April 4, 1885.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

157

THE AMATEUR CANDIDATE.

By Our Special Reporter.

Special, like a soldier,
only has his orders. I
have suffered not a little
in the various commis-
sions with which I have
heen entrusted. As an
Amateur Maniac, at a
moment when the Public
was furiously interested
—for nearly a week—in
Private Lunatic Asylums,
I have endured hardness,
imprisonment, excessive
shower-baths, and dis-
agreeable company, while I so conscientiously worked up the jjart
with which I was entrusted, that I was released, with the utmost diffi-
culty, from the kind care and select establishment of my Keeper.

As an Amateur Welsher, too (when the Public wanted a view of
Welshing “from within”—that is, from the outside of the King),
I have been chivied, beaten, ducked, and three-quarters killed.
But when you, Mr. Punch, requested me to disguise myself as a
Bed Candidate, and to woo the caresses of the Mob—I mean one of
the Patent New Constituencies—I confess that I almost shrank
from the task. Every man has his soft place, and mine is a disin-
clination to he “mixed up,” as they say, with Politics. Amateur
unacy, Amateur "Welshing, I can stand, but, as an educated man,
onlessA .t from Politics I have an instinctive shrinking. How-

' r’,Pr.ote,3S10Ilal pride came to my aid, and I undertook to do what
you desired.

My orders were to disguise myself as an Extremist of the most
incredible principles. Some days spent in study of Mr. Henry
uloRGe, and of the address and rebuke which the Ripon Liberal
Association presented to Mr. Goschen, completed my political edu-
ation. I was next introduced to an intelligent tradesman, a Raf-
ik ei1"’ who had great influence with the Extreme Six Hundred of
rue Slums and District. My opponent, I should say, in the affec-
tions of the Constituency was an opulent dealer in Antiquities,
cnieny old clothes—Mr. Ikey Mo. My object, of course, was to
overbid this capitalist in my political offers. I got on very well with
“ 6 rUeUial Batcatcher, who was, by descent, a scion of an island
*>tab e for its verdure and its wrongs.” Home Rule,—the sooner
e better, paid Members for Ireland, the restitution of landed
property to the descendants of its true heirs, evioted under Brian
aoru .were attractive plarks in my platform. I had afterwards
modify some of the planks, and portion out the land to the deni-
ns ot the Slums, rent-free ; but that was only one of a series of
progressive _ modifications. Political education, when you are
1T'-e’ *s exceedingly rapid,
j T friendly Rafcatehtr, Mr. Brallaghan, then gave the names
and addresses ot the Extreme Six Hundred, with whom lay the choice
between Mr. Mo and myself. To my astonishment, I only received
on® hundred and thirty names.

. Why, where are the other four hundred and seventy?” I
inquired.

1 There ain’t no more of us nowhere,” said Mr. Brallaghan,
somewhat sullenly. “ It ain’t quite good enough.”

^Bat is not good enough P ”

Why, Sir, you know it won't go round among so many,—and
times is bad,” said my friend and political Mentor.

“I am sorry, Mr. Brallaghan,” I replied, “that none of my
Clubs permit members to introduce strangers at luncheon, but may I
have the pleasure of offering you refreshment at a more liberal bar ? ”
He was a little mollified, and we entered the “ Seven Tuns ”

together. When my hospitalityjhad softened the Roman virtue of
this politician, I asked him, once more, why there were only one
hundred and thirty men in the famous Six Hundred. But I only
gathered from him that these patriots could not afford to be more
numerous, “ ft won’t run to it, Sir,” he added, with a wink.

“ But how are you appointed ?” I inquired.

“Why, thirty of us met in this ’ere public, and every cove
brought in a friend, or a brother-in-law or two, and ’ere we is, all
snug and comfortable.”

No other explanation was offered, and I set out to win the pro-
mises of the Extreme Association Six Hundred, or rather, “ all that
was left of them, left of Six Hundred.” These earnest men had the
power of choosing the Extreme Candidate for the whole constituency;
no other need apply; they were, in brief, the Constituency itself, for
an “ Oligarch” has a poor chance in the Slums.

Well, Sir, I went about among the Extreme One Hundred and
Thirty. I promised everything I thought attractive: disestablish-
ment of everybody, Home Rule, the Royal Family on board wages,
reduction of the Army; they all said the Navy was reduced enough
already. I proposed to make Professor Freeman Viceroy of India,
and I kept repeating that remark about “ unabated loyalty to the
fortunate Statesman, who still so happily controls the destinies of
the Empire,”—what there is of it. 1 would make Lord Wolseley
withdraw from the Soudan; and if he couldn’t withdraw, why, I
would leave him there. These pledges, however, were received with-
out enthusiasm. They had already heen swallowed by Mr. Ikey
Mo, and the electors appeared hut little interested. The Fish-
mongers bade me swear to support Billingsgate. The Greengrocers
urged me to rally round Covent Garden. The Butchers insisted
that it must be made penal to sell Australian meat, except at a re-
duction to the Trade, who could dispose of it as native produce.
All demanded the disestablishment of the Civil Service Stores.
These pledges I took, and I began to have a horrid apprehension
that I might be the chosen of the Extreme Six Hundred, and might
sit for the Slums.

The night approached when the Six Hundred were to meet, and
choose between me and Mr. Mo. I went round to my supporters,
beginning with the Ratcatcher.

“ You will he there, Mr. Brallaghan,” I said. “ I rely on you."

“ Well, you see, Sir, my ’art is with you, but these is ’ard times,
and a Plumber, as works with me, has turned down a lot o’ rats in an
’ouse in Bedford Square, and I’m to have the job that very night.”

“But you won’t let profit stand between you and your duty to
your country ? ”

“Well, Sir, I’m a family man, and chances is scarce,—curious
how rare rats is, just now ; ’ard times, Sir. A couple o’ pounds, now,
would see me ’armless,” and Mr. Brallaghan looked hard at me.

“ But that is Bribery and Corruption, Sir,” I said, hastily.

Whereupon this leading politician made some remark, about
“ Stowing my blooming gammon.” As he was attended by his bull-
dogs, I hastily withdrew, and looked up my other supporters in the
Six Hundred. It was the same story everywhere. One had to carry
a banner in the “ Britannieroxton,” another had a pal’s place as a
cab-tout, a third actually told me he “’ad a crib to crack down
Norwood way ; ” everyone, in short, had some lucrative engagement
which prevented him from being present at the meeting of the
Extreme Six Hundred. My political education had not advanced so
far as they hoped, and I did not “ see them ’armless.” Next morning
I read, in the papers, that Mr. Mo was the Red Candidate for the
Slums, and the chosen of the Six Hundred.

You will receive, Sir, the bill for my expenses, which, as you will
perceive, were considerable.

WOLF!

The Railway Ogre is hungrily agape for another mouthful.

Fe ! fi ! fo ! fum !

I spy a nook in an East End slum,

A place where of old they buried their dead,

I ’ll Bnap it up to make my bread.

Sings the Ogre—alias the London Tilbury and Southend Railway.
And so it will, if not prevented. Miss Octavia Hill, the ever-
vigilant vampire-defier, is, however, on the watch. The Mill Yard
Burial Groutid, says she, would make a garden or playground. Why
then should the Railway Ogre override the Disused Burials Act, so
lately passed for the express purpose of dealing with such poor plots
in the interest of the poor ana not of the monopolists P That question
will require a very complete and conclusive answer to bring Mr.
Punch or the British Public round to the Fi-fo-f am view of the
question. _

To Telegrams and all Pen-and-Ing-wxbers.—“ Pump-Handle
Court Papers ” will be resumed next week. Mr. Briefless, Junior,
was compelled to take a little rest after his arduous labours.

VOL. lxxxvtii.

v