.A TFOlt.M (JOXFESSIOXS. 165 Pnrllamont " l»ofoiv licr lato Majesty at Balmoral. I got as far as Ald'nlft'ii. l»ut a dratli in tin' Hoyal Family put ;i sto|> to all oiitcrtaiiimeiits. SOMK UXUKHKAKSKl) ICKFKCTS. Tlic (Irvss suit ami tin- icgulatioii wliite tic are essential to those who appear in juihlic upon tlie platform. Mr. Freileriek Villiers, the [Hijuilar war eorrespondcnt, is an exception to this rulf. He appears in his ean'paigning attire, with his white helmet on ami a water-hottle slung round him ; Imt of eoiuse it wo\il(l l»e somewhat incongruous for a man in evening ilr>'.s.H, that emiilem of eivilisation and peace, more suggestive of the ! the kevs lived miles out of the town. Hack I went lo the Miscuin, fiercely plotting an ascent up the water-spout or a Imrglaiious entrance through a back window, when, to my delight, I saw an I 'J H, I ! I 111 J 166 COXFESS/O.VS OF A VAKWATV/i/ST. atteiuliuit ircsticulating to nie from a window three or four stories from tlie gnniiul. My time was running very short, so I rapidly exphuned to him the predicament I was in, and iiiii)h)red him to throw my hag out of the window. He tohl me tliat he was a prisoner hK.'ke»i in to look after the building, that there were tliree or four double-locked dooi-s between him and the private oflSce in whicii my coveted bag was lying, and woun I ' " Yes, sir ; size nmnil neck, sir ? " "Oil, thirty, forty — anything you like, imly look sharp." 'i'ime was nearly up. He measuied my neck carefully. Tlie size was a little under my estimate, so I got the .«liirt, bolted for the station, and jumped into the train as it was going oH", my oidy luggage being my recent puicliase. 1 got into this, and soon 1 w.is on the platform in my tweeil suit. I apologised to the audience for making my appeniaiice miiui-^ tlie orfliodux costume, saying it might have been wur-iility that ma«le the |»eople in the first row start hark aiid ire'iilih- foi- their .safety; anil whi-n, aftei my final )i\\n\^\ jMioiatiiM!, I l<'t my iiands (lro[> I»y my side, those eutf's caMic down and daiij^hd on the |ilatform. If my nader liupjK'Ms to lie much under tlic iiicdiiun hei;:ht, and rather liroad in proportion, I wnulil warn him not to l»uv his shirts ready-made. 1 canimt understand the idea of mea.surv ment that h'ads a siiirtmaker to eiit out a shir! takiuj^ th«» eircuujfereni-e of tiie neck as a liasis. I know a wmva aliout six feet hi if h who lias a neck like' ji walkinjf-stiek. If he iMtui^ht a shirt on the shirtniaker.s' .sy.stem, it woidd l>arely ait as a ehest- preserver ; and on the other hand, t'.iis shirt in ipestioii, as L said Itefore, eertainly fitted me round the neik, Imt I iieaily stepped on tli" sleeves as 1 went otf the phitfonn it the close nf my leetiire, iind .some of the audieiiee must think to tiiis day that I am a conjuror, and that on this oee.isioii I was ^oaig to show them .si.me card triek with tiie aid of niv sleeve , wliieli would Inive lieeii invaluaMe to the Ileatlien Cliiiiee. Ind'eil, this is not the only time I have lieeii -uspeited of li iiiiLj a sort of iieeromaiieer. I had a friend who was -,o an.\inii> {<< ii ipiove Ids arti^tie knowlediie that he used to come ninht al'ler ni-lii •\\\\\ iiie to hear my leet lire on •' Art."' It frei|Ueiitl\ Ii.ippiiieii that there was hot a seat to spare in tlie hall, and on the-^e m-easions he used to eoine Up on I lie ]ilatforni and >it liehind the sereeii, where he eould see the pietiiies just the same, 1 think on the partieiilar niitlit I refer to I was deli\eriiii; a leetnii' on " I'ortraiture," and at a eertain passive I show a \er\ llatterinjf jtortrait, .suppo.sed to lie the work of an old master. The [lortrait haviui^' ap[ieared, I then dwelt ||[mim tin- i rii;iiial. .iiid peeled out '"that no ilouht, it we could s-i tin ori'^inal "f tliis portrait, if we could .see ayain the man who sat t'w yon, ladii-.s aii.l <,'i'ntkiiii'ii, '.viiat I imagiiH* this gentlfinaii must hav.> Im'oii like I " An I wa.s siM.iking, soiiu- «ihl gciitlfnuiii in tlir siilc jialJoiv hail cither fallen ii>leep or was very excited l>y my reinarka, for lie somehow jerked tlw cord which fantencd the top of the hcreen to the gallery, and .snap went the corly, it is easy to lurn the misfurtuii' otf with a !"ke. A tly was the offender on our occasion in my e.\perienc< . I was showing some pt)rtraits of Mr. (iladstoiie ii -ii^ entertainment '•Tiie Humours of rarliainent,' aii•• (tilths I). liU iml.l.' l»io\v (liinjilitn- li. his iditiiuivlijil Im'ikI (ruai-s*), and a inmtinn of liis ronnniiniliii<> aquiline nnsc nfiiily .sent tinni into liy.itfriis ! Now in my li'cttirinj,' tliiys niisliaiw ni.iy luivt- o«cnmMl wliii-h wt-w *\w to -uinr fault of till' lantt in or ojMTntor |irovi(l<-tl liv tin- society I littunMl to; ttut witli llir spliiidid set of lanterns I hail niinle for my «'ntertainnient, en;iinecre if the pieture was all ri<,dit. jiut for a s«'.<»nd it stnirk nie that In some luisehance hi- niijiht he showinji the earieatures in plaee of the serious portraits. i^uiekly ! turned round, and the si its temporary residence lielVVei'U the len::('S. whiiiee it was ma^niHed a hundredfold on to the screen . il' an\ liiinji i>f this kind happens to a Professor lecturing on .some scientific siiiiject. it is no laujiliiiii;- matter, especially to a <'eiitlem;iii Icctiuiuir !i! a nieetint;- of the I'liiiish Association. At one of tliese pitlierinifs a weil-known Professor wii- yivinu" a mori iiiterestiiiiii and ai»precialed address, illustratol liy ihelime- liuJit. on the siilijcct ol '•(,»iiarlz Filires.' Ifl icmcmi-cr liiLrlitly. he was eN[iIainiii;: to the audience that the slramls of a spider's Well wer.' piiipiisely roiij-h so that the spider could climl) them easily, hut tiiat a tpiartz til'ie was smooth and glassy, and a spider would iievei- attempt to asceiid one. lie .showed oil the sheet a n I ' f" « r i MKXOCOPY nSOUITION TBT OMIT (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) J^ /APPLIED IM/OE Inc I6S3 Eoat Moin StrMi Rochmttr. N«« rorli 14600 USA ('!•) 4M - 0300 - Phon. (7t>) 2U-59«-Foa 170 CU.VFKSS/OXS OF A V Ml IC AIT HIST. single tlii-eail of a »i)i(lor's web and a single quartz fibre, and amid the breathless excitement of the audience a real live spider was put into the lantern. The applause with which it was greeted must have made the poor thing nervous, I suppose, or else it may have had an attack of stage frig'it ; anyhow, it curled itself up in a corner and refused to budge. A sharpened pencil, which magnified on the screen looked like a battering-ram, was brought into play, and the unfortunate creature had to rouse itself. " Now, ladies and gentlemen, you will notice tiiat it is quite impossible for the spider to ascend the quartz fibre — it may try, but it is bound to fail — but see how it will rush to the strand from its familiar web I" The s|»ider received an extra dig with the pencil, and then with astonishing alacrity ran to the quartz fibre, up which it climbed with the greatest ease amid the roars of the delighted audience. The fact was that the Professor had omitted to exi»biin that his argument only applied to female spiders. These have a pernicious habit of running after their spouses and Ix-labouring them, so the poor hubby is provided by Nature with a hirsute growth on his legs which enables him to escape by climbing, and notiiing would delight him more than for his wife to give chase to him if there was a quartz fibre any- where near. Sometimes there is no gallery in which to place the lantern, and then the pictures have to be shown from the floor of the hall, when it seems to be the delight of everyone coming in late to walk up the centre in the full light of the jiowerful rays of the lantern, presumably for the [deasure of beholding their image projected in silhouette on to the screen. Those awful feminine hats ought to lie abolished, and all lale comers ought to be made to fiuil their seats on their hands and knees, as thiy run the risk of upsetting the thread of the lecturer's discourse, and the gravity of the audience as well. I remember once when I was "ivins; my lecture on " Portraiture : Past and Present," and illustrating the portraits on medals, I came to some near the bottom of the screen. " Here," said I, " we have the Lord Mayor and the Lady Mayoress of London, 1:500 a.d." At that moment the !Mayor and Mayoress (jf the town, who, for effect I supjiose, had I'LA TFORM COXFKSSIOXK. 171 come in a (luaitt-r <»f an hour late to tlic seats refserved for them in the centre of the hall, walked past the rays of the lantern, and were of course projeeted on to the screen, uneonsiiously Uurlesiiuing my i»icture, and causing an etteet they had not anticipated. 1 referred just now to mishaps that will occur with the Itcst- regidated lanterns. The gas, for instance, may liecome pre- maturely exhausted, whieii necessitates a stojipage while the cylinders arc being changed, and when lUulyanl Kipling's work, "The Light that Failed," was puMished, I inmiediately sent for a copy, thinking that prol)al)ly tlu; author had tried entertaining with the aid of the limelight in India and had had some experience of this kind. I could give that clever author plenty of material for another volume on "The Light that Failed" — a collection of ancc(h>tes i;on- nectcd with the magic lantern. But, as I said, it doesn't so much matter to the entertainer as the lecturer, who must be (in serif II. v,'A\\A when I was a lecturer I feltany mishap of the kind very keenly ; but an entertainer is a privileged being, antl can turn the matter oft' with a joke at the expense of his manager, his gas-man, his audience, or his subject. No less a personage than Sir William Harcourt happened to be on the screen when my gas went out one evening in Scotland. 1 had to retire from the platftum while new cylinders of gas were being adjusted, ami when I made my reappearance 1 assured my auuience that it was probably the first occasion on which Sir William had been put out for want of gas I I recollect, though, on<'e at Bradford, where 1 was lecturing, the audience were put out for want of it, for the (tperators supplied by the association 1 was lecturing to were utterly incompetent. Tiic gas was bad, to begin with — it became small by degrees unody does not turn uj* at the lecture— forgets all about it, or remembers too Wfll what he suffered before. The leeturer and his audience are kept waiting. The absent in mind does turn up, though — turns up anything but trumps. He— " all 1— feels— ah I— the honour -ah I — of presiding this evening." He "lias tiie honour — ah ! — of intro- dueing the lecturer, a lady — rdil — a gentleman, 1 sliould say, whose name is a household word. Who does not know tlie name of — ah (feels in all his pockets for syllalms) — of — ah — this gentleman who is about to delight us all this eveinng on a— yes, yes" — takes from his pocket a piece of paper from which he reads : "The Rev. Carbon Chalker, M.A., on Microlies found in the Middle Strata of Undiscovered Coal." " This rev. gentleman no ,l,ml,t " lie proceeds, when lie is (juickly interrupted by the secretary, who jumps up and says, " E.vcusc me, Mr. Chairman, tliatis last year's .syUabus y..u have in your hand." The Ideal Chairman is one who rises and says, - I.adii-s and •••eutlemon, — I have the honour this evening to introduce to you yiv. Snooks, who has something inter-'sting to tell you, and one hour in which to tell it. I will not stand in his way or take up your time by saying anything further." Now how seldom this happens I As a rule the (diainnan makes an excuse to deliver a speech on his own account. The most extraordinary case of that kind I ever heard of occurred at liirmingham. The amiable 31ember for one of the districts in Hiriningham, whoso name is always associated with "three acres and a eow," had to take the chair at a lecttne given one evening to the people. As soon as the popular M.P. rose to speak there wore loud cries of " Three acres — thri'e acres I How is the coo? How is the coo 'i " It was just at the time when he had intro- dueed that question. He rose to the occasion and made a long and elaborate speech upon the subject iit heart, lie w<'nt on speaking from about thirty-five to forty minutes. When h(> sat down the wntleman who had arrived from London to give his m 174 VOXFESSIOXS OF A (JAUlVATVRIsr. lecture on " Wit and niunour " simply rose and said : '' Ladies and gentlemen,— I have the honour tiiis evening to propose a vote of -.anks to our nieiuLer for his very int(.restin.r address upon the subject of ' Three Aeres and a Cow.' " Some- one else got up and seconded the motion, and it was carried unanimously amid great laughter and cheering. Then the chairman rose and began thanking the audience for the c-mipli- ment they had paid him, and for the kind way in whicli they had listened to him. And a twelve- month later it dawned upon him that he was only the chairman of the mteting. This may be a pure invention, but it is the story as I heard it. A story is told of a distingiiished irritable Scotch lectm-er who on one occasion had the misfortune to meet with a loquacious chair- man, the presiding genius actually si»eaking fen- a whole hour in " intro.lucing " the lecturer, wind- ing up by saying : " \\ is unneces- sary for me to say more, so I call upon the talented gentleman who has come so far to give us his address to-night." The lecturer came forward: "You want mv address. I'll give it to you : >]22, Eob Roy Crescenn Jl-dinburgh— and I am just off there now. Good-ni..]it ! " I cannot vouch for the truth of either of these stories. However, I have known chairmen myself who were verv nearly as bad. I remember one— I think he was a doctor-^ who rose to introduce me. Instead of two oi- three minutes he took ten or twelve minutes. Of course he said I was \(.rv well known, and went on with some veTy flattering remarks \ibout my work, and then he add.d : " Ah, how well I remember— yes ladies and gentlemen, h. ,v well I remember years ago those CHAUiMAX .Ni,. 1. /•A.I Th'DIlM cnXFHSSloXS. political skotclHM of tlio lati> l>oylo inul otlit>rs, iintl wlit'ii I think that in yoars to <'onit' that Mr. Funi'ss's attempts will be luuidi'd down to our children as I may say, recordinii the u;reat events of th<> time we ar(> passing throuuh. Yes, let ns see what the value will be to our «'hildren to kn<»w that ^[r. (ihidstone once — ("Order, (trder,'' and " Hear, hear") — that, 1 say, Mr. (Jladstone -(cries of "Sit down, we have not come to hear you") — that, I say, Mr. flhidstone, the j^rund old man of our time — ("Sit d this chance of repeat'ug a political speech he had often given to others of a diflerent class. As a matter of fact my lecture that night had nothing whatever to do with Parliament; it was purely art matter; and this gentleman happened to be a great art collector ami connoisseur, an«l i returning thanks for me afterwards made a very graceful little speech ;d)out art matters. If he had only asked me ltef(>reluvnd, of course it would have been a very j'greeaMe op(>ning instead of rather an unfortunate one. Hut it is (piite as disti'i ssing to the lecturer to find that a chairman knows too much about his subject as to find one who knows nothing. If you happen to have delivered your lecture in another hall, and soiut'one present who has heard you is the chairman ..i an evening wh(>u yon are going to give it again, In; will get up and inform his audience, with the usual flatter}- of ehairm(>n, that tluTe is a great treat in store for them, that he has had the pleasure of hearing you before, and you are going to tell them this, and going to tell then that and in s(mio cases he will even give a mangled version of some of tiie stories — in fact, will take all the plum^ out of the pudding that you have ready to tickle the appetites of youi audience with. 176 roXFES.S/OSS OF A CARICArf'/f/ST. Somo clmirmen impross their aiulicncc tliat tliov ktK.xv far more about tlie sunjoct tlian tlio lecturer. Hut worst of all is the ( hairinau who knows absolutely nothiuj,' about the subjeet or about yourself. I rcMneniber oue eveuinj? some i.oini)o«s chairman getting up and saying : "I have great ploastu-e this evening in introdueing to you Mr. Funiiss. I know von have all heard of Mr. Furniss, and anyone eonneeted as I 'am with engineering must look upon one of his great achievements with delight. All who have been to the gr.'at 3[etropolis and travelled along the Thames Embankmeut-a beautiful way that skirts the Tliames— and have considered that at one tim(> what was a heap of mud is now one of the haiulsoniest thoroughfares in the world, must always consider that the work of th(> gentle- man in front of you in being the constructor of that inuneiise work deserves the gratitude (.f his countrymen, and I therefore take this occasion, before he rises to address you and enlighten you upon the engineering and the large contracting work in the great city in Avhich h(> has the jdeasure to live, to assure him as a brother engineer of the great work which h(> has performed for his fellow-coimtrynien." On enquiry I discovered that a namesake of mine was the contractor for the Thames Embankment, which was built when I Avas in knickerbockers. Of recent years I have had few experiences of chairmen, but proportionately their mistakes seem to be as of old. In the North of England last year I was si)ecially engaged to' appear before a literary society, and I supposed, by their paving me to go so far, they were, with Xorthern shrewdness, acquainted with the article in which they were investing. On these special occasions it is strange that a chairman is considered a compliment to the performer, and most certainh- it affords the entertainer himself amusement. For instance/ in this case I recollect my chairman-a most accomplished and representative man in the neighbourhood— was introduced co me as soon as I arrived at the hall. (I may mention it was not my first visit.) He quickly introduced me to the audience: "Ladies and gentlem(>n,-Tliis evening I have the honour of intruducin- to # PLA TFOR.\t ( 'OXFESSIOXS. 177 tin. you a gcntlomim whom we have all licaid ahout, hut few of if any, have seen hefore, \\i^ all know his work in rarliinient in the pagi > of Piuuh for soin«' years j.ast ; we all have eiijoyiMl the writings of < Toby, M.P.' This is Mr. If. W. I.uey," cf runi'h, our old friend 'Toby, M.P.'" I was giving my " Humours of Parliament," un(' during the evening I, of course as " Toby, M.P.," informed the audience at times that this was Hany Purniss's i.lea of Parliament, but I begged to differ with that g(!ntleman, and it was nither a variety for mo to play a Parliamentary Jekyl and Ilydo for one night only. If one must have a chair- man, why should . ■■ , n*- former be allow . u u chairman into aec ^ .nat popular and vorsati.o i-u-rister the late Sir Frank Lockwood, was in the habit of doinjr ':! When he lectured at Hackney he "brought down the house " in his description of Sergeant Uuzfuz in *' Pickwick" by giving a laughable imitation of his chairman — the late Lord C!hief Justice, when Sir Charles Eussell — cross-ex- amining a witness. For all T know, others may follow the example of poor Lockwood. We shall read of the Bishop of Kipon giving imitations of the Archbishop of Canterbury ; Sir Alexander Mackenzie is ready to make the musical world roar by his biu-lesque of Paderewski; and Lord Kitchener, when he returns from the war and gives the inevitable lecture, will delight military circles by his imita- tions of his chairman, the Com ander-in-Chief. But I personally have no objection to a chairman if I am announced as a lecturer and it is the habit of the particular society to pay the lecturer the compliment of formally introducing CHAIRMAN NO. 1*. \\ C. — VOL. U. N 178 COXFESS/OXS OF A CAKICATUKIsr. bim. But my appeamnt'os as a lecturer are few and far between, and when I, as I generally do, appeal direct to the public, I am most anxious to avoid giving my platform work any appearance of a lecture ; yet the Press insist upon any entertai ment given by men of my class being a lecture, I am a bit of an amateur conjurer, and I thoroughly believe were I to appear on the plat- form on a bicycle or on an acrobat's globe, and keep three balls in the air with one hand and spin a plate on a stick with the other, and at the same time retail some stories, the notice in the Press on the following morning would begin : " 'Sir. Harry Furniss gave an instructive lecture last night on subjects with which we are familiar. Some of his stories were good, some poor, and some we had heard before." And that is the rub ! We had heard some stories before ! I repeat I honestly have no objection to a chairman — the Ideal Chairman, who will inform the audience that you are an acrobat, and not a lecturer; but I do object to my friends and brother journalists who will tell the public you are a lecturer when you are not, keeping many of their readers aAvay, and who will also publish your jokes. Of course, all stories are '* chestnuts " an hour after they are told. When I first m cut on the plat- form I retailed new stories, but tliey were invariably served up in the next morning's papers, and we^e therefore known to many of the audience who came to hear me on the following evening. In fact, I once overheard a man at breakfast in an hotel saying, " No, I don't think much of Furniss ; I have read that story of his about the pumpkin in the papers." Now this story of the pumpkin was an impromptu of mine the evening before, and I was naturally puzzled by over-hearing this remark. When the speaker left the room I took up the paper he had been reading. It contained an accoimt of my effort w THE PUMl'KIX — A CHESTNUT. PLATFORM C tXFKssiOXs. I7l» on thi" platform the night bnfon-, unci my impntinptii wtory was in it I Of couiso, as in evcrythinff (>Is«', one ninst not he too ori«inal on the phitfoiin if he is to be served up in every course. If you treat general subjects in anything but a geneml way, and you are humctrous and occasionally satirical, you will find that national failing, want of humour, will tell agiiinst you, us well as certain prejudices political and socid. The selection of lecturers is <;<"u rally in the lia»ids of a coimui't. You have prob.ibly Slid something that grated upon the Itadical opinions of one member, or upon the old Tory prejudices of another, or told some joke that they =Ied lo see. So long us you keep to m. I) <, and heavenly ; ies, and objects of the sea, you are proportionately successful with your dulness. Hut to be pro- fessionally humorous and a critic is to be eyed with suspicion. Your programme is criticised and generally misunderstood. Perhaps 1 (^an show no better instance of this than what occurred to me in connection Avith my old friend " Lewis Carroll," the author of "Alice in Wonderland." The Kev. V. L. Dodgson (" Lewis Carroll") in some resjHJcts was the typical Oxford Don -once a schoolmaster always a schoolmaster. Ee lectured his friend, as he had lectured his youths, and treated grownup m<>n of the world as if they were children. In due course I visited Oxford to g.ve my entertain- ments— " llumcmrs of Tarliament" tirst; "America in a Hurry " followed a few years afterwards. In the latter I gav(^ a word- less imitation of that eccentric American, Talmage, at the same time carefully pointing out to Tuy audience that 1 imitated his gestures and voice— not Talmage in the character of a preacher but as a showman; I was therefore surprised to receive the following letter : " Chhi«tchuuch, Oxi-qrd. " Dear Mr. Fuhniss,— Yestenbu- I went to RussfU's kHoj) and bought four 5.V. tickets for your Aiiierican entertainment on tlio 23r(l, thinking I would treat three young friends to it, and feehng quite confident that there could be no objectionai)le feature in any entertainment i)roduced by you. An hour afterward;, I chanced to notice in the programme the item ' A Sermon in Spasms,' and, in the quotations from P- , notices, N 2 t ii IMO co.\F^:ytsin\s of a VA/tic.irrK/sr. It commeniiiitioii of your ' cluvi-r iiiiitutiuiiH of Dr. Taliiia^^e'H scrinons,' and iininelatform ami read. Of course, an ap'ut can always " lioom " a novice — some- one who has travelh'd, or written a book, or ^rune to smash, or become notorious in any way--t'or a course of " h-ctuns." provided there arc sufKcient chairmen to be found willing; to act as an extra draw. Anyone nowadays thirstinjj; for notoriety jumps on t(» the platfonn as a lecturer. He may havt l)een " Perhaps a soldier full of 'cute ways, and fearless like his Pa ! Stake your dollar sudden and ipiick to boom. Seeking a bauble rei»utatiou even at the Commons mouth." Or he may have been an aris- tocratic stowaway in a troop- ship, for instance, and Ijccome the hero in the pages of our new English - Americanised Press paying for and publishing his startling disclosures. The lecture is the natuial sequence of the boom fever — a lecture, say, on " Red Tape Rats." A reading-desk, a glass of water, a map, a few amatpi-ish snapshot slides exhibited by means of a lantern, and a great a!id popular chairman— then success is assured. But the crowd is not present to Iw interested in rats, nor are the reporters there to write about rats, nor is the chairman presiding so as to refer to the stt)waway's paper on rats. For the chair- man has his own Red Tape Rat ' to let loose with which to startle the audience and nobble the Press. The next dav the i\ THK lllMolltS OF I'AUI.IAMKXT. IIAI.I.VHOOI.KV rAllIKTIC. I 182 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. report of the lecture is not headed *' The Hon. Babbling Brook on Eats," but runs "An Admiral of the Fleet on Naval I • I i ■ \ lUllUV H liXlSS A8 A I'KTOllIAh KXTEKTAl.NKK. Drawn by Cliiiiciil Fluuei: lie}>roditced by permission of Vie proprietors of " The lirnphic." Eefonn," or '• A Field Marshal with a Grievance," and a list of the fashionable party on the platform is considered of more importance than the hjcturer's remarks. PLA TFORM COXFE! > «IHI^ -^ ;^*^vi:^Ti- ^y^n^i^t-t/>^ o~et «v^ '"■ KEDUCTIOX OF A PAGE DRAWIXQ FOU PINCH MADE BY JIE WHILST TRAVELLING BY TRAIX. «».' i J> •A PLATFORM GOXFESSIOyS. 187 to secretary, who takes down in shorthand. (I never yet found a secretary who could write in a train. I can write quite easily ; the secret is to sit up, holding pad in hand, and let the b();ly move with the oscillation of the train. To write on your knee or on a table, or in any other way but this, is impossible.) 3. .SO arrive at destination ; go to hotel and order dinner. Then to my " travelling studio " — a large case fitted up with everything necessary for drawing in black and white. Straight to private sitting-room, order dinner to be ready in half-an- hour, at work at once — before the others and the luggage arrive. After light dinner, to hall or theatre to see if arrange- ments are complete. Then visit from local manager or secretary — friends — strangers, a walk round the town to get "copy," tea, a good hour's drawing (no matter how tired I can work on tea), dress, off to evening's work on stage ; autographs to be written and people to meet ; back to change, supper at some club, speeches ; back 3 a.m., bee, sleep- -no, only occasionally* Hotel serx'ants turn on electric light, begin sweeping the passage — sw — w — w — whish, sw — w — w — whish ! they chat and laugh just outside one's door ; they gradually swf^p down the long, long passage. Doze — sleep. Bang, bang ! "Five o'clock, sir." Bang, bang! the Boots awakening commerciul men for early trains. Thump, thump '. baggage packing-room over your head. Commercial, or sportsman, or entertainer, or whatever he may be, whistles or sings loudly as he dresses. Altercation with Boots about trains in passage. Bells, bells ! " Hot water, hot water. Bath reat\ , sir." Train leaves at 8.1.5. I'm up. Something attempted — sleep — something not done, — I have earned but not got a night's repose. So in the cold, wet, misty morning off again with a heart for any amount of work ; still achieving, still pursunig, learning to labour — and not to wait! Mr. E. J. Milliiien, of Punch, frequently wrote to me in 'Arry verse. When I was confined to ray bed with fever in the summer of 189;?, I was terribly b sy. I had my Punch work, my syndicated "London Le<^tei (a column-and-a-half of a newspaper, with four or five illustrations), and much other work I !i 1 188 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. to do every week, and I, much against my doctor's and nurse's wish, worked all the time. A jmipos of this I received the following : " 'AERY TO HARRY. "Dear 'Abby, 'Ow are yer, old 'ermit? I 'opes vou're gittin' on prime For a sick man you put in good work, mate, and make the best use o' your time. You're like no one else, that's a moral. When Fm ill I go flabby as suet. But you keep the pot at full bile ! 'Ow the doose do yer manage to do it ? " I'm glad to believe you're a-mendin", though kep' on the strictest Q.T. The confinement must fret you, I'm sure, 'ow I wish I could drop in to see, And give you a regular rouser. But that is a pleasure to come ; When we do meet again, we will split a fizz magnum, and make the thing hum. " I drop yer these lines just to show yer you ain't gone slap out o' my 'ed, Becar e I'm cavortin" round pooty pemiiskus, while you're nailed to bed ! 'Taint a prison I'm nuts on, old pal, and I'll swear as it doesn't suit you, Bo 'ere's wishin' you out of it, 'Any, and well on Life's war-path, Hurroo ! ! ! " I sent over my pasteboard this mornin' to do the perhte cummy fa, But this 'ere is entry noo barney, a bit of a lark like, yer know. I picter you jest rampin' round like a big arktic bear in a cage ! Well, keep up yer pecker, my pippin, and keep down yer natural rage. I'm yours to command, when you want me, to gossip or work, fetch or carry ; And that Harry may soon be O.K. and a 'arf, is the wish of " Yours, " 'Arby." I should like to confess my real reason for going on to the platform. The fact is that for many years I was mistaken in the country, particularly in Liverpool, Leeds and Bradford, for an artist who signed political caricatures " II. F.," and whose name, strange to say, is Harold Furniss. I understand he is about twice my size. So tliat I thought if I showed myself in public, particularly in the provinces, it would be seen that I Avas not this Mr. Harold Furniss. Xow, unfortunately, on the stage or platform I look tall —in fact, bets have been made that I am over six feet high. On three or four occasions after I have left the platform or the stage I have had to grant an PLA TFORM COXFESSrOXS. 189 interview to gentlemen who have made bets on this point. The explanation is, however, simple v.aough : as there is no one on the stage or platform but myself, there is nothing to give my height, so the particular object of my appearing in public was frustrated. F' 1 ^il "^1 DOWN WITH DRYASDUST. ^ CHAPTER XII. MY CONFESSIONS AS A ** REFOEMER." Portraiture Past and Present— The National Portrait Gallery Scandal- Fashionable Portraiture— The Price of an Autograph— Marquis Tseng — " So That's My Father ! "— Sala Attacks Me— My Retort— Du Manner's Little Joke— My Speech— What I Said and What I Did Not Say— Fury of Salsr-The Great Six-Toe Trial— Lockw od Serious —My Little Joke— Nottingham Again— Prince of Journalists- Royal Academy Antics— An Earnest Confession— My Object— My Lady Oil —Congratulations— Confirmations—The Tate Gallery— The Proposed Banquet— The P.R.A. and Modern Art— My Confessions in the Central Criminal Court— Cricket in the Park— Reform !— All About that Snake —The Discovery — The Capture — Safe — The Press — Mystery- Evasive — Experts — I Retaliate— The Westminster Gazette — The Schoolboy— The Scare— Sensation — Death— Matters Zoological - Modern Inconveniences— Do Women FaU in Art ?— Wanted a Wife. My attack upon the National Portrait Gallery was in the form of a lecture entitled "Portraiture Past and Pre- sent." I found the subject so large, so complicated, I may say so octopus-like, embracing such varied periods and phases, and throwing forth its arms or ramifications in so many direc- tions, that I soon discovered I was struggling with a mon- ster subject, with which it was impossible to grapple completely in the limited time allowed for the performance. I managed in a light way to review the history of FroM u I'lititn hji lleljfiiham dt Gould. Still MY COXFESSIOXS AS A " REFORMER:' 191 portraiture from Dibutades to Millais, and from \U dii^plajr in the Temples to its discouragement at the National Portrait Gallery, taking as my text Carlyle's dictum that "Humai; Portraits faithfully drawrn are of all pictures the welcoinest on Human Walls," a sentiment that appeals to all, for there is no doubt human beings interest us more than anything else. The Pyramids of Egypt awe, but our interest is in those who raised them ; Ancient Botne enchants in exact proportion to our interest in the Ancient Romans; the Forum is but a frame which the imagination instinctively fills with the forms of the mighty men who moved there ; the Amphicheatro would have little interest but for those who made its dust ; and when we wander through our Parliament at Westminster it is not BO much the place that interests us ns the senators associated with its name. I confess that when I travel on the C'ontineut I cut cathedrals and study the people, in the boulevards, in the streets, in the market-place. When I have spare time in London I do the same, and at one time made a point of spending a day now and then wandering about the East End of London for the purpose of studying character; and it was while so occupied that I happened to stray into our National Portrait Gallery. I was astonished and disgusted at such a collection having such a name, and there and then decided that I would make this the subject of my lecture, and the following is brietly my indi'tment as I then laid it before the Grand Jury, composed of the 1 i ess and the Public : "Of all places, a Portrait Gallery should appeal to you most, and the National Portrait Gallery is the place in which to spend a happy day. "That is, if you are not critical. If you are, then get thee to a library and bury thyself in books of biography, for portrait painters were deceivers ever, historical portrait painters in particular. "The National Portrait Gallery was founded about thirty years ago, and the founder, Lord Stanhope, had the audacity to ask for a yearly grant of £500 for the purpose of supplying the nation with a representative colkctiou of national portraits. ll tl L 193 CO.YFESSIOXS OF A CAB/CATi HIST. The first purchase made by the trustees was a portrait of Sir Walter Raleigh (rather suggestive of the undertaking ending in smoke). However, it has struggled on, such as it is. "Truly it is in no sense a National Portrait Gallery, and although the richest and most civilised nation in the world now generally grants ^1,000 a year to supply itself with represen- tative portraits of its great men and women, being I may sjiy about the price of one portrait by a successful painter, the port-aits of our great lights do not swell the number of the collection. "It has been difficult, no doubt, even with this immense amount of cash, to get portraits of those of the past. They have been locked up in the stately liomes of England. " Of late years Charles Surface, Earl of Spendthrift, knocks his ancestors do w to the highest chance bidder, but the National Portrait Gallery knows them not. " Tl reason of this is not far to seek. "Taking up at random sin annual report of the trustees, I read: 'The salaries of officials amount to £1,170, other expenses ^eoOl, the police £635, total £2,402.' And now we come to the interesting item : « The money spent on the purchase of portraits £l'i'i''\ But the particular section of the report dealing with this item says seven works have been purchased for £143 18».— that is, £20 lis. \d. each. " Small wonder then that many works in tht National Portrait Gallery of England — England where portraiture flourishes — are unworthy of the attendance of even £35 worth of policemen. Can we wonder wlien £635 is paid to the police to gaze at £143 18«. worth of portraits, the purchase of the year?" and so on. The result of this " ridiculing the State," as the Times, in its leader, expressed it, for the penurious pittance it doles out of the revenues of the richest country in the world towards the maintenance of a National Portrait Gallery, was that I was the cause of arousing the Press of Great Britain to the miserable condition of the National Portrait Gallery, which ended in our having one in its place more worthy of the country. .hi' COXFESS/OX.S AS A " HKFOHMKR. \\)^ Besides druwing publie attention to the National IN.rtrait Gallery, in the same lecture I put in a word for the struggling unknort-n portmit painters. Speaking of payment reminded me of the story told of llularehus, a successful jMiintor 7l(J m.c. Candaules, King of Lydia, paid him with as much g(.ld as would cover the surface of the work. I told my audience that I doubted whether, if that system existed now, th«> portrait painters would leave any room at all on the Academy walls for subject pictures. Would Meissonier or Alma Tadema, say, paint your portrait for three napoleons, and would you pay Slapdash,* ]{. A., fifteen thousand for a larger one? I then made the assertion, "It is not too much to say that a fashionable portrait painter often receives t'900 for his name, and £100 for the value of the picture to the sitter as a portrait. It is tlie artist's autograph with a dash f.f something attached." I asked, " Why should snobbery tempt those away horn an honest, well-iminted portmit by a less-known man, to accept a failure with a Society signature y " a query that was replied to by my receiving any number of letters from all over the country asking me to recom- mend artists ; in fact, at the time I might have started an agency for portrait painters. One of the artists I suggested had already had a very striking portrait of the Chinese Ambas>ador, Marquis Tseng, hung in the Academy, and over that painting ho had had a trying experience. His sitter, like (iueen Elizabeth, objected to shadows, not like the conceited Queen vhroiK'' vanity, but, being an Oriental, he really did not unders .<. what the shadows were, and rushed to the glass to see if .. ,. face was dirty. He was a high official in his own country, and naturally anxious not to be mistaken for the J)irty IJoy! Again he got into a frightful state at the glazy i«p[)earau(;e of his skin — it was an oil painting. " Only oi)ium-eatcrs have shiny skins, and I am free from that vice. This is a libel, sir, and will disgrace me at home." Th<''. he had no idea of perspective, but a great idea of his own ink, and commanded my bewildered brother-artist to paint the red button on the top of his hat, the feather down the C— VOL. II. jj 194 COXri'SS/OXS OF A VARWATfRIST. bark, tho orders in front, and was diflappointed that hit different coats and sashes, three an^ four deep, could not all bo shown at once. Another illustration of tho difficulties of portrait painters I gave in the same lecture has since been .'• frociuently re{K»nted in the Press that I fear it M'ill be 8tal(> to most of my readers— the story of the man who called upon the portrait painter and asked i.'m to piiint his father. ** Hut whrre is your fat'' r ? " " Oh, he .lied ten years ago." " Then how can I paint him ? " ask(Hl the artist. ** Why, I've just seen your picture of Moses, and surely if you can paint the portrait of a man who died thousands of years ago, you ciiii more easily paint my father, who has only been dead ten yeare I " Seeing tho sort of man with whom he had to deal, the young artist agreed to paint the dt'funct gentleman, and the picture in due time was sent home. It was carefully hung on the drawing- room wall, and the newly-blossomed art patron Avas called iu to see it. lie gazed at it for some time in silence, his eyes filled with tears, and then, slowly nodding his head, he said softly and reverently, " So that is my father I Ah, how he is changed I '' But out of this lecture comes another story — the story of " The Great Six Toes Trial." I must start at the beginning of its strange, eventful history, the same way as, in my lecture, I began Avith the origin of portraiture. Now the late George Augustus Salii, iu his leader in tho Duilif Teh'finiph on this lectiu-e, accused me of not giving the origin of portraiture. ** Mr. IlaiTy Furaiss was bold enough to maintain that, although Greek art remained the model art of the world, portraiture had vt ry little to do with it. Mr. Fumiss should not tell this story to the prehistoric toad, for that reptile's presumably long memory might enable it to remind the graphic artist that thousands of years ago the art of por- traiture was invented by a sentimental young Greek girl, the daughter of a potter of Corinth, Dibutades." In the same J/)' fO-V/A'A'A70.V^ AS A " Jil'rO/tJUi'H." 19A article ho 8nccrcation in the arts preclude me from pronouncing a i Direct judgment on portraits and portraiture ? For that, after all, is the burden of your article. Is not an opinion, if correct, as good coming from a bootblack as from a Royal Academician ? If so, I submit that mine, if worthy of discussion at all, might at least be ascertained and be considered with respect. It not, then I brmg the lecture of Professor Herkomer, A.R.A., published on tlie very same day as your article, to witness that my judgment was a fair one. By a curious coincidence, he lectured at Leeds on the self-same subject within twenty-four hours of the delivery of my own little lecture ; he travelled over much the same ground ; brought forward in some instances the very same examples as I, and deduced very much the same conclusions." I happened to call in at the Garrick Chib on my way to the Punvh dinner, and there found a copy of the Dailti I'vlymph containing the leader, on the m- in of which was written with the familiar pui-ple ink, in Lfc,vis Wingtield's handwriting, " (t.A.S, on lly. F." Wingfield was Sala's neighbour and friend, so this settled any doubt 1 had about the authorship of the article 1 have just referred to. When I showed it to du Maurier, who sat next to me at dinner, he said, " 1 say, old chap, I'll tell you u capital story about Sala which you might use. J/r CONFESSIONS AS A "REFORMER: 19; When he was an art student, he tried to get into the Art Schools of the Eoyal Academy, and for that purpose had to draw the usual head, hand, and foot. When the Examiners counted the toes on the foot Sala had drawn, they found six, so Sala didn't get in, don't you know !" Xow, as other journalists had quoted Sala against me, and a Nottingham paper attacked me in a long and rather vulgar and offensive loader, I, finding myself shortly aftorM-ards the guest of the Literary Club in Nottingham, seized the opportunity to reply. I regretted— though I supposed it was flattering to me— to find that quite recently, although I had been treated for many years Avitli the greatest kindness in the Press, I had been rather attacked. "1 was i)roud," 1 said, " to find that the first person to attack me in the Press was the greatest jounialist the Press possessed— Mr. George Augustus 8ala." What I really said after this I print side by side with what I was reported to have said : " What I Said. " I liiive not tlie pleiisuie of IMr. Sala's peisoiiiil acquaiiitaiice, but no one Iiiis a greater admiration than I have for tliat ^reat man in literature. Mr. Sala began life as an artist ; not only so, but lie began in that walk of art which I pursue, like another great man of the pen had done before him, for, of course, you all know the story of Thackeray going to Dickens and offering to illustiate his books. Dickens declined Thackeray's otter, and it is generally lielieved tiiat that refusal so annoyed Thackeray that he became a writer and a rival to Dickens. It was a very good thing for him and for literature that Dickens gave him the refusal he did. Now, Mr. Sala, as I said, also began life as an artist, and I am informed that when an applicant for the Royal Academy he had to send in for ex- amination the usual chalk drawings " How I WAS Hki'outed. " He (Mr. Furniss) had not the pleasure of Mr. Sala's persona acquaintance, but no one had a greater admiration for him than he liad as being a great man in litera- ture. Mr. Sala began life as an artist, and not only so, i)ut he itegan in that walk of life which he (Mr. Furniss) pursued. He went to Dickens, and wanted to illustrate his books, but Dickens would not have the sketches ; afterwards ]\Ir. Sala went into literature, and it was a very good thing for him and for literature that Dickens gave him the refusal that he did. (Hear, hear.) " Mr. Sala began not only as an artist, but as a caricaturist, and he had to send into the .\cademy Schools three ' short drawings ' as they were called, of a bead, a hand, and a foot. Unfortunately for Mr. Sala, he had six toes upon the foot 198 CONFENSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. of a head, a hand, and a foot. The Examiners, however, discovered that Sala had drawn six toes on the foot. He wa^ rejected, and no doubt this caused him, like Thackeray, to forsake tlie pencil for tJie pen, and he is now Art Critic of the Daily Telegraph. " In 1851 Mr. Sala painted the pictures upon the walls of an eating saloon, and that probably had given him the taste for cooking which he had evinced ever since." he drew, and the Examiner, having counted these toes, pointed the mat- t' i out to Mr. Sala, who die' not get into the Academy Schools, so now he was the Art Critic of the Dailij Telegraph. In 1851, Mr. Sala painted the pictures upon the walls of an eating saloon, and that probably had given him the taste for cooking which he had evinced ever since." The reporter had evidently trusted to his memorj-, and not to shorthand notes— tlius the blunder. I pointed it out, and at once corrected it in a letter printed in the same paper a day or so afterwards. My object in all sincerity was to have a joke — du Maiirier's joke — at Sala's expense, but in leading up to it my very complimentary and perfectly accurate parallel illustration of Thackeray was unfortunately, by the reporter's carelessness, attributed to Sala I This correction was entirely lost sight of by the Tress, and I was accused by papers all over the country of having falsely accused him of offering to illustrate Dickens. Papers printed apologies to Sala, and in some cases paid Sala's solicitor money tu avoid actions-at-law. I then heard that he was going for me, I found a letter from liurnand to that effect the evening I returned from a lecturing tour. Strange to say, that night Sula and 1 were both guests of a Medical Society's dinner at the Ilolborn Restaurant. Both had to make speeches. I spok(> before Sala, and referred to a misquotation from a speech 1 had made in the country, and purposely then and there made the aincni/e honorable, of which he at least understood the meaning. He ignored this altogether, and I now merely mention the incident to show that he was viudictive from the very first. lie would not listen to reason. Sir George Lewis, Mr. Tiabouchere, ]\[r. Burnand, and other mutual friends failed : Sala remained obdurate. It was freely reported after the verdict I Mr COXFESSIOXS AS A "REFORMER." 199 was given that the plaintiff never had any desire to make money out of me, and had specially instructed his counsel not to ask for damages ! As a matter of fact, when our mutual friends implored 8ala not to proceed with such a trivial and ridiculous action, he admitted that ho wanted money, and in conversation with Sir George Lewis — who all through acted as my good friend, and Sala's too, doing all in his power (which is great) to induce Bala to accept my necessary anuwh', — Sala declined. lie had already pocketed several amounts from papers publishing the Nottingham paper's fanciful report, and said to 8ir George : "When Friswell libelled me, 1 got £500 damages; and why should 1 not be equally successful against Furniss?" " Yes," said the astute Sir George, " but you must remember tbnf 1 got you that j£500, and now I am on the other side." What 1 really said, and what 1 Avas reported to have said, here I plainly show arc two very different things. Still, in the words " and now he is Art Critic of the Dnihj Tclcf/rftph^^ there was a germ of libel — slander one must call it, as the words were spoken — so 1 was advised to withdraw. Sala, however, made this an impossibility, and the silly action, fanned into "almost European importance," to quote Lockwood, was to be. To make matters worse, just before the GREAT SIX TOES TRIAL I received a note from du Mauricr : " I am awfully sorry, old chap, but the capital story I told you of Sala and tiie six toes was about another fellow after all!" Although a letter from me was published immediately correcting this ridiculous blunder »m the part of the reporters, pointing out that what I did say was that Mr. Sala was not the only literary man who began life as an artist ; and that I had 200 COXFESSIONH OF A CARICATURIST. COU.NSEL FOR THE ITiAIXTIFF. quoted casually as an instance that Thackeray in early life went to Dickens, my correction — though -well known to Sala — was, to my surprise, ignored, and the words / had never used were made the point of the whole action ! Mr. Kemp, counsel for Sala, rolled them out with unctuous- ness ; then paused for the Judge to write them down. Mr. 8ala, in the Avitness-box, in melo- dramatic style denied that he had ever taken sketches t > Dickens, and the jury noted that fact. Yi't 1 haduever said hcdidi and further- more .aa knew I had referred to Thackeray and not to him. Still, for some reason I could never undei'stand, Lockwood alloAved this to pass, and cross- examined Sala, admitting that he had heard the story of Thackeray and Dickens — as to my right as a critic — but never denied that those words attributed to me were absolutely a false report I The? next point Sala made was that an " offensive caricature " (ropro- dticed by permission on this page) was by me I It wa> Mr. F. C. Gould's. Sala knew this ; so did Lockwood, but he did not deny it: in fact, when the jmy considered their verdict, the two points they were clear upon were (1) that I said Sala had offered work to Dickens, and had been refused ; (2) that 1 was the author of the clever (but in Sala's opinion most offensive) et'iicature of himself and me. I prompted Lockwood in Court, but he told me that he would not bother about facts, or call me, or deny anything — he took jiH. F. c. Gould's sketch in the westminsteb, WHICH SALA MAINTAINED WAS MINE. J/)' COA'FESSIOXS AS REFORMEH." 201 the line that the whole thing was too absurd for serious consideration, and that he would " laugh it out of Court." One report says that *' Mr. Lock wood handled Mr. Salu very gently in cross -oxamination, and got from him an explosive declar; "on that Mr. Furniss's statements represented him as an ignorant and impudent pretender. ' Don't be angry with me, Mr. Sala.' " But the Judge was angry M'ith dear, good, kind Frank Lock- wood, and scotched his humour, and refused to allow liim to "laugh it out of Coiu't." It annoyed him, ami he sumnu'd up dead against me. Lockwood couhl only sA.\T. handed down to posterity, say, in the Council Room of the Royal Academj\ " That the subject is not a picturesque one, I admit, but I can offer the painter an historical incident connected Avith it that should recommend itself. We all know that Sir Francis Drake playing at bowls when the Spanish Armada was sighted is a favourite theme Avith artists. In this case, although there is nothing Spanish about it, there is a parallel incident. I Avas, like Drake, by the sad sea AA'aA'es, not playing at bowls, but sketching a common, or garden, donkey, when a telegram arrived from London to say that the great trial Avas in sight, and my presence Avas demanded at the Royal Courts of Justice (Court o) at eleven o'clock the '■ >lloAving morning. Let it be recorded that my nerve Avas e(iual to the great Admiral's - I finished the draAving of that donkey. " The morning Avas a gloomy one, and no doubt the AA'cather had something to do Avith the solemn tone of the proceedings. A collection of briefless banisters, imtated jurymen, and Avet lunbrclhis in dark corridors is not enlivening ; and Avhen you arrive, to tind the Court crowded, and you happen to be, like me, considerably under the medium height, and rather bror.J in proportion, it is difficult -sy to come up at all, much l.-ss smiling, to the feet -^ of justice. Here is a subject for a Vunch puzzle. ^'^' "•^''"• The defendant how is lie to get into Court? It is a mystery to me hoAV 1 managed to squeeze myself tlirough. 1 stuck to my hat, and my luit i)ulled inc tlu'ough (alas, a ucav one I). The hat Avas more rubbed the Avrong way by the trial thiui Avas its Avearcr ; but it is an item in the expense of legal Avarfare that ought not to be forgotten by the taxing master. IIoAvever, I fooad myself sitting next my consulter and friend, the 'sage of Ely Place,' in good time. Although a case is doAvn to be J/r COXFESSIOXS AS A "REFORMER.' 203 THK IM.AIXTIKF. tried in a particular (!ourr, it may be transforrod to another (Jourt at a moment's notice. This is bewildering to the parlies interested and, from what I saw, irritating to the legal fraternity. Tomkins r. Snooks is down for trial, Court 2, The legal call boys bustle in the counsel and others engaged. 3Ir. lluzfuz, (i.C, pushes his way into Court, surrounds liimself with briefs and other documents, when some mysterious harleipiiu of tlie Law Courts changes Tomkins r. Snooks to Court 4, and calls upon Brown r. Jones, who are jjacked away in Court ;'», waiting their turn. Uuzfiiz gets very angiy, and bustles off to Coui-t 4. In fact, getting your case uito Court reminded me forcibly of that amusing toy, so popular then, called Tigs in Clover'— wigs in clover, I was nearly writing. I apologise at once for the mere tiiought. We were transferred from one Court to another, and our friends sat out a ease in the Court advertised to try ours, wondering what on earth 'The Prince of Journalists ' and 1 had to do with ' chops and tomato sauce.' AVhat followed has been pretty fully reported, so I need not dwell upon it. Indeed, I. could not live in the frightful atmosphere of those Courts, and.would gladly pay twice tive pounds to be allowed to sit on the roof if ever I find myself a defendant again. " According to the reports, ' the plaintitt' was supported by his wife, and the defendant by the editor of Flinch.' The soleum occasion demanded a certain amount of gravity, Mhich Avas particu- lariy difficult for me to retain, as my ' supporter,' although fully aliv»' to the tremendous bearings of the case and the importance of the issues, failed to hide in his expression those 'happy thoughts ' that flow ceaselessly through hisfertih' brain. The outward elfcct was a see-saw antic with his imposing (>ye- bi-o^-s—a proof to me that his sense of the ridiculous had got the better of his gravity. ' Put on your gloves at once,' he wliispered impressively to me. 'Why?' I asked. ' iJecause you may then leave the court Avith clean hands '. ' (The ' putting THK KDITOl! OF VVXIH sriM'DHi's mi:, I 1 204 COXFESSIOyS OF A CARICATURIST. on the gloves' must not be taken in a double sense.) But this is a digression. You morely ask for sketches in Court. Well, I send you my rcoolleetion of Mr. Kemp, Q.C., trying to bo very angry with me; of my ' brother carica- turist' (r/(/c' reports), Mr. Lockwood, strug- gling to be very angry with jNIr. Komp, and pointing to the defen- dant, 'That miscreant I' (note the effect upon iiic), and the Judge very s(>rioiis with everybody. As an antidote, I was spoiling a beautiful sheet of white blotting- paper by drawing recol- lections of the donkey I was studying in the country when I Mas summoned to town to take my trial. I am anxious to make this public, as I now remember that I left tliat sheet uf sketches in the court ; and who can tell ? Some one may yet • invest those sketches with an almost European importance,'' and the number of five pounds I shall be called upon to dole out all round will be something appalling. ''A j>ropos of this truly great trial, tlie Ohsrrrrr remarked, ■a its leader upon it, that 'future treatises on tlu> law of libel will, if properly i.nd picturesquely indexed, be enriched \s ith this entry, " Art critic , statement held to be a libel upon, sec Toes." Indeed, the antics of the law of libel ought to be written, edited, let me suggest, by 3Ir. (ieorg- Lewis, and illustrated by the genius of Mr. Frank Lockwood. I will supply a footnote.'* Over thkJi'K (f esprit on my part 8ala waxed verv Avrotli. ii>r besides having to pay £8(t costs of his own, he brought upon himself columns of chaff of which the following is a fair SIR F. I.(KK\V()OD AXO .MYSELF. MY COXFESSrOXS AS A " /IKFOliMKH. •205 specimen. "The Prince of Jo»irnuli»ts," wrote a wag of jourualists, "is lamenting that ho has jumped out uf thoFuruiss into the lire, for of a surety five poiuids will luirdly repay Mr. Sala for the roasting he will receive from his good-natureil friends." Skits showing six toes were plentiful, jokes in burlesiiue and on the music-hall stage were introduced as a matter of course, and private chaff in letters was kept up for some time. One private letter I wrote du >[aurier, ".Sala has no sole for humour — y<»u have made nu" put my foot in it," and added the Six Toes signature sketch. In this n(» do\d)t ('u Maurier found inspiration for Trilby. In the witness-box Mr. Salu took up a curicms position with regard to that filched and fatal joke. He said that I told that joke because he had been invited to distribute the [n-izes at the Art School at Nottingham shortly before, and that I had run mediocrities— Rcnjamin "West Avas his favourite i)ainter." '• A lov.il iiiitroii on the sly seemed, Whicli from the Hist its cheek to shame inured."* It Avas a contemptible i)andcring to unblushing mid self-interested sycophtmcy, involving practically the ruin of all that the best spirits in the art world had laboured for since the conuiienee- mcnt of the century. A society of unmitigated selfishness was thus started, and still continues. When everything else around has been reformed, as the country has advanced and increased, '■■■ f-'o.len's "Blip at the H.A." .Vr COXFESSIOXS AS A " /ttFOKiff/t.' aoQ tho Royal Aoiwlomy r(>maiii« exactly n» it mus v . m) InirruMlly formotl one hundiod and thirty years ajjo. To all tluH I reneivod endless confinnution, but. alas I tho writers did not give mo perniission to puhlish their names. I have on my desk liefore me as I write this pa^e a letter from tho editor of our most artistic illustrated weekly : " Allow mo to eonRratulato you; k(.ep pegging uwav. The i{..val Academy of Arts (phiral) is nonsense ; it is, as yon say, a IJoval Academy of oil. If the R.A. had d.>ne their dutv years ago, we would not see such farcical stattic's i„ tlie streets, nor should 1 (us at present moment employed) bo writing to Berlin and Vienna for ussistanco in matters where skill and taste are required by ; t workmen." The President of a certain Royal Academy wrote: 'I have just read your ' Royal Academy Antics,' and I must confess that, as far as I can judge, many of its strictures are deserved; ... but I can venture to say that many of the antiquated mistakes made by the parent Academy have been carefully avoided by our governing body," From all sorts and conditions of artists and art employers 1 received congratulations. Those from tho poor struggling outsulers alone repaid me for the trouble 1 had taken. ATtha't time, only eleven years ago, the Royal Academy and otlier picture shows were in a very different position from what they arc now. Art is no hmger a fashion ; i)roportionately the Royal Academy is going down. The glory of Lord Leightou, one of tho brightest of Society's stars, att, u-ted hosts of fashionable people to the gatherings of the Academy, and Sir John MiUais too, was much run after by the fasliionable crowd. Now that these are gone, the Academy ha.s lust all inteicM in smart Society. "Academy Antics up to Date" would not hav.> any sale. "An Artistic Joke" in Bond Street would not hav^e C. — VOL, II, 1" I THE KIKST I'.K.A. 210 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. - h ' i « • any visitors. T fought for the weak when they were crushed by the strong. Now that "My Lady Oil" is feeble and powerless, I desist. " The Royal Academy has been the subject of many bitter attacks," wrote the editor of the Magazine of Art, "during the last hundred years — attacks which, directed against unjust or antiquated rules, have usually been well founded. But never, perhaps, has so eff(!ctive a charge been made as that which Mr. Furniss brings in his entertaining volume ; and if it be true that ridicule will pierce there whence the shafts of indignation will rebound, no little good may be looked for from the publi- cation." Precisely so. Others, serious and influential, had ex- posed the R.A. ; I~^ tried what ridicule would do. But the public did not take me seriouslj', and the Press took me too seriously ; and as the public does not buy books on art, but is content with a ri'c/uiujc, my object to a certain extent was defeated. My Lady Oil of Burlington House is a very selfish creature ; she persistently refuses to recognise her twin-sister Water Colour, giving her but one miserable I'oom in her mansion, and no share whatever in her honours. My Lady Oil is selfish ; My Lady Oil is unjust to favour engravers and iirchitects, and to ignore painters in water-colours and artists in black-and- white. She showers honours on her adopted sisters, Engraving and Architecture, because tlio former mechanically reproduces her work, .'Uid the latter builds her pretty toy-houses for hor children to live in. NO WATEH-COLOIR On IlLACK-AXD- WHITE NKKU APPLY. dd MY COXFESSIOXS AS A "REFORMER." 211 This is really altogethor absurd Avhcn yoti reflect that it is in water-colour that English art excels, and that the copyist, the engraver's occupation will soon be gone, beaten away by slightly more mechanical, but more effective, modes of reproduction. Sooner or later John Hull will open his iiurtistic eyes, and see that mediocrity in oil is not equal to excellence in Avater, and that those who originate with the pencil are far before copyists with the graver and drawers of plans. I then advocated a Xatioual Academy, a Commonwealth of Art, presided over by a State Minister of Fine Art, in which mediocrity will find no space till a welcome and a place have been given to ail earnest work, regardless of its nature. Where the number of works of any one man will be limited, -and where there will be no such mockery of good work as " rejection for want of space." Where all the tin(i arts, and especially the national tine art (water-colour paintings), shall be recognised as arts, and the best of the professors of them shall at least be eligible for election. Where the committee of selection and hanging shall b(>— as m the Salon -el(.cted by the body of exhibitors. Where reasonable time shall bo given to the proper consideration of every work sent in. AVhere the women, in the rare (-vent of their being equal to their brother brushes, shall be elected into the magic ci.vle \ ery few of the great public who find the splendid Tate Gallery 'a thing of beauty an.l a joy for c>v,>r," recollect the disgmceful treat.nent the don..r „f it received at the hands of the Government and others. The wav in which Mr — ,ffer wards Sir-nenry Tate was "lu-ULup io derision and contempt by H l.andtul oF nresponsihle cranks " was a public s.-andal Mr. lati., m consequence, temporarily withdrew his princely 23 212 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARICATURIST. offer of £150,000 to the nation. All his friends, and they were legion, deeply sympathised with him. I, being one of the few who were asked by Mr. Tate to meet at his house and consider the form of the "British Luxembourg" before the offer was made public at all, took upon myself to write to the Times as follows : — "Eed-tapeism has triumphed, and all your art-loving readers are disgusted, but not altogether sui-prised, to find this morning that Mr. Henry Tate has retired from the scene with his princely otter of £80,0r>.' and his magnificent collection of pictures, which was to form the nujleus of the proposed gallery of British art. It is a bitter disappointmjr to the munificent Mr. Tate, and a warning to thers who, like him, cor- forward with their purse and their pictures and offer them to an unartistic nation. It is bad enough to find that a splendid gift like this cannot be accepted ; but even worse features in this lengthy controversy have been the gross personal attacks and ungenerous insinuations made against the would-be donor, which must be particularly hurtful to his modest and unobtrusive nature, and I now write to suggest that all those who sympathise with him (and • surely their name is legion) should show him some public mark of their ^^* appreciation. To the British mind this at once suggests a banquet, and I would most willingly undertake all the arrangements in connection with it if my present state of health did not preclude my doing so ; but, without a doubt, among Mr. Tate's countless admirers there must be many eager to adopt and carry out this suggestion." Of courae I was chaffed in the Press for so " characteristically, though gravely," suggesting such a thing. My object in making the proposal was misunderstood. I was accused of putting the crowning absurdity on the whole thing, of making a cheaply canonised martyr of Mr. Tate, and some ungenerously hinted I was following up my joke of my " offer to the nation " by another. In fact, for the ' first time in the histoiy of England, a public man was not to have a public dinner when there happened to be a matter of public importance to celebrate and ventilate ! On the other hand, I received a letter from Mr. Tate, from Bournemouth, the day my letter in the Times appeared, in which he thanked me for my warm-hearted letter in the Times, but begged of me not to presr i my proposal in his honour. " As vou sav, I am a modest man and it would be more than I could stand. What I should like would be to ' i MY CONFESSIONS AS A "REFORMER." 21. J Bee the artists calling a public meeting and protesting against the way in which British art has been shelved." In the same letter ho assured me " that too much could not be said in condemnation of Sir Frederick Leighton's and the Academicians' supineness." In writing to thank me for dropping the proposed banquet, ho again referred to his great surprise and disappointment that neither 8ir Frederick Lcighton nor any one of the Academicians had given his scheme any support, and complained that the President of the Royal Academy had been much more loyal to his friend Lord Carlisle " than to the cause of British art." THE OLD - dY. In the winter of 1885 the following paragraph ran through the Press : — " A statement lias l»eeu circulated from u (quarter that may 1)e taken as well informed, that the City Lands Committee of the Corporation of London liave perfected plans for the improvement of the Central C!riminal Court. It is not improbable that tiie process of reform has been accelerated by a recent letter to the public Press of Mr. Harry Furniss, tiie well-known comic artist, who, having been summoned as a juryman, suffered many woes while waiting to l>e called into the box." As the Saturday Review remarked, the liitter cry of the outcast juror which I uttered is familiar enough to the public ear, but I had given it a more penetrating note than usual ; but it did not hesitate to say that it would not produce any more effect upon those whom I sought to influence "than tlie less articulate, or even than the absolutely inarticulate, protests of many generations of his fell ^"--sufferers." And the Saturday Review was right, for fifteen Avinters have passed since I wrote ni\ protest to the Daily News. " I cannot help thinking the prisonevs at the Old Bailey have eveiy reason to congratulate themselves they are hrought there as prisoners, and not as jurymen. They are well lookcl after, and have a clear way into Court, aad plenty of room when they get there. These are their advantages ; hut, alas ! the lot of tlie poor jurymen is not such a happy one. For some reasons, which ma;- (or may not) exist in the mind of the 1 214 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. summoning officer, I received a demand from him to appear and perform a 'super's' part in trial by jury at the Old Bailey Petty Sessions. I arrived at the Court punctually at the hour requested, and after fighting my way through a mixture of other small ratepayers, detectives, bailed prisoners, and nondescripts, I came to tlie first floor. Then I entered a dark passage, ' standing room only," and found it quite impossible to get near the Court, the outside of whicli re'-mbled the entrance to Old Drury on Boxing Night. ' There ain't no room , just stand outside there ! ' where I managed to keep my temper and my feet for a considerable time. By degrees I squeezed into the Court with my hat and temper ruttled. I arrived at barrier No. 1. ' " ae I been called? ' ' Name ? ' ' Yes, yer 'ave, long ago ; fined five pounds for not answering to your name ' ; explanation. Shoved on to barri No. 2 ; explanation repeated. Shoved on to barrier No. 3; explanation repeated again, and reached banier No. 4. The Judge : ' Swear ' ; and I swore. Final explanation ; fine taken off. I have an excuse. ' Stand down ! ' Here I remain for an hour and a half in a pen, huddled up with more ' Heycuses,' as Mr. Husher calls us, some of whom, by their own statement, came from houses in which there were infectious diseases. Inuigine how nice this would be with the jury-l)ox full ! I -.ust admit the presiding Judge performed his task of selection with discretion, particularly when he let me off. But I observe that before the Judge there is a bouquet of flowers. 1 am told that this is the survival of an old custom of placing hyssop before the Bench by way of fel)rifuge to protect him from pestilential vapours from the dock. I would like to suggest that a bunch oi hyssop be agam substituted for the bouquet of flowers. In justice, I ask yc tliis : Is it reasonable to fine an over-taxed ratepayer five pounds, for not having heard his name through a musty brick wall ? And may I through you make a proposal — that busy professional men should be exempt from this annoyance on payment of one guinea per annum, and that this fund should either be employed in building a new court, or provide fees for a really competent jury of junior bari'isters, who undoubtedly would be the right men in the right place ? " My " cry " was taken up by the Press. " Purgatory is no name for it," " The Old Bailey Sc-audal," and other startling headlines tailed to move liuml)ledom. .,The most celebrated Criminal Court in the world, situated in tttc richest city, to this day remains a public scandal and a purgatory to unfortunate jurymen. My suggestion in this " amusing jeremiad," as it was called by one paper, contained one serious proposal ; but my protest against the only form of conscription known to our laws, and my suggestion that the jury shoidd be paid junior barristers, JL 'i MY CONFESSIONS AS A "REFORMERS 215 was, I confess, the only humorous idea I had in writing tho letter! The major portion was serious — so again I have been a victim to the want of humour on the part of my journalistic friends. THE CEXTRAL CRIMINAL COIIIT. /'/««* "/'«/((/(." Mr. Punch appeared as my "champion stout and warm " in a series of verses, a few of which I quote : " That citizen is now in Court, a dismal den and dusty ; • Frowsy and foul its fittings be, its piiuosphere is fusty ; And oil, its minor myrmidons ar-j pioud and passing crusty ! "They chivy him, that citizen, hustle him here and there ; One elbow looseth his trim tie, one rumpleth his back hair : They greet his queries with a grunt, his gruirblings with a stare. " A close-packed crowd doth hem him round, a tight, malodorous ' block ' Of fustian men and women gross, of dry and dusty lock ; His By your leaves ' they heed no whit, his struggles wild they mock. SI 6 COyFESSIOS^S OF A CARICATURIST. ' He may not stir, he cannot see. At length, in tones of blame, He hear? them toss from lip to lip his own much-honoured name : ' What ! Fined for absence ! ! ! That he hlowed ! ' He swells with wrath and shame. ' And through the throng he madly thrusts, like Viking, through the press Strewing his path with buttons burst and fragments of his dress, Claiming reversal of that fine with dearly-bought success. " How long, oh British citizens, will ye in patience bide The torture of the Jury-box remorselessly applied. The Usher's haughty insolence, the Bobby's baleful pride ? " How long shall the ' twelve honest men,' our constitution's end, Be treated worse than criminals, their time and money lend, liong hours of thankless horror in their country's cause to spend ? " Punch riseth in indignant wrath, your champion stout and warm : 'Tis time that Somebody should take this old abuse by storm. And sweep out the Old Bailey with the bosom of Reform." I have to confess that letters to the Press have, as a rule, little effect in reforming ; in fact, my only direct success was caused by an il'ustratcd letter to Punch. The tent-jobbers wore evicted, and the pleasant and not altogether picturesque pavilion for cricketers, in the centre of Regent's Park, was erected in consequence of this letter of mine lo Punch: — " Dear Mk. Punch, — I have dis- covered a nasty spot in one of the lungs of London. .\s you are the Doctor to cure all evils, I trust you will take up the case. "I re-visited the neighbourhood of dear old Regent's Park last week. I strolled through the Zoo to renew the acquaintance of all my friends there, deserted in the 'Out of Town' season, and longing in vain, alas ! for their day in the country. It was early ; the Tark was deserted, e.\cept by the birds, and here and there laughing THAXK YO-O-U ! # 4 MY CONFESSIONS AS A "REFORMER." 217 children with their nurses. Everjthing was pleasant, so fresh and screen, and free and easy, unlike the West End ' lunj^s." " I sat myself down on a liench. Shut out from the madding crowd, one could breathe in comfort. I recalled Locker's lines in praise of Piccadilly — that crowded thoroughfare, dusty and noisy — and while trying to fit them in to suit the beautiful scene around me, I nodded, and fell asleep. 11 " Bang ! I'm awake ! What's that ? A cannon-ball hit me in the back? I'm all of a heap on the grass, my hat one way, my umbrella another — UEGKxa's I'.uiK AS IT WAS. Fiiim "Punch.'' A nOLGH SKETCH ON WOOD. and I nowhere ! or, where am I ? Dear me, am I dreaming ? Have I been earned by a shot '? (\ ' lunteers do practise in the Park.) Was it a suburban race-meeting? Yes, it must be, and one of a low order. And yet this is surely Regent's Park ! " ' Thank you, sir ! ' — ' Thank y-o-o-u ! ' — ' Th-a-n-k y-o-o-o-u ! ' "I pick myself up. Is it the monkeys' half holiday ? Yes! Th^y are imitating boys playing cricket. Their cages are close at hand. "Bang! Another blow ! ! This time I receive the enemy's blow — as an Englishman should — in front. It brings me up standing— I see it all ! The monkeys are boys ; the cages are practios of the furogoing, I may here make full confession of how I FOUND A SNAKE IN REGENT'S PARK. The following incident may prove interesting to the public in general and naturalists in particular : "While taking an early walk in Regent's Park on Saturday, June 12th, 18U4, I captured, not the proverbial worm, but a specimen of a rare species of snake, which was indulging in a constitutional on one of the broad paths, '* What a gigantic worm : " was my hrst thought, but on my using my stick to arrest its further progress it rose in the orthodox snake-like fashion at my cane, throwing itself into an attitude of defence and hissing with auger. The park-keeper, i iv-labourers who were moAving the grass close by, and divers members of the British public, from the piscatorial street arab with his minnow- ensnaring thread and bent pin lo the portly merchant wending Citywards, were soon on the spot, and really that diminutive reptile caused more consteraaiion than would have been the case had it been instead an Anarchist bomb. I sent over to the »! V- MY COSFE.SSIOXS AS A "liEtORMERr 219 cricket pavilion for a tin canister wherein to cage pro tnit. the wily stranger, and excitement waxed high as prepara- tions were made to accomplish the fearsome feat. This was safely managed by the aid of a newspaper, which naturally enougl;, considering the events of the week, proved to be of a sporting character, and the viper, probably anxious as to the result of the Oaks, glided to the column containing that news, whence it was expeditiously shaken into the canister, which I perforated at the top, and walked off with my tinned snake to the Zoological Gardens hard by, Avlu^re its roaming propensities were kept in check within the walls of the reptile house. I was somewhat startled to learn that my capti\e had not escaped from the Gai'dens, which did not contain one of its species, and Mr. Bartlett gave it as his opinion that there must have been a number more wherever this one came from. This now danger further enhanced the cha -ms of Eegcnt's Park, which on Saturdays is a perfect pandemonium, the pedestrian having to exert a gi-eat deal of agility to dodge the whizzing cricket balls and avoid bein^ maimed for life. Now that we have had snakes in the grass we may expect vultures in the air, and who knows that in time to come we may not be shooting big game in the jungles of the north-west I The above is the substance of a letter 1 wrote to the Tiiiifs, the publication of which caused no little consternation in some papers and no little chaff, at my expense, in others. The London ever.ing papers appeared with startling ccmtents bills and sensational headings : P! "LIKA-JOKO, THE SERPENT HUNTER." "SNAKES IN REGENT'S PARK I" "THE TALE OF THE SERPENT." "SNAKES ALIVE!" &c. The Westminster Gazette, " In the hope of gleaning some valuable information about this newly-discovered fearful reptile which lies in wait for wayfarers in the wilds of Northern London," sent a representative post-haste to intei-view Mr. . 330 COXFESSIONS OF A CARICATURIST. Bartlett, the superintendent of the Zoological Gardens. This report in the Westminster is headed : " He thought he saw an elephant Upon the mantelpiece ; He looked again, and found it was His sister's husband's niece," and then proceeds to throw doubt upon ir • veracity. " Mr. Harry Furniss nas been suffering from a delusion very similar to that of the subject of Mr. Lewis Carroll's nonsense-verse. Mr. Bartlett is a man of few words, though what he does say is both interesting and humorous. Without replying" — (the Wfst- miiisfcr representative required him to tell ; im all he knew about my snake) — " he took up his pen and, on the back of a visiting-card which lay before him, he drew a circle as large as the card would hold, the ends of which did not quite meet. ' There,' he said, ' that is about the actual size of Mr. Harry Furniss's snake. You see its size is not alarming, and its nature is not venomous. In fact, it is absolutely harmless.' " ' But it is of rare variety, is it not ? ' " ' The variety is not common, certainly, though I have known it for the last eighteen or twenty years. It is known as the small crowned snake (Coronclla hevis), and is occa- sionally found in Hampshire and in one or two other counties. The first specimen I had was brought to me from Hampshire by a friend of mine, a young officer. As he pulled it out of his hand- bag in this room I saw it biting at his fingers. I thought it was a viper; but, of course, on examining it I soon saw what it really was. It has no fangs, and it is, as I said, quite harmless. At its full size it may measure from fourteen to sixteen inches. As for its rarity, here is a fairly long list of the specimens we have had, and we have several at present. But come along to the reptile house and see it for yourself.' "Arrived at the reptile house, Mr. Bartlett called the keeper, and in solemn tones and with a grave countenance requested him to ' show this gentleman Mr. Harrj- Furniss's serpent.' The man looked puzzled for a moment, and then gradually a broad grin spread over his face as he THE LATE MR. BAllTI.ETT. -,, MY CONFESSIONS AS A ^> REFORMER." 221 replied ■ ' Oh. vea, sir. if I can find it. bat I uin not sure alwut that.' However, he removed the lid from iv kI»«« cane containinn sevenU lively little creatures just about as lar^e as a fresh-water eel at the ajje at which it is known to the small Iwy who tries to catch it in his ha.ids as the ' darning needle.' After KropiiiR about in the sand at the bottom of the case he found the specimen required and handed it over to Mr. Bartlett, who held it in his hand and allowet shudder, while the cricket or football ground of a college is ihe best study an artist can possibly have for the poetry of motion. Mr. Sterry cannot be in earnest when he says that girls think the study of anatomy tiresome, drawing from the antique a bore, painting from the nude supei-fluous, and studies of the old masters uninteresting. An afternoon round the art schools and art galleries will prove to him the very reverse. But then the " lazy minstrel " cannot intend his readers to take him seriously, for he says that women have greater delicacy of touch and facility of manipulation than men, and that their hands are less awkward und their fingers more lissom than those of the sterner sex. In poetry, my minstrel, yes ; in reality, bosh. Where are your women con- jurors ? You say that their brain is not strong enough to second their manual advantage, but that they can " knock oif " a pretty water-colour or oil study of flowers, or a graphic caricature ! Caricature, indeed ! Perhaps no one has seen more caricatures than I have, but I have never seen a caricature by a woman. If women have a failing, it is lack of humour. We poor cari- caturists know that ; but we also know that whereas women can compete side by side with painters on the line of the Eoyal Academy, we are not honoured by even a failure in caricature. It is curious how clever lady artists become when they happen to be the wives of successful painters, but it is a significant fact that while all writers seem to agree that marriage is the cause of obliterating artistic ambition in women, it has in niany eases been tlio birth of genius ; and while domestic com- panionship with an artist will make a woman a painter, no 232 COSFESSIOyS OF A CARICATURIST. . Meet General BoulanK'er-A Lunch at \Vashin«ton-No Speeches. The Thiuteen Club— What it was — How it was Boomed- (Iruesome Details-Squint-Eyed Waiters-Superstitious Ahsentees-My Reasons for being Present -'Arry of i'««c/. -The Lost " VcKial" Chords-The Undercraduate ai.-l the Undertaker-Model Speeches- All)L.rt Smith -An Atlantic Contradiction-The White Horse-The White Feather —Exit 13. ROB ABLY no moul varies so much in the time of its celebration as that most important one, dinner. Some people still exist who dine at one o'clock ; sonu' also there are who daily ohserve that fearsome feast yclept -High Tea." Tiie majority of pei.ple dine at varions times ranging between seven, o'clock and half-past eight, bnt there is one indi- vidual alone who dines at six. it is the City Gnilder. Time was when City princes dwelt in City palaces, and rosi- at five, breakfasted at seven, lunched at twelve, dined at five and retired to rest at ten; but nowadays these magnates are lords of the City from ten till four, and <•£ the West End and the suburbs for the remainder of the twenty-four hours, and they would in the ordinary course of things invite you to dinner 236 CONFESSIONS OF A CARICATUIi/' T at eight o'clock or bo. What inscrutable hf. , then, ('<>ujp.i«» them to hold their state dinnei-s at the dread L'.ii ni six y For it in at this time, when the ebb-tide of liunianiiv -"eta strongest Irom the City, that the honoured gues^ of !< City Company may be seen fighting Ins way, like a minnow against stream, in a hansom to his dinner at the hall of tlio Guild. Still, he goes "where glory waits him," so what re( ks he that the hour is altogether uncongenial and inconvenient ? Nevertheless, I know as a matter of fact that this earliness compels many invited guests to i\;cline the honour and pleasure of dining with a " Gill " (as " Robon " would say), who would without doubt accept tlu> invitation were the hours of the Guild as reasonable as thoir cuisine is excellent. Personally, however, it has often been a pleasure to me to leave my easel at four o'clock and prepare to meet my practical City patrons " on their own midden " at *' 5.30 for 6." As an illustration I wiP record a reminiscence of a very pleasant evening 1 once spent in the City, when the festivities — save for my having to make a speech — went off with that success which is inseparable from City dinners. Imprimis, I arrive in daylight and evening dress. These two, like someone and holy water, don't agree, for not all the waters of Geneva nor the arts of the queen of all Ii/dnrht'ssfuseii can destro)' the horrid contrast between a white tie and a white shirt ; yet another good argument in favour of a reasonable dinner hour. I hate being in a minority. More espe( ially do I detest being in such a decidedly pi-onounccd minority as one jnins when one drives into the City about six o'clock in the evenu._ against a vast cun-ent of toilers of commerce homeward bound. It may be weak, but I feel it all the same. 1 seem to divine the thoughts of the omnibus driver as he gazes down up- >a. me from his exalted perch — he does not think my shirt is clean. His sixteen " outsides " bestow upon me u supercilious look that conveys to me that they opine 1 am merely cabbiug it lo the station vn route for a " suburban hop." But I bear up under it all, and think of the magnificent banquet of ^hich they, poor THE rnXFESSIOXS OF A DIXEK. •rx; things, know nothinjj, ami 1 am l«'Kii.niu;? t- iw\ «iuito imui.l when a brute of a follow in tliarKo of a van .atoh. h his wheel <^j fouf^ Doi^^T Jifnb f ■mm. ME^ OK TlIK PI ^ o < 1- tl^ tt IC O m UJ a QQ -J o a: o QC ft < o -J Ul I 'J) Ott AliDERMAN. IDEAIi. UKAI-. " Ah, Snuffers ! Old friend of mine— where is hi> V " " There," and you point to the name on the plan and nod over to the other side of the table. " No, that's not Snuffers ! I recollect now ho told mc he would not be able to come. That's ^[ajor Bangs, a guest asked to fill a vacant chair." Similarly you find that the eye-glass youth is imf Canon Dormouse, the clerical-looking gentleman ni)i) voLiMK. away. C. — VOL. II. R J. WHISTIiKR, AFTKIt A CITY ItlNXKU. (niVAWX WITH MY LEFT HAND.) •242 COyfESSlOXS OF A VARICATUBIST. O 0): Trtl— ^C-f'TEo^ ODD \fter dinner carao the speeches. As each guest was called upon, my odd friend was to his evident chagnn not named; I noticed from time to time the old gentleman was elevated- sitting high. At last, after I had returned thanks fjn- the visitors, he rose and asked to be allowed to speak. He said something nice about me— the reason he explained to me later The burthen ot his speech was a protest that he had not seen one odd volume that night. "If you've got 'om, produce 'em. Ah: "(snap- ping his fingers at the company in general) "I don't think you know wha t an odd volume is 1 " And then turning round he pluied on the table a huge volume on which he had been sitting all through dinner. "There," he siiid, "that's an odd volume if you Uke — that's some- /VPRJL 2.'?? 1556 MY DESKJN KOR SKTTK OF 0D1> VOLUMES. A (iCKST. I WAS thing unique. It contains 9,987 hotel bills— a chronicle (ot my hotel expenses) for two-thirds of the present century." Later he came round to me. He assured me that he didn't catch mv name when he asked for it, but when I was speaking he recognised me and was glad to have the opportunity ot making my acquaintance. It appeared he had bought many hundreds of "Itomps" books for chiWrou and given them to rilK <0.\FESS/OXS OF A DIXKll. 24:5 C'hildmrs Hospitals uiul othor iustitxitions. Sc be had besides an odd voluino a good heart and what is m(.vo siuprisiiif?, a watch in every pocket 1 Watch-collecting was his hohhy, and, like a conjuror, he produced them from the most unexpected and mysterious places. One belonged to the Emperor Maximilian, and had in its case moving ligures to strike the tinu>. I confess 1 wished he had exchanged watches with me in place of names. His name, by the Avay, was Ilolborn ; he was a w(>ll-knoAvn Citv tea-merchant. When I visited Tweeds for the Ib-itish my 1)Ksi(;x (liKincKD) Assocuition Mcetnig, 1 was made a mem- ^k uku i.yox ci.iititK. her of Ye Eed Lyon Clubbe, a dining club which I understand nu-ets once a year as a relief to the daily monotony of the serious busi- ness of the Associat'.in — in fact, " for one night only " the Hritish Ass. assumes the Lion's skin. To see learned Professors who have be(>u di- lating for hours and days on the most abstruse scientific subjects, witii the most solemn faces, amidst the dullest sur- roundings, suddenly appear wagging their iL ess-coat tails to represent the tail of the hunarv liw»— Glacial Lepidodendron. Fried Smelts— Horned Dinosaur. Kromeslfn d la Jf/^.w*-— Androgynous Cones. Ponlet SaiM d la C7(rt.s.svHr— Chytridian Woronina. Braised Fillet o/'7?fp/'— Lobengula Lion. Boast Saddle of Mutton— 'S&tive Kalahari. GioHse— Statistics of Slaughter. Pr(r "°™ ilMoratWM bctivrai us ; out 1 ma,l„ bold t« mfurn, him of the fact (hut Iho waiter had not only ak,.„ „„,- my plato, but had amoved my JaicV I ciuiu 1, rue guest ot the evening, was allowed to that the Inimorous pai.er of Baltimore had published the impressions I ,vo«ld receive on visiting their .r^tX and P«ntly was a caricature of myseFf swallow ,g m/ Tst BaUimore oyster This so interested the wait.-rs of he club that they sdected the largest for me, and were so disap li. ted Sancho 1 anza was punished l),.f„re me Porluips the most oxti^.nli...., dinner I ever took part m «.,s held m J.ew Y..,k on November Srd 18<»r. when twelve leading Democrats and twelJe .pi.^ 1^ «ve taken place m the l',nt,.,l States. English n.ulers will hardly reahse what such a combination meant. Tl ' .I y Ilome Rule Bill when 1. admg Liberals and (Conservatives stood on he same platf..rm. JJ„t that M-as the result of a puX political question ; political ,nestions of that naticmal clfn c er hrst Ms.t to America 1 sat next to a verv infl„cnti;i \.w Worker at dimier. At that time also elections M.re pencilg, I iS THE COXFESS/OXS OF I n/XKR. .45, and I casually ankoa my acquaintance what he thought „f the Ration. lie „,«e.l his oyehro.. with ,rj ^ I met that man the day of this dinner fonr rears later He was po^hvely dl with excitement; he could 'talk of nothing, but pohtiCH. Party emi.lems decorate.l his coat; every pocket waslul ot pamphlets-he had I.en working „i,ht and lav , defeat Bryan. His valet, no duuht, was sh..pi„g «oundlv tl e s ecp of ^difference nothing to lose or nothing I g„in Htl Bryan succeed. The silver sc-are of IJryanC to^hed the vM^'^^^^^y-^ the one touch that makes the whole A.nerican Morld kin. It happened that I was dining at the house of the chairman of thi. unique dnmer ten days before the election, an, " w^s tolling us ot the coming election-night dinner as h e n ,s extraordnuay ,n the history of their politics. To n.v sur, dys afterwards, I received an invitation. Thev all ,ad J The dinner was hehl in an hotel in th,> c-ntre of New York ana special p..mission had heen giv.n to have tl.- ruo.n n^t w! the one „, winch Me dined turned into a telegraph offi.-e, wl e e all the messages gomg to the central ottice M-.^re tapped, .nd we I! it : l 350 VOXFKSS/OXS ()/■• A CARlCATrHlsr. knew- the rosult iu tho room u» soon ua it was known at the oentrul office. Perhaps I was the only one present thoroughly indiflfen-nt, and certainly the only one who enjoyed his dinner. Speeches wer<' indulged in even earlier than usual, and one of them had the portentc.us title of "■ England " coupled with my name : I rose and said that I felt exactly like a man who had been invited to a country house, and on his arrival was met by his friend on the doorsteji with a long face and a cold, nervous hand. lie was glad to see you, but had sad news : his wife Mas lying bc^tween life and death, and tho doctors wen* round Wt bedside. Now, under such circumstances, one does not exactly feel one can make one's self at home. I assured my listeners that at the moment the Republic was lying in a critical condition, doctors were at her bedside, and it Mould l»e settled before midnight whether she was to live or die. If they would allow me I Mould rise later, and I trusted then my friends would be in a more genial and less excited mood. I had the pleasure of continuinjr my speech late that night, and con- gratulating them on the Republic having survived the Bryan crisis. To describe the scenes after dinner Mhen the results Mere announced, if I had a pen capable of so doing, would simply dub me in the minds of many readers as a second de Rougemont. Late that night I reached the Materside. The North River Mas ablaze M'ith red and blue lights, and rockets shot into the darkness from either shore. Every ferry-boat, lug-boat, scow, or barge in the liarl»our jjussed in an endless procession. The air quivered Mitli the bell(»wings of fog-horns, steam whistles, and sirens. It was indescrihable ; language fails me. I can only (iuote the words of the New York paper M'ith " the largest circulation in the world " : " Tho wind-whipped Materr of river and harbour glo\v(>d last night with the reflection of a myriad lights set aHame for the glory of the new sound and golden dollar. East and Mcst, north and south, dazzling streams (.f fire played in fantastic curves across the heavens, and beneath this canopy of streaming fiame moved a mammoth fleet of steam craft, great and small." THE ('oxFf:ss/o.y< or a dim, it. 2:>\ As I Iiiid niy mliinj? houd on inv pillow I iiiunmir.>«l ; " Hud I bot'ii nil Amcriciui citizen, luueh iis I Ih-Uovc in s>..• sih i-: '" At this dinner J contrasted tlie look of anxiety w 'h the callons indifference ..t" a face I had watelied nn«ler simi! • l.iit AtiU atn in rttrlvJMMt,)IW Can«,IMO. CkaakiftiMi P4lii»r, ft xm. wtrIu. I^ Talis VnttkT««lHM. ' Mftint da Pxltt * it PiiuL \ REMOVU. , li»Mk*4« VtuuMaauBtricoU A SKETCH OK Blur.ASOKK. still more unique eireunistances a few years before : the face of the chief of French ^^os^-mz-.s— General Boulanger—whom I Mas asked to meet at dinner in London. It happened to be the night the result of his defeat at th(> polls was mad(> known. He sat, the one man out of the scorc-and-iive coneeiiu-d ; but as telegrams were handed to him, of defeat, not success, he never showed any signs of interest. 252 COXF£SSIOSS OF A VARICATI'RIST. A few years afterwards, when on tour with my leeturo- entertamments, I -p„t in" a week in the Channel Islands under the .natiaRement of a gentleman Mho had been in' tnnately acquainted with lioulanger when he was a ,>olitieal recluse m Jersey; and one afternoon he drove mo to the eham.ng vdla the General had oeeupied, situated in an ideal «pot on the coast. The villa was most solidly l.uilt, and of p.ctums,,uearclutect«re-the freak of a rich Parisian n,ereha„t, ^.ho had spared no pau.s or money over it. The work In.tl insuleandout wasthatof the best artists I'aris could supply It was magn.heently fui-nished-a museum of beautiful oblcts ami curious ones, too. One bedroom was a model of an otturrs apartments on board a man-of-war, even to th,. water (munted, splaslnng through a porthole. Another bedroom was a repu.u ot an otHcer's tent. These were designed and urmshedforthe sons of th<. I'arisian nu-rchaut, .uJJZ domestic HMMm n.^ver went near his ,,ctite judace. He lent it to Hon anger, .„.l there ho lived the life of an exih-d n.ona^-h Ihe plac has never becm t.mched since he walked out of it u the state-room, n, which he received political .leputations of iHs supporters fron. France, the chairs were arranged in a e„ 0. On the blotter was Ins speech, an.l a sheet of paper on ^ nch was written the address of the retreat. This was g von to me, and here I rei)ro(luce it :— '^ We had coty „ tl.(> balcony, s-rvcl out of ,.hina wl.i..h had on It his monugnuh, and silver spoons with his crest. I Cm\ not Tilt: roxFEssinss of .i />/.VA7i'. i»r).i pockot the spoons, nor the powdor-puff of >[mliUMo, and oth ivlics lyiiif? alxoit; the rooms remained as .Jiev Mcro left to gowns in the wardn.h*-. The deh'fjhffid "jjanh'n, ciit ,., of the rocks, had rini wihl. Tlie grap.>s Innif; in clusters tl even lUt flow ers wer of eoh the paths le mass J?i-as8. \W\n\w stood the summer-house wlunv Mat marks all over it, the result of tlu^ (LMieral's practirc, when possibly he used the same revolver which lu> turned up.m himself at the t<.ml) ..f Madam(> dc> H.mnemain, in the cemetery at Ixelles, llrussels. It would he impossible for me in a sliort «hapter to (h-al with all the interestinj; dinners an«l other entertainments I Imve attended : but J must con- fess that I was ininu>nscly flat- tered by a lunch given to me in Washington by the He v. Dr. \Vry tine and large Lynhaven oysters. W<' Knglisli. with one exception, have un appreciation of the size of these huge American oysters. That one cxceptii>n was Thackeray. And I may safely say that I never sat down to a nica! in America and expressed my siM|irise at the ize of the oysters (which I pii.|».se|y did) but that someone told me what Tlui'keray said of them. On this occasion 1 was told the .story by noi'.e other tluni (Jenenil Horace Torter, one of A XOTK ox MV MK.Vr 2r)4 royFfJS.S/O.YS OF A CARJCATrRlST. the best if not tlio greatest of all mco„t>^:ec^X^ IIK.M.M!K.MII.i: AM> MIcM TAI.KKK Ml I.IM H To Mi; AT WAMIISOToN. T|||: AI T( HJIi Ai-IIS o.\ |!\( K n|' MKNC. rilK COXFESSIOXS OF .1 inXKU. 255 was invited to mcM't the lat«' Jain«>s I'ayn, wlio had oxpirssed such a stroiifj; desire to make his ae«|uai»taii,'hly relished. I .shall pass uv«'r his theatrical stories and select two which followed, and which are so typical of American humoin-, that I v;ive them in full. A poor man on tramp in tlu" country one fine July dav staf,'f,M'red in an exhaust. -d state into the f;arden of a ri.li stop-ah,here-ah ! " iNo sir, nchber eb<'n hesitated '" On May the 17th, 1888, I ga^e a dinner at the Ganiek Club to my fellow-workers on P /, and others,-a nu-ny neett^ of twe„ty-f,.ur. Mr. F. (A ]3urnand was at the other end of h? table, and as the s.,.,jH, y,,, .,.,,, ^,,,_^. ,,^,^.^,,^,^^^^. j^;^«*^|he the near ai)i)roaeh of the end of the dinner I noticed a mis- ehievous look in JJurnand's eyos, and it struck nie he intended to make a .speech .' As th.-re was no " ..hject " in my giving the dinner except a j)urely social one,— iu fact to reciprocate the h«)spitality of some present whom I ,„uhl not ask to my house in con>e<|uence of iny wife's long illin'ss, -T naturally «„«.n fAr i> .. **'!* ''xtremcly anxious when I ^aM that Mr. 1 urnan.l i,.ten,lev than hinted at, and of ......rs. said I ;:;;;;r ■'■'':' -'i t.. sp..king. ..... i the.. t,.mb,eu about mv l.o.ket^, ami nervously p.-.,,!,,...,., ,„, .„„,,.. ,.,„.^.^. ,„^, ,^^^.. -^ rut: voyFEssioxs of a dixkh. ihl them out in a lonj; culumn in front of me. My guests looked with i»ity upon me, and their dismay was evident M'lien I l)e-'an as I follows eak ( london " I was born — T was born — in 18o4. I — I- (break down). Note No. 2. " I came to Loudon— I eanie to 'Hear, hear," murmured the sufferers. Another eollapse, - I sought other "notes." "Art— urt (ireek art- 'Ilear, hear, ha, ha I" (T «H« ■h hey were beginning to guy ine I) (anotlier painful pause). "(ientleniei '' Yes, yes, we know all about that \ " " Yes," I said, "but, gentlemen, bef<»re that toast is honoured [ beg to propose to you a toast. Tlie toast, always th«' ,H;-mi,;- toast in every gathering composed of hluglisii genth-men." The jok<' was then mine. In the nu»st jierfunctory and glib manner 1 gave the Koyal Toast. After it was duly hon..urn[ 1 gave the secdud Loyal Toast, "The ll..us<> of Lords,"' " The Houses of rarliament," "The Army, Navy and iJrserve Torces," (iich time ealling upon souie one or two to respond. The reply tor "The Navy," 1 r(>eolle.-t, f.-ll to Sir Sp,.neer Wells, who was originally in tlu> Navy. (The Army had a legitimate representative.) We hae.ie im to his lcgs,^l think I am right in saying the only occasion on which he ever spoke. I coujded his name with '• Oi)en Spaces " (Sir l{..bert Hunter, the champion of "open spaces," had responded the tirst time). It struck me that I was paying Keene a compliment when 1 referred to his marvellous talent in depicting commons and fields and vast spaces in his uncfiualled drawings of landscapes. " Umph : Furniss, I see, chaffs me about leaving so much white in my work— not filled up with little figures like his." * And I do not think he ever understood I intended to compliment him. Towards tl.>e end I received a memorandum in pencil on a soiled piece of jjaper : And he walked in dciir old Tooh' in an (»ld coat. I have given many iinotlicr sociable dinner, but none with greater success than this at which 1 turned Ihirnand's acfidentally unhappy speech iiilu ;t Happy Thought. When I was offered the chairmanship .if the dinner of the Lr.iKhm Thirtrin Chib, it was with a light heart (hat 1 accepted. I was un.ler the impressiun tliat the dinner was to be a private kind (if affair— a small knot of men endowed witli coirimon sense meeting to expn-ss their contempt for ignorant and TIIK COXFESSfOX.s OF J DISKR. 259 harmful superstition. I liad already had the honour of boini? oleeted an honorary member of the Cluh, but somehow or other I had nev«.r attended any of its featherings, nor had 1 met with one of its members. When the time eanu-, it was witli a heavy heart that I fulfilled my promis... This Thirte,,, Club id^,, whieh hails from America, had in the meantime been " boomed," us our cousnis across the lL>rring I'ond w.,uld put it, into an affair of THIUTKK.V Cl.IIt llAXyUKT. THK TAltl.l.; HKCOKATIOXS. f?r<'at ma-uitude. It was tak(>n u}) by the IMrss, and para- f?raphs, leaderettes ami leaders appeared in nearly everv journal all over the country. This is the styh' of para-lapli l' ivceived throufrh a I'lvss cutfinfr ajieiicy fn.m numbcHess i.apers : ''Mr. AN, II. ]{lauch, who has bet n elected President <.t' tl:<> Lond.Mi Tliirl<'en Club for the year |S'.»|, is the promoter of an (.rs;aiiis,.d protest against the popuhir superstition which h-d to tile lorniatiou of the Thirteen Club four vcars ii-o. In his new position as President, Mr. iJlanch has" ,.vi(b-nUy rcs(dvcd s 2 260 COXFESS/oy.S OF A VAKlVATiHlST. In i I : i Hi upon a moro vigorous aud aggrossivo camiiaifin than that M-hich has hitherto characterised the operations of the Chib, for the New Y(>ar's dinner which is announc<'d to take phiee on Satunhiy, the l:!th of January, promises to he something altogetlier uniciue as a social gathering. Mr. Harry Funiiss, one of the hon. niemhers of the Chib, will presi(U> at this dinner, which is announc<'d to take phice at the Ilolboni Restaurant, and in room No. 13. The members and their friends will occupy 1 3 tables, with of cours<« 1:} at each table, and jjcrhaps needless to say peacock feathers will abound, whilst the knives and forks will be crossed, and any quantity of salt will be spit. During the evening the toastmaster on this Honu'what memorable occasion, instead of informing the assembled comi)any that the Chairman will be happy to take wine with them, will vary this stereo- ty2)ed , if possible, cross-eyed waiters on tlie ..ccasiou of the .New Year's I'.inuer ot Mil. \V. II. lil.AXeil. riiE roxFKssm.xs or .i ihxhr. 201 1 ti:k bkokkx i,ooKisa-(ii.Ass. tlu'l'hil* (tvcr whicli Mr. IIiutv Furniss is annoiimccl to preside on tin- lotli inst. Mr. Hump, X\w iiimmf?«r, wliilo uiidcrta iii),' fliat tln' Chairman's table »liall !)«• waitcrt'd u.h rciiucstcd, lias gnivo doubts wbi'thtT the siipidy of Maitors bloss«>d in the way described will 1m> e«iiial to the Iarg«' nd it is the Ch.b's objoct by this uirans to kill sup..rstit.,m. Some, lik.. Mr. A.tdn-w Lang, may think it a 77/ A' roXFJ-Jss/oXs of .{ DIXKK. I'ti.l pity t(. iiihTti'iT with this hunihug, hut I vnitiiiv to think it is a charity Avlicn our rs thi- ahNunlity n*' ichiciitcd nii>ii of the i)i08 felt that tliat year woidd he his last. Fancy that for a man of the world, who is also a puhlic man, and a meniher (tf thti (ioveniment at the time of the dinui-rl lie was also a charming companion and a (h-lightful friend, and no man I knew had a wider circle of acquaintance. I hujt- pened to accompany him in a six weeks' tour on the Ctnitinent during the year he believed fatal to him, or perhajis it may hav(> Leon the year previous; aiiy\Mi\. he was sulfering from tluit horrible complaint, super- stition. H(> tirst nuidc me aware of it the night we arrived in Paris by thumping at my door in :i terrible state to implore uic t») change rooms with him — his number was otl, and it terrified him ! Next day we tnnclled in a carriage niimliere;! jli, mid mv friend was miserable. At the tlieutre his seat was 'yi\, the ticket for his coat was TjC. oO was the nundM-r of the tirst shop he entered tu buy soirie triHe I suggested to liiui. huh-ed, 1 may at once cdnfess tliat i took care that •"»(; sliuuld crop up as often as possible, as j thouglit that that would be the best way to cure the patient. Not a liit of it; ho ^'ot worse, anil was really ill until his oiith birthday was passed. To take the chair at tiiis '• most unifiue" banciuct, as the l»apers styled it, was no easy task, and to lie waiteil upon by cross-eyed menials was quite "■nougli to make a sensitive. S(^lJI.Vi'-i:VKU W.VITKIt. i MKIOCOrV nSOWTION TIST CHAIT (ANSI and ISO TEST CK r No 2) A /APPLIED IM^OE In 1651 E,'le, .\nd my throttle with un^juents ruh, I'll drink — in a t,'lass of Thirteen port — To the health of the ' Thirteen Cluh.' 266 VOXFESSlOyS OF A CAIUVATCRIST. " It may be that some l>rif,'lit Thirteenth They may ask me to Dinner a>,'ain ; It may lie I then shall be able To spenk without jierfect pain. It may be my unstrung larynx May speak once again irith icunls : For the present, excuse me — along of My poor Lost (Vocal) Chords ! ! ! " I was relieved and amused to find one pn^sent even a little more embarrassed than myself. He was a rotund, happy- looking man of the Avorld, and he had to sit isolated during part of the dinner, as his guests were afraid lo attend the uncanny banquet. However, the Secretary, being a man of resource, ordered two of the cross-eyed attendants to till the vacant jilaces. I shall never forget the face of the poor man sandwiched between them. Dur- ing the course of the dinner the black-edged business card of an "Undertaker and Funeral Fur- nisher," of Theobald's Eoad, liloomsbury, Avas brought to me. Under the impression that he had supplied the coffin-shaped salt- cellars, and wished to be paid for them, I sent to enquire his busi- whereupon the undertaker sent me in the following telegram he had just received from Cambridge : ^ " Call upon Harry Furniss this evening Holborn Eestaurant Thirteen Club Dinner Vr orders re funeral arrangements." The receiver of th. telegram, I lea- nt from his card, bad been in business fifty-four years, but evidently this was the first time he had been the victim of this The . re Hookish joke. 1 called COFFINS, SIR ! ness ^- THE VOXFESStOXS Of A DIXEH. 21)7 the funeral furnisher in. Unobserved by the groen-tiod guests and the cross-eyed waiters, he walked through the batKiuetlng hall, and as soon as he arrived at the chair, black-gloved, ....t in hand, with the ominous foot rule projecting fi-oni the pocket of his funereal overcoat, I stood up and introduced him to the company, read the telegrani, and iuvited him to go roimd the tables and take the orders. Whether it was that the man of coffins met the gaze of any particularly cross-eyed waiter, or was overcome by the laughter called forth by my solemn request — an outbreak foreign to the ears of a gentleman of his calling— I know not, but he promptly vanished. Later in the evening a re- quest came from him for a present of one of the coffin- shaped salt-cellars, and no doubt the one I sent him will adorn his Avindow for another fifty four years, to the delight of the Cam- bridge undergraduates whose little jok( was so successful. In place of the old- fashioned formula, " The Chairman will be pleased to drink wine with the g 'ntle- nien on his right," and then on his left, the Toastmaster had to announce that the Chair- man woidd be pleased to " spill salt " with those on his right, etc. ; but force of habit was too strong, and " drink wine " came out, and although this was corrected, it Avas strange that in some cases the guests held up their glasses and did not spill salt. Of course, throwing salt over the shoulder Mas prohibited ; that superstitious operation would have been sutficieut to disqualify anv member. THK Cir 'iMAX Wll,Ii UK l'l,KASK» TO SPiT.i. SAi/r WITH you. Fmm llie " >'/. -famen's /Imhjfl." 268 COXF£SS/OXS OF A VARK'ATURlsr. Beside caclx member was placed a looking-glass, and in the course of the (evening it went forth that " Th(. Chairman will be pleased to shiver look- ing-glasses with the mem- bers," and smash ! smash ! went the mercury - coated glass all over th«> tables. It then fell to me to P'-eseut each of the thir- teen chairmen wiih a pen- knife, refusing of course the customary coin in return. I was presented with a fcrocious-iooking knife, with a multiplicity of blades and other adjuncts, which I treasure as a me.iento of the dinner. These are a few trifles I had to deal with in addition to the usual toasts, and I fervently trust it may never again be my lot to be called upon to take the chair at a " unique banquet " entailing such surp) -ses and shocks and so many speeches : I proposed the loyal toast as follows :— The A KNIFK I W ' 'IKSEXTKU WITH. 77/ A' COXfKSS/O.XS or .1 hlXKIi. L'ti'.t I hud » point to iiuiko, Imt forgot it (oh, those si|uintiiiju; waiters !), sliowing that 18!>4 was a vi'rv unhieky year. Ho\v«*vtr, any mathoinatician oouhl prove that '!l4 = !>-|-4 == 1.!. (J./\.lJ. I might also liuve really utilisi'd only thirt«>en words in giving the toast of the evening, as follows : On my way to the Thirteen Clnh Dinner I met a well-known J'tiiir/t artist, als(» a keen man of the world. I invited him. He started with horror. "Not for worlds I I mn snp»>rsti- tious — never more so than at this moment. Why, do yon know that this has been a most nnlneky month with me V Every- thing has gone Mrong, and I'll tell yon why. The other night I woke np and went to my bedroom window to see what kind of a night it was — rash, stupid fool that I was I Wliat do you think I saw?" "A burglar?" " Xot a bit of it— I wouldn't have eared a pin for a brace of 'em. I saw the new moon through glass I That's why everything's gone wrong Avith me. Wlu.t a fool I was!" "What a fool you mr ."' I ejaculated, as I jumped into a hansom for room l-'J, recalling to mind that my fellow-worker was not the only humorist who has been superstitious. Albert Smith, the well-known author and entertainer, was very superstitious, and a curious incident has been related me by a friend who was present one night when Smith startled his friends by a most extraordinary instance of his fear of tlie 270 roxFEssioys of a cA/t/f'ATi'/t/sr. suiK'nmtural. It was in tlio smokinR-io..m of tl.,> old Fieldinff Club, on N.nv Year's Kvo, l8.-)4. The bells were just ringing in the Nevv Year when Smith suddenly started up and cried, " We are thirteen ! Ring, ring for a waiter, or some of us will die befor(> the year is out I " Before the attendant an-ised the fatal New Year camo in, and Smith's cup of bitterness was full to overfl(.wing. Out of curiosity my friend wrote the names of all th.)se present in his pocket-book. Half of them were ordered to the Crimean War, and fo.ight throughout the campaign. No doubt Smith eagerly scanned the lists of killed and wounded in the papers, for as the waiter di. it arrive in time to break the unlucky number, one of them as sure to meet his death However, all the officers returned safe and sound, and most of them are alive now. The first man to depart this life was Albert Smith himself, and this did not happen until six and a half years afterwards. Correspondence from the superstitious and anti-super- stitious po-ired in upon me. But I select a note received by the President some time before the dinm . as the most interesting : " Chkistunia, Norway. iiii,^?.?-^ ''\r" Tr ^f"^' '" ^"''"^ **" ''""iveiwv dinner on the 13th of this month, and I take the hherty to send you tlie foUowinL' • "In 1873 March 20th. I left Liverpool in the steamship Atlantic, hen hound for New York. On the 13th day. the 1st of April, we went on the rocks near Hahtux, Nova Scotia. Out of nearly 1,000 human beings. 580 were frozen to deatli or drowned. "The first day out fro.n Liverpool son.e ladies at my table discovered that we were thuteen, and in their consternation requested their gentleman. companion to move to another table. Out of the entire thirteen, I was the only one that was saved. I was asked at the time if I did not believe in the unlucky number thirteen. I told tiiem I did not. In this case the l)elievers were all lost and tL unbeliever saved. •' Out of the first-cabin j issenKers save.l, I was one of the thirteen saved. '• M the North- Western Hotel, in Liverpool, there can be found thirteen A?'"? ','U'^r x^ "^ P«««en«ers that left in the Atlantic on the 20th of March, 18<3, for New York ; amongst them my own. Everv one of those passengers except myself were lost. 77/ A* ritx/KSS/oX.s of .1 DIXKH. •11 \ •• Now, if tlu'sc iiii'iiioraiKliiiiis iil)<)iit tlu' iiuiiiIh'I- lliiitci'ii- I»\ ihic tluit diHiS not In-lifve in it- is of any inu-ifst to you, it will jiIimm' nic vi-iv mticli. " I iini, yours very truly, " N. Bkanpt " 9, KoNOENh (i MiK." It is tibsurd to say that I have hrcii unlucky sincj! presiding at that dinner. Dn tlir <(»ntrai-y, I liavo hcu most lucky— I have never presided at another I 1 1 'it C'lIAPTKR XIV. THE CONFKSSIOXS <»F AX KDITOI!. Editors— Publisheis— All Offtn— Why I Rffused it— The Pall Mall Ji,„h,,'t-Lika .loko-Thv X,;r «//,/,/,•/— The Truth aboi t niv Enter- prises — All lifiiiir .' Only tho fortumto — or should we not ratluT sny tho uii- fortunato ?— man Avho has made up liis mind to product" a j(nirnal of liis own can have tho very faiuti'st oonccption of , work and Avorry, tho pj;ins and penalties, the hopes an jieeuliar predicament. For weeks before the promised periodical sees the lig'at vlic unfortunate proprietor feels himself to be a very Atlas supporting Heaven knows how many c(»smic schemes. The first editor of my acquaintance was a little boy in knickerbockers, with a lavish profusion of auburn locks, an oM-fashioned physiognomy, a wiry if diminutive frame, and a quick, nervous temperament, whose youthful eyes had beheld the suns of fourteen summers. ^[y last editor is one whose physique would be commonly qualified by the adjective jiuchjy, of a full face, but with head somewhat depleted of its capillary adornments, for which deprivation it has to thank the snows of six-and-forty winters. Our intimacy has been of long standing, for my first and last editor is one and the same being — the present m riter. From the day that I, as a little schoolboy, seated on the uncompromising school -form looked upon as a necessary adjunct to the inception of knowledge, produced in MS. and for private circulation only my first journalistic attempt, up to the present mo-nent, 1 can confidently assert that during my '7/ A- roAFKSS/ftXS OF AX KhlTlUr :>7:i yarifd oximtIoiu'c | ii.vtT was I.inu-rlit into ((.ntiict wifli a innir intorostiiiR s(«l (»f incii than tlios*' I have s,M«n stivt«hf.l iii»..n the editorial rack. TliL' piiinai-v mniiiTmcnts wlijch tond to niak.' up the com- position of an editor are g(»od health, an inipenetral.ly thick skin, and tlie best of humour. Secondly, he nnist W al.h> to command experience, a thirst for work, and the power ot applicati;s manager. ' Mi( if the youngest and most successful newspaper proi)rietors oitiled me a fool. I wrote and asked him mIiv. We had an i ■> iew. He said frankly : " You are a fool, in my opinion, l>roducing t.^) good an article for the money. The public Hot appr( • iat«' good work, and you will never make a com- »a«irei«rl ^^uccess of yoiiv paper. Your staff is too good ; your j»rintiu^ lo go..(l : yonr paper is too good. I am a success becaii-i kiiow wh re to buy paper cheap and sell it for a protit ! !!:!'.- thirty puolicatious, but their names, their con- tents, wii' or art I never think about, nor does the public I . — vol ,. T 274 COXFfJ.ss/oys OF A ('. r/f/sr. eitlicr. Wo ink something on tho pn^ .., and sell it ut si. nuu'h a pound proHt." But I had nothing wliatovor to do with the comm.'roial side of the an-angeinents connected Avith ventures nNsitciated with my name. Ah ! how little the jjublic know what goes on behind the scenes in the newspaper world ! If you stop a publication with which your name is associated, everyone at once, very properly, dubs you a failure. As what ? An editor, of course. That is the mistake, the injustice. How many periodicals have the most talked of publishers started and stctpped ? Scores of them. Yet are they therefore failures? No, no more than the 11,. tger of a ' »tio is Mho produces a pi<>ce whicL runs a night or two an* omes off. He still has his theatre, and other pill vs. Sc is It in the publishing world. It is the i. ulated editor, without the machinery of a big office, « • «!'e head o, . I.e man of commerce, — if he stops, from whatever c. .v, his one effort is the failure! The "successful pub- lisher" stops a dozen new ventures in the same time, and he is still considered successful. A publisher is very much like a conjuror : he must start two or three tricks, so that if one is likely to oo »vrong Ik can draw the attention of the public oft" it by another, and tlu' first is quickly dropped or rehitroduced under another name. My one mistake in publishing was that having started a success, Li/ca Joko, I let it drop to ti .i"oprietors of an influential daily and weekly paper to edit a sixpenny hi^h- cla. it I wuuld start a paper "onnocti'd soldy wi»i. ;:iy name, hut w! hing to havi. the largest risk myself j took tii.« largest shar- fnver ^•'),0()0 in cash), and allowed a few t<. join me. It wi's derid.-d to drop the idea of a monthly and make it a hinnor..us weekly. LIKA JOKU. That name was originat<>d some years hefore hy ^fr. Hurnaiid and myself jointly in a chatting eonversation. It was universally couneeted with me, but as it has been sai.l thai 1 had no rii,'ht to use it, I here reproduce a dceument thai settles anv doiibt on that point : '•This in to ceitify that Hairv Funiiss lias thi- solu ii«tit to us., tho i.ume of ' I.ika Joko.' That ho is at jihw-ty to uso it in anv way hi- wishrs. and no one elno can adopt o • »ilise ih,. iiani« Nvith.xii liispriinissiuii. vSifjnt'd) !•'. ('. HiitsANi.. E same g-reat man declared the title I h .d sdected was a fatal mistake ! The first friend I consulted about capital suggested c€2(),(»0(). He was very rich, but said that he vould only put cash in equal to what I myself would. I pu^ ; .wn i:0,0(»0, and he followed suit. I subsequently added mere. The rest of the capital was found by various fricndd. My friends subsequently said that as I supplied the editorial •276 COXFESSIOXS OF A CARWATURIST. brains I ought not to have supplied the largest share of the capital ! I was requested by my friends to introduce a business man, accustomed to publishing, and leave all business arrangements to him. My friends brought in two. Yet 1 am held responsible for the business arrangements made ! Few new periodicals have caused moi'c interest. The scene at the railway stations and book-stalls was unparalleled. We could not print quick enough to supply the demand. 140,000 copies went off in a few days — which, for a threepenny humorous journal, is a record. It is said I wTote the journal myself. I never wrote one line in it from the first number to the last. I had the best writers money could procure, and I venture to say it was the best-written paper of its class ever produced in England. ■ It is said I illustrated it all myself ! I had in the Jirat mimhcr alone George du Maurier, Bernard Partridge, Fred Barnard, A. C. Corbould, W. Ralston, J. F. Sullivan, G. Ashton, W. D. Almond, J. B. Yeats, and myself. Ten artists I — eight of whom have contributed to Punch. In subsequent numbers I added work by Sir Frank Lockwood, Arthur Hopkins, Gordon Browne, "W. Maud, W. F. Thomas, C. Richardson, Louis Wain, G. Montbard, James Greig, "Rab," Max C'owper, J. H. Roberts, Rend Bull, S. Adamson, J. E. Donnison, W. II. Overend, Charles Burton Barber, A. T. Elwes, Hal Hurst, F. Miller, E. F. Skinner, George Morrow, J. Jellicoe, A. Greenbank, and others — in all nearly forty artists, and this in six months ! I have another inaccuracy to nail to the counter of Dame False Rumour's shop. That I stopped Li/txt Jukn because it waa a failure. The facts about this incident are brief and instructive. Mr. Astor stopped his artistic weekly, the Pall Mall Biiihjct, siuldenly. It so happened it was printed in the same office as fjt7,(( Juki). This very paper, which had prevented me accepting the editorship of the proposed new sixpenny weekly paper, and had driven me into publishing a threepenny THE COXFESSIONS OF AX EtUTOlt. 277 weekly, was "put to bed" (to use a printer's plirase) week after week side by side with mine. I was sent for one Saturday mominf?. The expensive sixpenny child was to die that day. Could I not adopt it ? There was a chance — splendid eircida- tion, splendid returns for advertisements. Why then does Mr. Astor discontinue it ? Because, I was told, Mrs. Astor had just died, it was so dear to her that Mr. Astor felt he could not continue it,' for purely sentimental reasons. This was pathetically explained to nie. it was so natural. Yet why should such a splendid paper cease when 1 had a large proprietor with capital waiting to start one ? 1 was the man. So I was told, and so I believed, and so I proved to be. Not a moment was to be lost. 1 was with Sir George I^ewis. Has Mr. Astor any objection? He thought certainly not. I therefore engaged the same statf, the same printers, the same paper and machines were used. The paper, with the exception that the title was changed from the Pull Mall to the New Biidyct, came out in four daj's — the following Wednesday morning. Sir William Ingram was the first to purchase a copy. The whole edition was sold out before sunset. 1 have been assured that this was the smartest journalistic feat on reccird. I then sought the people whom I had advised not to oppose this very paper, but they were on the Continent. I would bring it out and await their return. They did return, liut it unfortunately happened that in the meantime they had speculated in one of those American imported " booms " of illustrated literature and lost I Lika Joko came out too, and I immediately met all the members of my company and placed both papers before them, my New Jiitdyet and our joint i)roperty Lika8. Her name was the Pall Mall Budget. Week after week she left port, well 278 COXFESSIOSS OF A CARKJATVRlST. manned, well rigged, laden with passengers, and made a prosperous voyage. No vessel in her own line was belter built and appointed, and gradually she drew away those people who once had travelled by her rivals, and carried them herself. " And then, one day, without assigning any reason, the ship- owner forbade her ever again to leave port, and nothing could shake his resolve. " Now, there was at this time also afloat a merry little passenger bout which made a weekly cruise in waters only occasionally entered by the larger vessel, and her name was Lika Joko. No sooner did the news of the great sliipowner's decision reach the ears of the captain of the Lika Joko than he made all sail for port, drew up alongside of the Pull Mall Budget, and boarded her. " Then he asked her captain and crew, who were all regretful at the loss of their vessel, if they would put to sea again in a vessel built by himself, as like the Pall Mali B>„l capital to cany on the Budyei, and as 1 had been deceiveti, it was THE COXFESSinXS OF AX EDVrOH. 279 arraugcd that they should rctii-c with their unused capital, and I carried on the New Budget with my own capital of £6,000. The paper cost me <£100 a day — £700 each number. I had the best artists, the best writers, the beet printers — the same as Mr, Astor — but here comes in my difficulty. As I had amalgamated Lika John with the New Btidget, I was legally bound to the contract made with the advertising manager. That contract worked out in nearly every case at 40 per cent, commission for advertisement. That finished me. "Was that editorial or business ? I think the latter. Was 1 to blame ? I think not. As the American millionaire had discovered before me that it was impossible to give a shilling.sworth for sixpence (although I ran it for a longer period than he did), I ceased its publicition. Few papers, it has been said, were more admired than this artistic and refiued Xew Budget, and I take this opportunity of denying that it was in any way a failure compared witli papers in existence for years still losing money, and I am sincerely proud of my contribution to the publishing of periodicals. But had I not been deceived, and dropped Lika Joko, that paper would now have been a splendid property. I confess that the financial loss, severe to a professional man who has made it all by his own hand, was not what ups(>t me. I am not a gambler — I never bet a shilling in my life l»ut I thought better of my fellow-men than they deserve. What did trouble me was that I never was given credit for my pluck. I was, and I am still, grossly misrepresented by a certain section of journalists. When the Pall Mall Bndget was discontinued^ was it written down a failure ? No, certainly not. A pathetic excuse was manufactured. That excuse was as clever as it was untrue, as I discovered to my cost. I think the man who stepped in single-handed, saved the Pall M(dl Bndget as I did to the benefit of contributors, printers, and paper-makers, wh(» then strangled his own child-pap(>r and gave all the money at his disposal to keep the Budget going, who was desertea by his Company in conseiiuence — they taking with them their remaining capital — who fought on, and lost thousands 280 rnxFEssinxs of a caricaturist. ami thousands of pounds more of hi^ own money, who worked night and day for months without any encouragemer.t, any return, wh' discovered he had been deceived pU round, and then, findiii this, paid everyone every penny and &„'d nothing, but turned round and went on with h's own professional work, is surely a man at least to be respected; certainly not the man to be belittled, misrepresented, and maligned by brother workers. I have other matters to confes:-. regarding my experiences of publishing— but they will keep. T am anxious, howover, that the facts recorded in this chapter should bo kuown, as a warning to ot'.ors who like myself, being a successful editor, imagine that editing can make a commercial success without . commercial pilot. I paid for my experience— I do not regret . . lUlAlmrllV, A(i.NK\V, li CO. M>., I'llINTKlls, LOXDIIN AXl) TC>\inUl)