PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 100. February 7, 1891. THE "MODEL HUSBAND" CONTEST. SCENE THE FIRST--_AT THE GALAHAD-GREENS'_. _Mrs. G.-G._ GALAHAD! _Mr. G.-G._ (_meekly_). My love? [Illustration] _Mrs. G.-G._ I see that the proprietors of _All Sorts_ are going to follow the American example, and offer a prize of £20 to the wife who makes out the best case for her husband as a Model. It's just as well, perhaps, that you should know that I've made up my mind to enter _you_! _Mr. G.-G._ (_gratified_). My dear CORNELIA! really, I'd no idea you had such a-- _Mrs. G.-G._ Nonsense! The drawing-room carpet is a perfect disgrace, and, as you can't, or won't, provide the money in any _other_ way, why--Would you like to hear what I've said about you? _Mr. G.-G._ Well, if you're sure it wouldn't he troubling you too much, I _should_, my dear. _Mrs. G.-G._ Then sit where I can see you, and listen. (_She reads._) "Irreproachable in all that pertains to morality"--(and it would be a bad day indeed for you, GALAHAD, if I ever had cause to think _otherwise_.')--"morality; scrupulously dainty and neat in his person"--(ah, you may well blush, GALAHAD, but, fortunately, they won't want me to _produce_ you!)--"he imports into our happy home the delicate refinement of a _preux chevalier_ of the olden time." (Will you kindly take your dirty boots off the steel fender!) "We rule our little kingdom with a joint and equal sway, to which jealousy and friction are alike unknown; he, considerate and indulgent to my womanly weakness,"--(You need not stare at me in that perfectly idiotic fashion!)--"I, looking to him for the wise and tender support which has never yet been denied. The close and daily scrutiny of many years has discovered"--(What are you shaking like _that_ for?)--"discovered no single weakness; no taint or flaw of character; no irritating trick of speech or habit." (How often have I told you that I will _not_ have the handle of that paper-knife sucked? Put it down; do!) "His conversation--sparkling but ever spiritual--renders our modest meals veritable feasts of fancy and flows of soul ... _Well_, GALAHAD? _Mr. G.-G._ Nothing, my dear; nothing. It struck me as well,--a trifle _flowery_, that last passage, that's all! _Mrs. G.-G._ (_severely_). If I cannot expect to win the prize without descending to floweriness, whose fault is _that_, I should like to know? If you can't make sensible observations, you had better not speak at all. (_Continuing_,) "Over and over again, gathering me in his strong loving arms, and pressing fervent kisses upon my forehead, he has cried, 'Why am I not a Monarch that so I could place a diadem upon that brow? With such a Consort, am I not doubly crowned?'" Have you anything to say to _that_, GALAHAD? _Mr. G.-G._ Only, my love, that I--I don't seem to remember having made that particular remark.