* * * * *

“WAX TO RECEIVE, AND MARBLE TO RETAIN.”

[Illustration:  “Whacks to Receive.”]

According to an evening paper, the wedding-present of Colonel GOURAUD to a distinguished couple took the novel and charming form of a phonograph, recording, for all time, the musical portion of the marriage ceremony.  In all probability, this precedent will be widely followed, and a set of waxen phonographic cylinders will be a familiar feature in the list of presents at every wedding of any pretensions to smartness.  Still, there may be cases in which those who intend to imitate Colonel GOURAUD’S example would do well to consider first whether the conditions are equally appropriate.  For instance, young JACK RIVENLUTE is not a bad fellow, though he may not be given to sentiment, and VIOLA MANDOLINE is a very charming girl, if she is apt to be a trifle high-flown and exacting at times.  When they marry—­(they have not even met at present, but they will marry, the year after next, unless Mr. Punch’s Own Second-sighted Seer grossly deceives himself)—­when they marry, VIOLA’S Uncle JOHN will be the person to present them with the then orthodox phonograph and appurtenances.  But if he could foresee the future as distinctly as Mr. Punch’s Seer has done in the following prophetic visions, he might substitute a biscuit-box, or a fish-slice and fork, a Tantalus spirit-case, or even a dumb-waiter, as likely, on the whole, to inspire a more permanent gratitude.

FIRST ANNIVERSARY—­SAY, IN 1893.

SCENE—­A CHARMING DRAWING-ROOM. TIME—­ABOUT 9:30 P.M.

    Mr. RIVENLUTE is on a chair by the open window; Mrs.
    RIVENLUTE on a low stool by his side.

Mrs. R. (for the fiftieth time).  I can’t ever thank you nearly enough for this lovely ring, JACK dear!

Jack (rather gruffly).  Oh, it’s all right, Pussy.  Glad you like it, I’m sure.  Do they mean to bring in the lamps?  It’s pitch dark.

Mrs. R. I’ll ring presently—­not just yet.  It was so dear of you to remember what day it was!

Jack (who only just remembered it in time, as he was driving home).  Been a brute if I hadn’t!

Mrs. R. You couldn’t be a brute, JACK, if you tried—­not to me. I’m so glad we haven’t got to go out anywhere to-night, aren’t you?

Jack (heartily).  Rather!  Beastly bore turning out after dinner.  What on earth are you up to over there?

Mrs. R. (who has risen, and has apparently been winding up some instrument in the corner—­as she returns).  Oh, it’s only something I wanted to do this evening....  Now, JACK, listen!

[The phonograph begins to click and whirr.

Jack.  That beastly cat in the room again!  Turn it out quick—­it’s going to be ill.