OUR POLICE
Running Commentary on the New Code, by Verges Wrongscent, Esg.
Before considering the duties of the Police, it is necessary to say a few preliminary words about their dress. The law then—as if
disputing the truth of the well-known proverb—that holds that “ it is not the coat that makes the man, insists that it is the coat that makes the Policeman. And to such a jolly length does it carry its conviction on this point, that it makes the assumption of the character of a Constable a punishable offence, enjoining that “any person who puts on the dress, or takes the name, designation, or character of a Constable for the purpose of doing, or procuring to he done, any act, which such person would not be entitled to do, or pro
cure to he done, of his own authority, or for any other unlawful purpose, shall he liable, in addition to any other punishment to which he may be liable for such offence, to a penalty of £10.” It is clear from this that the appearance of a Policeman in the Harlequinade of any Pantomime is a punishable offence within the meaning of the
Act, and that Messrs. Gilbert and Sullivan’s chorus, in the Pirates of Penzance, should have inflicted on those Gentlemen, conjointly with Mr. D’Oyley Carte, a nightly fine of about £160 during the whole run of the Opera in question; and this, too, “ in addition to any other punishment,” probably imprisonment with hard labour,
that they may have subjected themselves toby “procuring to be done,” a series of acts calculated to bring the Force into contempt. As there are now one or two other companies in the field, this neglected matter may prove even yet worth the attention of rival Managers.
But to resume the subject of the Constable’s dress. He may on no account improve on it, but must wear it in its rough simplicity, as it is. Article YII., for instance, strictly forbids any “ combination of uniform,” however happy in conception. No Policeman of the most artistic tastes would, therefore, he allowed to have his uniform made of pale sage green cotton velvet, or wear with it a rich Spanish Cloak, Beefeater’s halberd, and Life Guard’s helmet. Nor again would he in the severest thunderstorm be allowed to carry an um
brella. Indeed so stringent are the regulations that preserve the uniform intact for the benefit of the Force alone, that Article IX. enjoins that on a Constable being suddenly dismissed for any offence,
all his clothing shall be instantly taken from him “excepting only one pair of trousers and one pair of boots, of an issue prior to the two latest issues; ” a costume which, even in fair condition, and it is more than doubtful that this would be the case, would entail on him a most embarrassing walk from the station to the houseof his nearest relatives.
Close, and almost niggardly, however, as are the precautions taken in one direction, a lavish ana indeed spendthrift outlay is sanctioned in another, or if the Constable in uniform is allowed little or no licence, the Detective in plain clothes may be said literally to revel in it.
From Article X. it appears that Constables, in order that they may he able on all occasions to appear in such costume or costumes as may be necessary to a prosecution of the particular case on which they are engaged, and that they may not be forced “to wear an attire, to which exception may be taken, and which may tend to lower them and the service in the estimation of the public,” shall receive “ the sum of one shilling a day to cover their expenses.”
Still as this would not amount to much more than £18 per annum, a Constable, who had an extremely delicate and difficult case in hand, in which he might have, in the interest of justice, at one time to personate an Archbishop in full canonicals, at another a Royal Duke wearing a portion of the family jewels, would find it no easy matter to make ends meet, and could scarcely fail to lower himself and the service in the eyes of everybody. If, too, the roles of half
a-dozen country Gentlemen and leaders of Society should happen to be thrown in as well, it is obvious he would find himself at a serious disadvantage. He might, of course, fall back upon cheap materials, and try to carry off the circumstanoe with tact. As the prelate he could perhaps throw in some such remark as “Dear me ; how odd! I’ve come out in my cotton cassock and, calico sleeves ! But I’ve got my others at home. You ask mu examining chaplain ! ” As the Royal Duke in inferior tweed, he could whisper, with well-assumed ton, to a casual stranger, now and then, “that he was economising.” In this way suspicion might be disarmed. But these are mere matters of detail, and refer only to the least important portion of the Detective’s duty—his personal appearance. .
The rules for his guidance and conduct offer far more serious and interesting matter for further comment and consideration,
CANNING APPLIED.
In making “ Conventions” the fault of the Dutch Is yielding too little and grabbing too much.
Suggestion.—Perhaps the smells at Hackney arise from the Hackney-Wick not having been properly extinguished.
A SPANISH INVESTMENT.
(By Our Electric Light-brained Artist, who says he took it on the
Black Spot.)
The Garter Procession. Hon. G. L. Gower in hat, plume, and feathers; Lord W. Compton balancing his book of Statutes; Viscount Donne ; Count Up
with the Star; Don Jose Merrimafios bearing banner symbolising the bonds of Onion between Spain and England.
The remainder of the Procession giving a performance on the rond while the King was having the Garter tied on in the Throne Room. [N.B.—For reasons, we have been inquiring for our Electric-Light-bramed Artist ever since these Pieturi s came in. Was he really in Spain ? Anyone who can Fumiss-h us with information on the subject shall be rewarded.—Ed.]
MORE GHOSTS!
Oh, spirits of my ancestors, come back to me once more,
And walk up-stairs with spectral feet, and fumble at the door ; Waltz in when strikes the midnight hour on every moonlight night, Till all the servants warning give because they ’re in a fright;
And if you ’re kind enough to wish to make the thing complete, Don’t wear your ordinary clothes, but don the proper sheet.
And ever and anon lift up a thin and warning hand,
And mutter many mystic words that none can understand; Sigh in the unfrequented rooms, or give a ghostly laugh, So that I thrill all those who read the Daily Telegraph,
And make them shudder even o’er their matutinal toast,
When I describe you and your tricks, my old ancestral ghost!
No doubt a sceptical M.D. the public will beguile,
And hold the visions that I saw were nothing else but bile, But still young people will believe the awful things I say,
For I shall work you up, my ghost, in quite a business way ;
And on the knifehoard of the ’bus they ’ll vow it must be true, And swear that Hamlet s queer Papa was not a patch on you !
A Cheap Home.
u “ A Young Lady,” says an advertisement in a daily paper, “ willing to assist in teaching young children French and music in the morning, can be received in the home of a clergyman’s widow for £10 a year.” What a modest clergyman’s widow! She adver
tises for a governess, and expects the young person to pay her forty pounds a year for the privilege of teaching her children. The young ladies of the period ought to be grateful for such a splendid opportunity.
Running Commentary on the New Code, by Verges Wrongscent, Esg.
Before considering the duties of the Police, it is necessary to say a few preliminary words about their dress. The law then—as if
disputing the truth of the well-known proverb—that holds that “ it is not the coat that makes the man, insists that it is the coat that makes the Policeman. And to such a jolly length does it carry its conviction on this point, that it makes the assumption of the character of a Constable a punishable offence, enjoining that “any person who puts on the dress, or takes the name, designation, or character of a Constable for the purpose of doing, or procuring to he done, any act, which such person would not be entitled to do, or pro
cure to he done, of his own authority, or for any other unlawful purpose, shall he liable, in addition to any other punishment to which he may be liable for such offence, to a penalty of £10.” It is clear from this that the appearance of a Policeman in the Harlequinade of any Pantomime is a punishable offence within the meaning of the
Act, and that Messrs. Gilbert and Sullivan’s chorus, in the Pirates of Penzance, should have inflicted on those Gentlemen, conjointly with Mr. D’Oyley Carte, a nightly fine of about £160 during the whole run of the Opera in question; and this, too, “ in addition to any other punishment,” probably imprisonment with hard labour,
that they may have subjected themselves toby “procuring to be done,” a series of acts calculated to bring the Force into contempt. As there are now one or two other companies in the field, this neglected matter may prove even yet worth the attention of rival Managers.
But to resume the subject of the Constable’s dress. He may on no account improve on it, but must wear it in its rough simplicity, as it is. Article YII., for instance, strictly forbids any “ combination of uniform,” however happy in conception. No Policeman of the most artistic tastes would, therefore, he allowed to have his uniform made of pale sage green cotton velvet, or wear with it a rich Spanish Cloak, Beefeater’s halberd, and Life Guard’s helmet. Nor again would he in the severest thunderstorm be allowed to carry an um
brella. Indeed so stringent are the regulations that preserve the uniform intact for the benefit of the Force alone, that Article IX. enjoins that on a Constable being suddenly dismissed for any offence,
all his clothing shall be instantly taken from him “excepting only one pair of trousers and one pair of boots, of an issue prior to the two latest issues; ” a costume which, even in fair condition, and it is more than doubtful that this would be the case, would entail on him a most embarrassing walk from the station to the houseof his nearest relatives.
Close, and almost niggardly, however, as are the precautions taken in one direction, a lavish ana indeed spendthrift outlay is sanctioned in another, or if the Constable in uniform is allowed little or no licence, the Detective in plain clothes may be said literally to revel in it.
From Article X. it appears that Constables, in order that they may he able on all occasions to appear in such costume or costumes as may be necessary to a prosecution of the particular case on which they are engaged, and that they may not be forced “to wear an attire, to which exception may be taken, and which may tend to lower them and the service in the estimation of the public,” shall receive “ the sum of one shilling a day to cover their expenses.”
Still as this would not amount to much more than £18 per annum, a Constable, who had an extremely delicate and difficult case in hand, in which he might have, in the interest of justice, at one time to personate an Archbishop in full canonicals, at another a Royal Duke wearing a portion of the family jewels, would find it no easy matter to make ends meet, and could scarcely fail to lower himself and the service in the eyes of everybody. If, too, the roles of half
a-dozen country Gentlemen and leaders of Society should happen to be thrown in as well, it is obvious he would find himself at a serious disadvantage. He might, of course, fall back upon cheap materials, and try to carry off the circumstanoe with tact. As the prelate he could perhaps throw in some such remark as “Dear me ; how odd! I’ve come out in my cotton cassock and, calico sleeves ! But I’ve got my others at home. You ask mu examining chaplain ! ” As the Royal Duke in inferior tweed, he could whisper, with well-assumed ton, to a casual stranger, now and then, “that he was economising.” In this way suspicion might be disarmed. But these are mere matters of detail, and refer only to the least important portion of the Detective’s duty—his personal appearance. .
The rules for his guidance and conduct offer far more serious and interesting matter for further comment and consideration,
CANNING APPLIED.
In making “ Conventions” the fault of the Dutch Is yielding too little and grabbing too much.
Suggestion.—Perhaps the smells at Hackney arise from the Hackney-Wick not having been properly extinguished.
A SPANISH INVESTMENT.
(By Our Electric Light-brained Artist, who says he took it on the
Black Spot.)
The Garter Procession. Hon. G. L. Gower in hat, plume, and feathers; Lord W. Compton balancing his book of Statutes; Viscount Donne ; Count Up
with the Star; Don Jose Merrimafios bearing banner symbolising the bonds of Onion between Spain and England.
The remainder of the Procession giving a performance on the rond while the King was having the Garter tied on in the Throne Room. [N.B.—For reasons, we have been inquiring for our Electric-Light-bramed Artist ever since these Pieturi s came in. Was he really in Spain ? Anyone who can Fumiss-h us with information on the subject shall be rewarded.—Ed.]
MORE GHOSTS!
Oh, spirits of my ancestors, come back to me once more,
And walk up-stairs with spectral feet, and fumble at the door ; Waltz in when strikes the midnight hour on every moonlight night, Till all the servants warning give because they ’re in a fright;
And if you ’re kind enough to wish to make the thing complete, Don’t wear your ordinary clothes, but don the proper sheet.
And ever and anon lift up a thin and warning hand,
And mutter many mystic words that none can understand; Sigh in the unfrequented rooms, or give a ghostly laugh, So that I thrill all those who read the Daily Telegraph,
And make them shudder even o’er their matutinal toast,
When I describe you and your tricks, my old ancestral ghost!
No doubt a sceptical M.D. the public will beguile,
And hold the visions that I saw were nothing else but bile, But still young people will believe the awful things I say,
For I shall work you up, my ghost, in quite a business way ;
And on the knifehoard of the ’bus they ’ll vow it must be true, And swear that Hamlet s queer Papa was not a patch on you !
A Cheap Home.
u “ A Young Lady,” says an advertisement in a daily paper, “ willing to assist in teaching young children French and music in the morning, can be received in the home of a clergyman’s widow for £10 a year.” What a modest clergyman’s widow! She adver
tises for a governess, and expects the young person to pay her forty pounds a year for the privilege of teaching her children. The young ladies of the period ought to be grateful for such a splendid opportunity.