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Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 102, June 11, 1892 by Various

V >> Various >> Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 102, June 11, 1892

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"Does the noble Lord," said SPEAKER, with bland sarcasm, "rise to
second the Amendment?"

Now the Amendment was WILFRID LAWSON's, and met with direct negative
proposal to adjourn over Derby Day. Last time question to the fore
ELCHO had moved the Adjournment. To suppose he was now going to back
up WILFRID LAWSON in opposing it was an exquisite jape, worthy of the
Chair. But ELCHO capped it. "Yes, Sir," he gravely answered.

This was a flash of humour everyone could see. The crowded House,
wearied with what had gone before, positively jumped at it. But it was
a kind of joke that had to be lived up to. Could ELCHO do it? Would
he spoil it by going too far, or would he shrink affrighted from the
position audaciously assumed? He did just the right thing, in tone,
manner, and matter, affording the House the merriest moments ever
enjoyed on a deathbed. It seemed so good that it was idle to expect
anything better to follow. But something there was. It was the
Division, in which ELCHO, walking up to the Table by side of WILFRID
LAWSON, acted as co-teller whilst the figures were announced that
abolished the Derby Day holiday in the House of Commons. ELCHO had had
his jest, and the Opposition had his estate.

_Business done._--Motion for Derby Day negatived by 158 Votes against
144.

[Illustration: "6 to 4." (_t. and o._)]

_Wednesday._--Spent quite cheerful Derby Day in Commons. House met
shortly after twelve; when I say House, I mean the SPEAKER and me.
"Dearly beloved TOBY," said the SPEAKER, "it seems we're to have the
place to ourselves." But presently HOWELL arrived, and GEDGE, terribly
afraid that he should miss prayers. "I suppose my opportunities will
not be extended. Stockport doesn't seem to care to have me in the new
Parliament, and I'm not aware of any competition for my hand among
other constituencies. So I mean to make the most of what time is left.
I fancy they'll at least miss me at St. Margaret's. Proudest moment in
my life, TOBY, when the other Sunday, I overheard one of the Vergers
saying to another, 'Man and boy I've been in this 'ere church for
forty year, but I never heard a Amen carry so far as Muster GELGE
pitches his.' It's something to be appreciated, TOBY. Can't say that
House of Commons has taken to me kindly; but toward what may be the
close of a Parliamentary career, the tribute of this honest Verger is,
I will admit, soothing."

(12:25.)--GEDGE moves Count; bells ring; SQUIRE OF MALWOOD strolls in
with the pleased expression of a man who might be at the Derby, but
isn't; HORACE DAVY and some others; all told only 13. "If you'll
excuse me. Gentlemen," said the SPEAKER, "I'll retire; look in again
little later."

[Illustration: "Formerly of the Herts Militia."]

(1 P.M.)--SPEAKER back in Chair; ATTORNEY-GENERAL moves Count; bells
ring as before; SQUIRE OF MALWOOD again comes in; no deception; wasn't
lurking about with intent to show up in House, then rush off to catch
half-past twelve train for Epsom. Heads counted; only 19 present;
must have forty or no House. "Look here, Gentlemen," said the SPEAKER,
"this won't do. The Chair is not to be trifled with. I shall again
retire, and won't come back till four o'clock, or till I am assured
there are forty Members present."

SPEAKER gathered up skirts and strode forth. Three hours before
House can be Counted Out. What's to be done in the time? ELLIOT LEES
determines to make a book; 6 to 4 no House (_t. and o._); HENRY FOWLER
wouldn't bet; but ROBY put something on, and ALBERT ROLLIT staked a
fiver.

(4 P.M.)--SPEAKER back again; House much fuller now; ELLIOT LEES
looking anxious; made a nice book if he can only pull it off. But
arrival of half a dozen Members would upset everything. ROBY and
ALBERT ROLLIT rushing about corridors trying to bring men in; LEES
KNOWLES moves Count; more ringing of bells; ROLLIT and ROBY, on
picket-duty to last moment, nearly locked out; SPEAKER counts; finds
only 35. "The House will now adjourn," says the SPEAKER. "Don't see
why we should have met at all," says ROBY, snappishly. "I do," says
ELLIOT LEES, making his little collection. "I've had a pleasant and
profitable afternoon."

_Business done._--House not made.

_Friday._--House met at two o'clock; might have sat till seven; but
at five minutes to five gently broke up. Won't be back till Thursday.
"Not much of a holiday." said Viscount GRIMSTONE, formerly of the
Herts Militia; "better make the most of it;" and he set off at the
rate of five miles an hour.

_Business done._--Adjourned for the Whitsun Recess.

* * * * *

[Illustration]

THE VIGOROUS VICAR.--Dr. MILLS of Coventry, to which place his
bitterest enemies cannot relegate him as he is already there, acts
up to his name, as a Member of the Church Militant, with pluck and
perseverance, whether right or wrong it is not for _amicus curiae_ to
say. But, it may be asked, is this action for the rates, on the part
of the Vicar, a Vicar's first-Rate Act or not? Some parishioners
suspend payment; we suspend judgment.

* * * * *

VERY NATURAL ERROR.--A gentleman who up till now has been a quiet
sort of man, with nothing suggestive of the "P.R." about him, sent
to excuse himself from appearing at our old friend Mrs. RAM's
dinner-party, because as he wrote to her nephew, who read the
letter aloud, "I am off to see Woodhall Spa." "What!" she exclaimed,
"Prize-fighting beginning again! And isn't Mr. WOODHALL or WOODALL a
Member of Parliament? He ought to know better. Where are the police?"

* * * * *

"IT WILL WASH!"--"Abolition of the House of Peers!" No, stop--spell it
with an "a," and make it "Pears,"--now a Company Limited. Going along
in first-rate style. The Pears' Soap Christmas Book, illustrated,
is to be a new edition of "_His Soaps Fables_." Next form of
advertisement,--"Very good morning! Just bought Pears' Soap Shares."

* * * * *

FRENCH PLAYS IN LONDON.--The old saying applies, "They do these things
better in France." London prefers to go to Paris for its French plays;
but when two rivals, a BERNHARDT and a COQUELIN, come over to London,
Londoners give the lady a chance of making her charming voice heard,
but the clever French actor has, literally, to "shut up."

* * * * *

ROYAL DECISION.--When the QUEEN goes from Balmoral to Mar Lodge, Her
Majesty takes a Deesided course.

* * * * *

NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS.,
Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no
case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed
Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.




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Obituary: Donald Westlake
Articles published by guardian.co.uk Books

Theatre review: Three Women, Jermyn Street, London
Obituary: Prolific crime novelist, Oscar-nominated screenwriter and man of many pseudonyms

Obama to feature in Marvel comic

We do not know the women's names, but their voices are quite distinct. All are pregnant. But while the first woman awaits the birth of her baby with a moon-like serenity, the other two are not so lucky. One, whose previous pregnancies have failed to go to term, is experiencing a heartbreaking late miscarriage; the other is a young student whose accidental pregnancy will end in her child being put up for adoption.

Sylvia Plath's only play was never intended for the stage, being broadcast instead on BBC radio in August 1962. Less than six months later, Plath killed herself, but not before the burst of astonishing creative energy that produced her extraordinary, terrifying Ariel poems.

Anyone who knows Plath's poetry will see the connection between Three Women and Plath's subsequent poems, particularly in the way she talks about the agony of childbirth, the rush of love for this tiny alien being, and both the wonder and wounded rawness of motherhood. It is a beautiful piece, full of startling imagery that draws you in through the sheer intensity of its femaleness, and because it so precisely articulates the emotions that are often thought but seldom voiced by women - certainly not in the early 1960s - about men, motherhood and our relationship to our bodies.

It's been 20 years since there has been an attempt at a professional stage version and - in a theatre world that happily accepts the poetic offerings of Sarah Kane and Debbie Tucker Green, or the staged possibilities of The Waves, one of Plath's own inspirations for the piece, I see no reason why it shouldn't be brought to life. Sadly, it doesn't breathe here, in a production by Robert Shaw that is clearly a labour of love, but which never finds a way to give the internal a physical reality. Plath's poetry, like most babies, is more robust than it appears - and won't break if treated with a little less reverence and considerably more grit.

Instead, what we are offered is tinkling piano music, mournful mood lighting, an innocuous pale setting, as well as three perfectly good but indisputably ladylike performances that capture none of the wounded redness of Plath's poetry, and do her the disservice of making her sound bleached and somewhat prissy. It's a pity. What might have been a wonder ends up a mere curiosity.

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