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diff --git a/13639-h/13639-h.htm b/13639-h/13639-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..944d466 --- /dev/null +++ b/13639-h/13639-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2255 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Mac OS X (vers 1st August 2004), see www.w3.org" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>Punch, or the London Charivari. July 17, 1841.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[*/ + +<!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + ul {list-style-type:none;} + .note {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;} + + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + +.figure, .figcenter, .figright, .figleft {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} +.figure img, .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img {border: none;} +.figure p, .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} +.figcenter>p {text-align:center;} +.figcenter {margin: auto;} +.figright {float: right; width:25%;} +.figleft {float: left;width:25%;} + span.sidenote {position: absolute; right: 1%; left: 80%; font-size: .7em;text-align:left;text-indent:0em;} + sup{font-size:.7em;} + .dropcap {float:left; width:25%;} + --> + +/*]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13639 ***</div> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> +<h2>VOL. 1.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page1" name="page1"></a>[pg 1]</span> +<h2>JULY 17, 1841.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE MORAL OF PUNCH.</h2> +<p>As we hope, gentle public, to pass many happy hours in your +society, we think it right that you should know something of our +character and intentions. Our title, at a first glance, may have +misled you into a belief that we have no other intention than the +amusement of a thoughtless crowd, and the collection of pence. We +have a higher object. Few of the admirers of our prototype, merry +Master PUNCH, have looked upon his vagaries but as the practical +outpourings of a rude and boisterous mirth. We have considered him +as a teacher of no mean pretensions, and have, therefore, adopted +him as the sponsor for our weekly sheet of pleasant instruction. +When we have seen him parading in the glories of his motley, +flourishing his baton (like our friend Jullien at Drury-lane) in +time with his own unrivalled discord, by which he seeks to win the +attention and admiration of the crowd, what visions of graver +puppetry have passed before our eyes! Golden circlets, with their +adornments of coloured and lustrous gems, have bound the brow of +infamy as well as that of honour—a mockery to both; as though +virtue required a reward beyond the fulfilment of its own high +purposes, or that infamy could be cheated into the forgetfulness of +its vileness by the weight around its temples! Gilded coaches have +glided before us, in which sat men who thought the buzz and shouts +of crowds a guerdon for the toils, the anxieties, and, too often, +the peculations of a life. Our ears have rung with the noisy +frothiness of those who have bought their fellow-men as beasts in +the market-place, and found their reward in the sycophancy of a +degraded constituency, or the patronage of a venal +ministry—no matter of what creed, for party <em>must</em> +destroy patriotism.</p> +<p>The noble in his robes and coronet—the beadle in his gaudy +livery of scarlet, and purple, and gold—the dignitary in the +fulness of his pomp—the demagogue in the triumph of his +hollowness—these and other visual and oral cheats by which +mankind are cajoled, have passed in review before us, conjured up +by the magic wand of PUNCH.</p> +<p>How we envy his philosophy, when SHALLA-BA-LA, that demon with +the bell, besets him at every turn, almost teasing the sap out of +him! The moment that his tormentor quits the scene, PUNCH seems to +forget the existence of his annoyance, and, carolling the +mellifluous numbers of <em>Jim Crow</em>, or some other strain of +equal beauty, makes the most of the present, regardless of the past +or future; and when SHALLA-BA-LA renews his persecutions, PUNCH +boldly faces his enemy, and ultimately becomes the victor. All have +a SHALLA-BA-LA in some shape or other; but few, how few, the +philosophy of PUNCH!</p> +<p>We are afraid our prototype is no favourite with the ladies. +PUNCH is (and we reluctantly admit the fact) a Malthusian in +principle, and somewhat of a domestic tyrant; for his conduct is at +times harsh and ungentlemanly to Mrs. P.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>“Eve of a land that still is Paradise,</p> +<p>Italian beauty!”</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>But as we never look for perfection in human nature, it is too +much to expect it in wood. We wish it to be understood that we +repudiate such principles and conduct. We have a Judy of our own, +and a little Punchininny that commits innumerable improprieties; +but we fearlessly aver that we never threw him out of window, nor +belaboured the lady with a stick—even of the size allowed by +law.</p> +<p>There is one portion of the drama we wish was omitted, for it +always saddens us—we allude to the prison scene. PUNCH, it is +true, sings in durance, but we hear the ring of the bars mingling +with the song. We are advocates for the <em>correction</em> of +offenders; but how many generous and kindly beings are there pining +within the walls of a prison, whose only crimes are poverty and +misfortune! They, too, sing and laugh, and appear jocund, but the +<em>heart</em> can ever hear the ring of the bars.</p> +<p>We never looked upon a lark in a cage, and heard him trilling +out his music as he sprang upwards to the roof of his prison, but +we felt sickened with the sight and sound, as contrasting, in our +thought, the free minstrel of the morning, bounding as it were into +the blue caverns of the heavens, with the bird to whom the world +was circumscribed. May the time soon arrive, when every prison +shall be a palace of the mind—when we shall seek to instruct +and cease to punish. PUNCH has already advocated education by +example. Look at his dog Toby! The instinct of the brute has almost +germinated into reason. Man <em>has</em> reason, why not give him +intelligence?</p> +<p>We now come to the last great lesson of our motley +teacher—the gallows! that accursed tree which has its +<em>root</em> in injuries. How clearly PUNCH exposes the fallacy of +that dreadful law which authorises the destruction of life! PUNCH +sometimes destroys the hangman: and why not? Where is the divine +injunction against the shedder of man’s blood to rest? None +<em>can</em> answer! To us there is but ONE disposer of life. At +other times PUNCH hangs the devil: this is as it should be. Destroy +the principle of evil by increasing the means of cultivating the +good, and the gallows will then become as much a wonder as it is +now a jest.</p> +<p>We shall always play PUNCH, for we consider it best to be merry +and wise—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>“And laugh at all things, for we wish to know,</p> +<p>What, after all, are all things but a +show!”—<em>Byron.</em></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>As on the stage of PUNCH’S theatre, many characters appear +to fill up the interstices of the more important story, so our +pages will be interspersed with trifles that have no other object +than the moment’s approbation—an end which will never +be sought for at the expense of others, beyond the evanescent smile +of a harmless satire.</p> +<hr /> +<h2>COMMERCIAL INTELLIGENCE.</h2> +<p>There is a report of the stoppage of one of the most respectable +<em>hard-bake</em> houses in the metropolis. The firm had been +speculating considerably in “Prince Albert’s +Rock,” and this is said to have been the rock they have +ultimately split upon. The boys will be the greatest sufferers. One +of them had stripped hia jacket of all its buttons as a deposit on +some <em>tom-trot</em>, which the house had promised to supply on +the following day; and we regret to say, there are whispers of +other transactions of a similar character.</p> +<p>Money has been abundant all day, and we saw a half-crown piece +and some halfpence lying absolutely idle in the hands of an +individual, who, if he had only chosen to walk with it into the +market, might have produced a very alarming effect on some minor +description of securities. Cherries were taken very freely at +twopence a pound, and Spanish (liquorice) at a shade lower than +yesterday. There has been a most disgusting glut of tallow all the +week, which has had an alarming effect on dips, and thrown a still +further gloom upon rushlights.</p> +<p>The late discussions on the timber duties have brought the match +market into a very unsettled state, and Congreve lights seem +destined to undergo a still further depression. This state of +things was rendered worse towards the close of the day, by a large +holder of the last-named article unexpectedly throwing an immense +quantity into the market, which went off rapidly.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>SOMETHING WARLIKE.</h3> +<p>Many of our readers must be aware, that in pantomimic pieces, +the usual mode of making the audience acquainted with anything that +cannot be clearly explained by dumb-show, is to exhibit a linen +scroll, on which is painted, in large letters, the sentence +necessary to be known. It so happened that a number of these +scrolls had Been thrown aside after one of the grand spectacles at +Astley’s Amphitheatre, and remained amongst other lumber in +the property-room, until the late destructive fire which occurred +there. On that night, the wife of one of the +stage-assistants—a woman of portly dimensions—was +aroused from her bed by the alarm of fire, and in her confusion, +being unable to find her proper habiliments, laid hold of one of +these scrolls, and wrapping it around her, hastily rushed into the +street, and presented to the astonished spectators an extensive +back view, with the words, “BOMBARD THE CITADEL,” +inscribed in legible characters upon her singular drapery.</p> +<h3>HUME’S TERMINOLOGY.</h3> +<p>Hume is so annoyed at his late defeat at Leeds, that he vows he +will never make use of the word Tory again as long as he lives. +Indeed, he proposes to expunge the term from the English language, +and to substitute that which is applied to, his own party. In +writing to a friend, that “after the inflammatory character +of the oratory of the Carlton Club, it is quite supererogatory for +me to state (it being notorious) that all conciliatory measures +will be rendered nugatory,” he thus expressed +himself:—“After the inflamma<em>whig</em> character of +the ora<em>whig</em> of the nominees of the Carlton Club, it is +quite supereroga<em>whig</em> for me to state (it being +no<em>whig</em>ous) that all concilia<em>whig</em> measures will be +rendered nuga<em>whig</em>.”</p> +<h3>NATIVE SWALLOWS.</h3> +<p>A correspondent to one of the daily papers has remarked, that +there is an almost total absence of swallows this summer in +England. Had the writer been present at some of the election +dinners lately, he must have confessed that a greater number of +active swallows has rarely been observed congregated in any one +year.</p> +<h3>LORD MELBOURNE TO “PUNCH.”</h3> +<p>My dear PUNCH,—Seeing in the “Court Circular” +of the Morning Herald an account of a General Goblet as one of the +guests of her Majesty, I beg to state, that till I saw that +announcement, I was not aware of any other <em>general gobble +it</em> than myself at the Palace.</p> +<p>Yours, truly,<br /> +MELBOURN</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page2" name="page2"></a>[pg 2]</span> +<h3>A RAILROAD NOVEL</h3> +<p>DEAR PUNCH,—I was much amused the other day, on taking my +seat in the Birmingham Railway train, to observe a +sentimental-looking young gentleman, who was sitting opposite to +me, deliberately draw from his travelling-bag three volumes of what +appeared to me a new novel of the full regulation size, and with +intense interest commence the first volume at the title-page. At +the same instant the last bell rang, and away started our train, +whizz, bang, like a flash of lightning through a butter-firkin. I +endeavoured to catch a glimpse of some familiar places as we +passed, but the attempt was altogether useless. Harrow-on-the-Hill, +as we shot by it, seemed to be driving pell-mell up to town, +followed by Boxmoor, Tring, and Aylesbury—I missed Wolverton +and Weedon while taking a pinch of snuff—lost Rugby and +Coventry before I had done sneezing, and I had scarcely time to +say, “God bless us,” till I found we had reached +Birmingham. Whereupon I began to calculate the trifling progress my +reading companion could have made in his book during our rapid +journey, and to devise plans for the gratification of persons +similarly situated as my fellow-traveller. “Why,” +thought I, “should literature alone lag in the age of steam? +Is there no way by which a man could be made to swallow Scott or +bolt Bulwer, in as short a time as it now takes him to read an +auction bill?” Suddenly a happy thought struck me: it was to +write a novel, in which only the actual spirit of the narration +should be retained, rejecting all expletives, flourishes, and +ornamental figures of speech; to be terse and abrupt in +style—use monosyllables always in preference to +polysyllables—and to eschew all heroes and heroines whose +names contain more than four letters. Full of this idea, on my +returning home in the evening, I sat to my desk, and before I +retired to rest, had written a novel of three neat, portable +volumes; which, I assert, any lady or gentlemen, who has had the +advantage of a liberal education, may get through with tolerable +ease, in the time occupied by the railroad train running from +London to Birmingham.</p> +<p>I will not dilate on the many advantages which this description +of writing possesses over all others. Lamplighters, commercial +bagmen, omnibus-cads, tavern-waiters, and general postmen, may +“read as they run.” Fiddlers at the theatres, during +the rests in a piece of music, may also benefit by my invention; +for which, if the following specimen meet your approbation, I shall +instantly apply for a patent.</p> +<h3>SPECIMEN.</h3> +<h4>CLARE GREY:</h4> +<h5>A NOVEL.</h5> +<hr class="short" /> +<h5>“Brief let me be.”</h5> +<hr class="short" /> +<h5>LONDON: Printed and Published for the Author.</h5> +<h5>1841.</h5> +<h4>VOL. I.</h4> +<p>Clare Grey—Sweet girl—Bloom and blushes, roses, +lilies, dew-drops, &c.—Tom Lee—Young, gay, but +poor—Loved Clare madly—Clare loved Tom +ditto—Clare’s pa’ rich, old, cross, cruel, +&c.—Smelt a rat—D—d Tom, and swore at +Clare—Tears, sighs, locks, bolts, and bars—Love’s +schemes—<em>Billet-doux</em> from Tom, conveyed to Clare in a +dish of peas, crammed with vows, love, despair, hope—Answer +(pencil and curl-paper), slipped through key-hole—Full of +hope, despair, love, vows—Tom serenades—Bad +cold—Rather hoarse—White kerchief from +garret-window—“’Tis Clare! ’tis +Clare!”—Garden-wall, six feet high—Love is +rash—Scale the wall—Great house-dog at home—Pins +Tom by the calf—Old Hunk’s roused—Fire! thieves! +guns, swords, and rushlights—Tom caught—Murder, +burglary—Station-house, gaol, +justice—Fudge!—Pretty +mess—Heigho!—‘Oh! ’tis love,’ +&c.—Sweet Clare Grey!—Seven pages of +sentiment—Lame leg, light purse, heavy +heart—Pshaw!—Never mind—</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/001-01.png"><img src= +"images/001-01.png" alt="Fellow operating a turnstile" id= +"img001-01" name="img001-01" width="25%" /></a> +<p>“THINGS MAY TAKE ANOTHER TURN”</p> +</div> +<h4>VOL. II.</h4> +<p>“Adieu, my native land,” +&c.—D.I.O.—“We part to meet +again”—Death or glory—Red coat—Laurels and +rupees in view—Vows of constancy, eternal truth, +&c—Tom swells the brine with tears—Clare wipes her +eyes in cambric—Alas! alack! oh! ah!—Fond hearts, +doomed to part—Cruel fate!—Ten pages, poetry, romance, +&c. &c.—Tom in battle—Cut, slash, +dash—Sabres, rifles—Round and grape in +showers—Hot +work—Charge!—Whizz—Bang!—Flat as a +Flounder—Never say die—Peace—Sweet +sound—Scars, wounds, wooden leg, one arm, and one +eye—Half-pay—Home—Huzza!—Swift +gales—Post-horses—Love, hope, and Clare Grey—</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/001-02.png"><img src= +"images/001-02.png" alt="A peg-legged, pirate cupid" id= +"img001-02" name="img001-02" width="25%" /></a> +<p>“I’D BE A BUTTERFLY,” &c.</p> +</div> +<h4>VOL. III.</h4> +<p>“Here we are!”—At home once more—Old +friends and old faces—Must be changed—Nobody knows +him—Church bells ringing—Inquire +cause—(?)—Wedding—Clare Grey to Job Snooks, the +old pawnbroker—Brain whirls—Eyes start from +sockets—Devils and hell—Clare Grey, the fond, constant, +Clare, a jilt?—Can’t be—No go—Stump up to +church—Too true—Clare just made Mrs. +Snooks—Madness!! rage!!! death!!!!—Tom’s crutch +at work—Snooks floored—Bridesman settled—Parson +bolts—Clerk mizzles—Salts and shrieks—Clare in a +swoon—Pa’ in a funk—Tragedy speech—Love! +vengeance! and damnation!—Half an ounce of +laudanum—Quick speech—Tom unshackles his wooden +pin—Dies like a hero—Clare pines in secret—Hops +the twig, and goes to glory in white muslin—Poor Tom and +Clare! they now lie side by side, beneath</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/001-03.png"><img src= +"images/001-03.png" alt= +"A man sitting on a bench next to a tombstone" id="img001-03" +name="img001-03" width="25%" /></a> +<p>“A WEEPING WILL-OH!”</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>LESSONS IN PUNMANSHIP.</h3> +<p>We have been favoured with the following announcement from Mr. +Hood, which we recommend to the earnest attention of our +subscribers:—</p> +<p>MR. T. HOOD, PROFESSOR OF PUNMANSHIP,</p> +<p>Begs to acquaint the dull and witless, that he has established a +class for the acquirement of an elegant and ready style of punning, +on the pure Joe-millerian principle. The very worst hands are +improved in six short and mirthful lessons. As a specimen of his +capability, he begs to subjoin two conundrums by Colonel +Sibthorpe.</p> +<p>COPY.</p> +<p>“The following is a specimen of my punning <em>before</em> +taking six lessons of Mr. T. Hood:—</p> +<p>“Q. Why is a fresh-plucked carnation like a certain +<em>cold</em> with which children are affected?</p> +<p>“A. Because it’s <em>a new pink off</em> (an +hooping-cough).</p> +<p>“This is a specimen of my punning <em>after</em> taking +six lessons of Mr. T. Hood:—</p> +<p>“Q. Why is the difference between pardoning and thinking +no more of an injury the same as that between a selfish and a +generous man?</p> +<p>“A. Because the one is <em>for-getting</em> and the other +<em>for-giving</em>.”</p> +<p>N.B. Gentlemen who live by their wits, and diners-out in +particular, will find Mr. T. Hood’s system of incalculable +service.</p> +<p>Mr. H. has just completed a large assortment of jokes, which +will be suitable for all occurrences of the table, whether dinner +or tea. He has also a few second-hand <em>bon mots</em> which he +can offer a bargain.</p> +<p>∴ A GOOD LAUGHER WANTED.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page3" name="page3"></a>[pg 3]</span> +<h2>A SYNOPSIS OF VOTING, ARRANGED ACCORDING TO THE CATEGORIES OF +“CANT.”</h2> +<p>There hath been long wanting a full and perfect Synopsis of +Voting, it being a science which hath become exceedingly +complicated. It is necessary, therefore, to the full development of +the art, that it be brought into such an exposition, as that it may +be seen in a glance what are the modes of bribing and influencing +in Elections. The briber, by this means, will be able to arrange +his polling-books according to the different categories, and the +bribed to see in what class he shall most advantageously place +himself.</p> +<p>It is true that there be able and eloquent writers greatly +experienced in this noble science, but none have yet been able so +to express it as to bring it (as we hope to have done) within the +range of the certain sciences. Henceforward, we trust it will form +a part of the public education, and not be subject tot he barbarous +modes pursued by illogical though earnest and zealous disciples; +and that the great and glorious Constitution that has done so much +to bring it to perfection, will, in its turn, be sustained and +matured by the exercise of what is really in itself so ancient and +beautiful a practice.</p> +<!--Transcriber's note: I have put a copy of the original image in the /images folder [votingcant.png] in hopes one day someone will make a nice table of it --> +<h3>VOTING MAY BE CONSIDERED AS</h3> +<ul> +<li>1st. He that hath NOT A VOTE AND VOTETH; which may be +considered, +<ul> +<li>1st. As to his CLAIM, which is divisible into +<ol> +<li>He that voteth for dead men.</li> +<li>He that voteth for empty tenements.</li> +<li>He that voteth for many men.</li> +<li>He that voteth for men in the country, and the like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +<li>2nd. As to his MOTIVE, which is divisible into +<ol> +<li>Because he hath a bet that he will vote.</li> +<li>Because he loveth a lark.</li> +<li>Because he LOVETH HIS COUNTRY. +<ul style="margin-left:-4em;"> +<li>[Here also may be applied all the predicates under the subjects +BRIBING, HUMBUG, and PRINCIPLE.]</li> +</ul> +</li> +</ol> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>2nd. He that hath A VOTE AND VOTETH NOT; which is divisible +into +<ul> +<li>1st. He that is PREVENTED from voting, which is divisible into +<ol> +<li>He who is upset by a bribed coachman.</li> +<li>He who is incited into an assault, that he may be put into the +cage.</li> +<li>He who is driven by a drunken coachman many miles the wrong +way.</li> +<li>He who is hocussed.</li> +<li>He who is sent into the country for a holiday, and the +like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +<li>2nd. He that FORFEITETH his vote, which is divisible into +<ol> +<li>He who is too great a philosopher to care for his country.</li> +<li>He who has not been solicited.</li> +<li>He who drinketh so that he cannot go to the poll.</li> +<li>He who is too drunk to speak at the poll.</li> +<li>He who through over-zeal getteth his head broken.</li> +<li>He who stayeth to finish the bottle, and is too late, and the +like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>3rd. He that hath A VOTE AND VOTETH; which is divisible into +<ul> +<li>1st. He that voteth INTENTIONALLY, which is divisible into +<ul> +<li>1st. He that voteth CORRUPTLY, which is divisible into +<ul> +<li>1st. He that is BRIBED, which is divisible into +<ul> +<li>1st. He that is bribed DIRECTLY, which is divisible into +<ul> +<li>1st. He that receiveth MONEY, which may be considered as +<ol> +<li>He that pretendeth the money is due to him.</li> +<li>He that pretendeth it is lent.</li> +<li>He who receiveth it as alms.</li> +<li>He who receiveth it as the price of a venerated tobacco-pipe, a +piece of Irish bacon, and the like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +<li>2nd. He that seeketh PLACE, which may be considered as +<ol> +<li>He who asketh for a high situation, as a judgeship in Botany +Bay, or a bishopric in Sierra Leone, and the like.</li> +<li>He who asketh for a low situation, as a ticket-porter, curate, +and the like.</li> +<li>He who asketh for any situation he can get, as Secretary to the +Admiralty, policeman, revising barrister, turnkey, chaplain, +mail-coach guard, and the like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +<li>3rd. He that taketh DRINK, which may be considered as +<ol> +<li>He that voteth for Walker’s Gooseberry, or +Elector’s Sparkling Champagne.</li> +<li>For sloe-juice, or Elector’s fine old crusted Port.</li> +<li>He who voteth for Brett’s British Brandy, or +Elector’s real French Cognac.</li> +<li>He who voteth for quassia, molasses, copperas, <em>coculus +Indicus</em>, Spanish juice, or Elector’s Extra Double +Stout.</li> +</ol> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>2nd. He that is bribed INDIRECTLY, as +<ol> +<li>He who is promised a government contract for wax, wafers, or +the like.</li> +<li>He who getteth a contract, for paupers’ clothing, +building unions, and the like.</li> +<li>He who furnisheth the barouches-and-four for the independent +40<em>s</em>. freeholders.</li> +<li>He who is presented with cigars, snuffs, meerschaum-pipes, +haunches of venison, Stilton-cheeses, fresh pork, pine-apples, +early peas, and the like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>2nd. He that is INTIMIDATED, as +<ol> +<li>By his landlord, who soliciteth back rent, or giveth him notice +to quit.</li> +<li>By his patron, who sayeth they of the opposite politics cannot +be trusted.</li> +<li>By his master, who sayeth he keepeth no viper of an opposite +opinion in his employ.</li> +<li>By his wife, who will have her own way in hysterics.</li> +<li>By his intended bride, who talketh of men of spirit and Gretna +Green.</li> +<li>By a rich customer, who sendeth back his goods, and biddeth him +be d—d.</li> +</ol> +</li> +<li>3rd. He that is VOLUNTARILY CORRUPT, which may be considered as +<ol> +<li>He who voteth from the hope that his party will provide him a +place.</li> +<li>He who voteth to please one who can leave him a legacy.</li> +<li>He who voteth to get into genteel society.</li> +<li>He who voteth according as he hath taken the odds.</li> +<li>He who, being a schoolmaster, voteth for the candidate with a +large family.</li> +<li>He who voteth in hopes posterity may think him a patriot.</li> +</ol> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>2nd. He that voteth CONSCIENTIOUSLY, which is divisible into +<ul> +<li>1st. He that voteth according to HUMBUG, which is divisible +into +<ul> +<li>1st. He that is POLITICALLY humbugged, which is divisible into +<ul> +<li>1st. He has SOME BRAINS, as +<ol> +<li>He who believeth taxes will be taken off.</li> +<li>He who believeth wages will be raised.</li> +<li>He who thinketh trade will be increased.</li> +<li>He who studieth political economy.</li> +<li>He who readeth newspapers, reviews, and magazines, and +listeneth to lectures, and the like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +<li>2nd. He that has NO BRAINS, as +<ol> +<li>He who voteth to support “the glorious +Constitution,” and maintain “the envy of surrounding +nations.”</li> +<li>He who believeth the less the taxation the greater the +revenue.</li> +<li>He who attendeth the Crown and Anchor meetings, and the +like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>2nd. He that is MORALLY humbugged, as +<ol> +<li>He who thinketh the Millennium and the Rads will come in +together.</li> +<li>He who thinketh that the Whigs are patriots.</li> +<li>That the Tories love the poor.</li> +<li>That the member troubleth himself solely for the good of his +country.</li> +<li>That the unions are popular with the paupers, and the +like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +<li>3rd. He that is DOMESTICALLY humbugged, as +<ol> +<li>He who voteth because the candidate’s ribbons suit his +wife’s complexion.</li> +<li>Because his wife was addressed as his daughter by the +canvasser.</li> +<li>Because his wife had the candidate’s carriage to make +calls in, and the like.</li> +<li>Because his daughter was presented with a set of the Prince +Albert Quadrilles.</li> +<li>Because the candidate promised to stand godfather to his last +infant, and the like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>2nd. He that voteth according to PRINCIPLE, which is divisible +into +<ul> +<li>1st. He whose principles are HEREDITARY, as +<ol> +<li>He who voteth on one side because his father always voted on +the same.</li> +<li>Because the “Wrong-heads” and the like had always +sat for the county.</li> +<li>Because he hath kindred with an ancient political hero, such as +Jack Cade, Hampden, the Pretender, &c., and so must maintain +his principle.</li> +<li>Because his mother quartereth the Arms of the candidate, and +the like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +<li>2nd. He whose principles are CONVENTIONAL, as +<ol> +<li>He who voteth because the candidate keepeth a pack of +hounds.</li> +<li>Because he was once insulted by a scoundrel of the same name as +the opposite candidate.</li> +<li>Because the candidate is of a noble family.</li> +<li>Because the candidate laid the first brick of Zion Chapel, and +the like.</li> +<li>Because he knoweth the candidate’s cousin.</li> +<li>Because the candidate directed to +him—“Esq.”</li> +</ol> +</li> +<li>3rd. He whose principles are PHILOSOPHICAL, which may be +considered as +<ul> +<li>1st. He that is IMPARTIAL, as +<ol> +<li>He that voteth on both sides.</li> +<li>Because he tossed up with himself.</li> +<li>He who loveth the majority and therefore voteth for him who +hath most votes.</li> +<li>Because he is asked to vote one way, and so voteth the other, +to show that he is not influenced.</li> +<li>Because he hateth the multitude, and so voteth against the +popular candidate.</li> +</ol> +</li> +<li>2nd. He that is INDEPENDENT, as +<ol> +<li>He who cannot be trusted.</li> +<li>He who taketh money from one side, and voteth on the +other.</li> +<li>He who is not worth bribing.</li> +<li>He who voteth against his own opinion, because his letter was +not answered.</li> +<li>He who, being promised a place last election, was deceived, and +the like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>2nd. He that voteth ACCIDENTALLY, which is divisible into +<ul> +<li>1st. He that voteth through the BLUNDERS OF HIMSELF, which may +be considered as +<ol> +<li>He who is drunk, and forgetteth who gave him the bribe.</li> +<li>He who goeth to the wrong agent, who leadeth him astray.</li> +<li>He who is confused and giveth the wrong name.</li> +<li>He who is bashful, and assenteth to any name suggested.</li> +<li>He who promiseth both parties, and voteth for all the +candidates, and the like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +<li>2nd. He that voteth through the BLUNDERS OF OTHERS, which may +be considered as +<ol> +<li>He who is mistaken for his servant when he is canvassed, and so +incensed into voting the opposite way.</li> +<li>He who is attempted to be bribed before many people, and so +outraged into honesty.</li> +<li>He who hath too much court paid by the canvasser to his wife, +and so, out of jealousy, voteth for the opposite candidate.</li> +<li>He who is called down from dinner to be canvassed, and being +enraged thereat, voteth against his conviction.</li> +<li>He who bringeth the fourth seat in a hackney-coach to him who +keepeth a carriage and the like.</li> +</ol> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +</ul> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page4" name="page4"></a>[pg 4]</span> +<h2>THE PROFESSIONAL SINGER</h2> +<p>Have any of PUNCH’S readers ever met one of the above +<em>genus</em>—or rather, have they not? They must; for the +race is imbued with the most persevering <em>hic et ubique</em> +powers. Like the old mole, these Truepennies “work i’ +th’ dark:” at the Theatres, the Opera, the Coal Hole, +the Cider Cellars, and the whole of the Grecian, Roman, British, +Cambrian, Eagle, Lion, Apollo, Domestic, Foreign, Zoological, and +Mythological Saloons, they “most do congregate.” Once +set your eyes upon them, once become acquainted with their habits +and manners, and then mistake them if you can. They are themselves, +alone: like the London dustmen, the Nemarket jockeys, the +peripatetic venders, or buyers of “old clo’,” or +the Albert continuations at <em>one pound one</em>, they appear to +be <em>made to measure for the same</em>. We must now describe them +(to speak theatrically) with decorations, scenes, and properties! +The entirely new dresses of a theatre are like the habiliments of +the professional singer, i.e. neither one nor the other ever +<em>were entirely new</em>, and never will be allowed to grow +entirely old. The double-milled Saxony of these worthies is +generally <em>very</em> blue or <em>very</em> brown; the cut +whereof sets a man of a contemplative turn of mind wondering at +what precise date those tails were worn, and vainly speculating on +the probabilities of their being fearfully indigestible, as that +alone could to long have kept them from Time’s remorseless +maw. The collars are always velvet, and always greasy. There is a +slight ostentation manifested in the seams, the stitches whereof +are so apparent as to induce the beholders to believe they must +have been the handiwork of some cherished friend, whose labours +ought not to be entombed beneath the superstructure. The +buttons!—oh, for a pen of steam to write upon those buttons! +They, indeed, are the aristocracy—the yellow turbans, the +sun, moon, and stars of the woollen system! They have nothing in +common with the coat—they are <em>on it</em>, and +that’s all—they have no further communion—they +decline the button-holes, and eschew all right to labour for their +living—they announce themselves as “the last new +fashion”—they sparkle for a week, retire to their +silver paper, make way for the new comers, and, years after, like +the Sleeping Beauty, rush to life in all their pristine splendour, +and find (save in the treble-gilt aodication and their own +accession) the coat, the immortal coat, unchanged! The waistcoat is +of a material known only to themselves—a sort of nightmare +illusion of velvet, covered with a slight tracery of refined +mortar, curiously picked out and guarded with a nondescript +collection of the very greenest green pellets of hyson-bloom +gunpowder tea. The buttons (things of use in this garment) describe +the figure and proportions of a large turbot. They consist of two +rows (leaving imagination to fill up a lapse of the absent), +commencing, to all appearance, at the <em>small of the back</em>, +and reaching down even to the hem of the garment, which is +invariably a double-breasted one, made upon the good old dining-out +principle of leaving plenty of room in the victualling department. +To complete the catalogue of raiment, the untalkaboutables have so +little right to the name of drab, that it would cause a controversy +on the point. Perhaps nothing in life can more exquisitely +illustrate the Desdemona feeling of divided duty, than the portion +of manufactured calf-skin appropriated to the peripatetic purposes +of these gentry; they are, in point of fact, invariably that +description of mud-markers known in the purlieus of +Liecester-square, and at all denominations of +“boots”—great, little, red, and yellow—as +eight-and-sixpenny Bluchers. But the afore-mentioned drabs are +strapped down with such pertinacity as to leave the observer in +extreme doubt whether the Prussian hero of that name is their +legitimate sponsor, or the glorious Wellington of our own sea-girt +isle. Indeed, it has been rumoured that (as there never was a +<em>pair</em> of either of the illustrious heroes) these gentlemen, +for the sake of consistency, invariably perambulate in <em>one of +each</em>. We scarcely know whether it be so or not—we merely +relate what we have heard; but we incline to the <em>two +Bluchers</em>, <em>because</em> of the <em>eight-and-six</em>. The +only additional expense likely to add any emolument to the +<em>tanner’s</em> interest (we mean no pun) is the immense +extent of sixpenny straps generally worn. These are described by a +friend of ours as belonging to the great class of <em>coaxers</em>; +and their exertions in bringing (as a nautical man would say) the +trowsers <em>to bear</em> at all, is worthy of notice. There is a +legend extant (a veritable legend, which emanated from one of the +fraternity who had been engaged three weeks at her Majesty’s +theatre, as one of twenty in an unknown chorus, the chief +peculiarity of the affair being the close approximation of some of +his principal foreign words to “Tol de rol,” and +“Fal the ral ra”), in which it was asserted, that from +a violent quarrel with a person in the grass-bleached line, the +body corporate determined to avoid any unnecessary use of that +commodity. In the way of wristbands, the malice of the above void +is beautifully nullified, inasmuch as the most prosperous +linen-draper could never wish to have less linen on hand. As we are +describing the <em>genus</em> in <em>black</em> and <em>white</em>, +we may as well state at once, <em>those</em> are the colours +generally casing the throats from whence their sweet sounds issue; +these <em>ties</em> are garnished with union pins, whose strong +<em>mosaic tendency</em> would, in the Catholic days of Spain (had +they been residents), have consigned them to the lowest dungeons of +the Inquisition, and favoured them with an exit from this breathing +world, amid all the uncomfortable pomp of an +<em>auto-da-fe</em>.</p> +<p>It is a fact on record, that no one of the body ever had a cold +in his head; and this peculiarity, we presume, exempts them from +carrying pocket-handkerchiefs, a superfluity we never witnessed in +their hands, though they indulge in snuff-boxes which assume the +miniture form of French plum-cases, richly embossed, with something +round the edges about as much in proportion to <em>the box</em> as +<em>eighteen insides</em> are to a small tax-cart. This testimonial +is generally (as the engraved inscription purports) given by +“several gentlemen” (who are, unfortunately, in these +instances, always anonymous—which circumstance, as they are +invariably described as “admirers of talent,” is much +to be regretted, and, we trust, will soon be rectified). We +believe, like the immortal Jack Falstaff, they were each born at +four o’clock of the morning, with a bald head, and something +of a round belly; certain it is, they are universally thin in the +hair, and exhibit strong manifestation of obesity.</p> +<p>The further marks of identity consist in a ring very variously +chased, and the infallible insignia of a tuning-fork: without this +no professional singer does or can exist. The thing has been tried, +and found a failure. Its uses are remarkable and various: like the +“death’s-head and cross-bones” of the pirates, or +the wand, globe, and beard of the conjuror, it is their sure and +unvarying sign. We have in our mind’s eye one of the species +even now—we see him coquetting with the fork, compressing it +with gentle fondness, and then (that all senses may be called into +requisition) resting it against his eye-tooth to catch the proper +tone. Should this be the prelude to his own professional +performance, we see it returned, with a look of profound wisdom, to +the right-hand depository of the nondescript and imaginary velvet +double-breaster—we follow his eyes, till, with peculiar +fascination, they fix upon the far-off cornice of the most distant +corner of the smoke-embued apartment—we perceive the +extension of the dexter hand employed in innocent dalliance with +the well-sucked peel of a quarter of an orange, whilst the left is +employed with the links of what would be a watch-guard, <em>if</em> +the professional singer <em>had a watch</em>. We hear the three +distinct hems—oblivion for a moment seizes us—the +glasses jingle—two auctioneers’ hammers astonish the +mahogany—several dirty hands are brought in violent and noisy +contact—we are near a friend of the vocalist—our glass +of gin-and-water (literally warm without) empties itself over our +lower extremities, instigated thereto by the gymnastic performances +of the said zealous friend—and with an exclamation that, were +Mawworn present, would cost us a shilling, we find the professional +singer has concluded, and is half stooping to the applause, and +half lifting his diligently-stirred grog, gulping down the +“creature comfort” with infinite satisfaction.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>—There goes the hammer again! (Rubins has a sinecure +compared to that fat man). “A glee, gents!—a +glee!”—Ah! there they are—three coats—three +collars—Heaven knows how many buttons!—three bald +heads, three stout stomachs, three mouths, stuffed with three +tuning-forks, nodding and conferring with a degree of mystery +worthy of three Guy Faux.”—What is the subject?</p> +<p style="text-align:center;">“<em>Hail</em> smi<em>lig</em> +<em>b</em>orn.”</p> +<p>That’s a good guess! By the way, the vulgar notion of +singing <em>ensemble</em> is totally exploded by these +gentry—each professional singer, as a professional singer, +sings his very loudest, in <em>justice to himself</em>; if his +brethren want physical power, that’s no fault of +<em>his</em>, <em>he don’t</em>. Professional singers indulge +in small portions of classic lore: among the necessary acquirements +is, “Non nobis,” &c. &c.; that is, they +consider they ought to know the airs. The words are generally +delivered as +follows:—<em>Don—dobis—do—by—de</em>. +A clear enunciation is not much cultivated among the clever in this +line.</p> +<p>In addition to the few particulars above, it may be as well to +mention, they treat all tavern-waiters with great respect, which is +more Christian-like, as the said waiters never return the +same—sit anywhere, just to accommodate—eat everything, +to prove they have no squeamish partialities—know to a +toothful what a bottom of brandy <em>should be</em>—the exact +quantity they may drink, free gratis, and the most likely victim to +<em>drop upon</em> for any further nourishment they may require. +Their acquirements in the musical world are rendered clear, by the +important information that “Harry Phillips knows what +he’s about”—“Weber was up to a thing or +two.” A <em>baritone</em> ain’t the sort of thing for +tenor music: and when <em>they</em> sung with some man (nobody ever +heard of), they showed him the difference, and wouldn’t +mind—“A cigar?” “Thank you, +sir!—seldom smoke—put it in my +pocket—(<em>aside</em>) that makes a dozen! Your good health, +sir!—don’t dislike cold, though I generally take it +warm—didn’t mean that as a hint, but, since you +<em>have ordered it</em>, I’ll give you a +toast—Here’s—THE PROFESSIONAL SINGER!”</p> +<p>FUSBOS.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>AN AN-TEA ANACREONTIC.</h3> +<h4>ΕΙΣ ΤΟ +ΛΕΙΝ ΠΙΝΕΝ.</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Bards of old have sung the vine</p> +<p>Such a theme shall ne’er be mine;</p> +<p>Weaker strains to me belong,</p> +<p>Pæans sung to thee, Souchong!</p> +<p>What though I may never sip</p> +<p>Rubies from my tea-cup’s lip;</p> +<p>Do not milky pearls combine</p> +<p>In this steaming cup of mine?</p> +<p>What though round my youthful brow</p> +<p>I ne’er twine the myrtle’s bough?</p> +<p>For such wreaths my soul ne’er grieves.</p> +<p>Whilst I own my Twankay’s leaves.</p> +<p>Though for me no altar burns,</p> +<p>Kettles boil and bubble—urns</p> +<p>In each fane, where I adore—</p> +<p>What should mortal ask for more!</p> +<p>I for Pidding, Bacchus fly,</p> +<p>Howqua shall my cup supply;</p> +<p>I’ll ne’er ask for amphoræ,</p> +<p>Whilst my tea-pot yields me tea.</p> +<p>Then, perchance, above my grave,</p> +<p>Blooming Hyson sprigs may wave;</p> +<p>And some stately sugar-cane,</p> +<p>There may spring to life again:</p> +<p>Bright-eyed maidens then may meet,</p> +<p>To quaff the herb and suck the sweet.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page5" name="page5"></a>[pg 5]</span> +<h2>A CONVERSATION BETWEEN TWO HACKNEY-COACH HORSES.</h2> +<h3>KINDLY COMMUNICATED BY OUR DOG “TOBY.”</h3> +<p>DEAR SIR,—I was a-sitting the other evening at the door of +my kennel, thinking of the dog-days and smoking my pipe (blessings +on you, master, for teaching me that art!), when one of your +prospectuses was put into my paw by a spaniel that lives as pet-dog +in a nobleman’s family. Lawk, sir! what misfortunes can have +befallen you, that you are obleeged to turn author?</p> +<p>I remember the poor devil as used to supply us with +<em>dialect</em>—what a face he had! It was like a +mouth-organ turned edgeways; and he looked as hollow as the big +drum, but warn’t half so round and noisy. You can’t +have dwindled down to that, sure<em>ly</em>! I couldn’t bear +to see your hump and <em>pars pendula</em> (that’s dog Latin) +shrunk up like dried almonds, and titivated out in msty-fusty +toggery—I’m sure I couldn’t! The very thought of +it is like a pound weight at the end of my tail.</p> +<p>I whined like any thing, calling to my missus—for you must +know that I’ve married as handsome a Scotch terrier as you +ever see. “Vixen,” says I, “here’s the poor +old governor up at last—I knew that Police Act would drive +him to something desperate.”</p> +<p>“Why he hasn’t hung himself in earnest, and summoned +you on his inquest!” exclaimed Mrs. T.</p> +<p>“Worse nor that,” says I; “he’s turned +author, and in course is stewed up in some wery elevated apartment +during this blessed season of the year, when all nature is wagging +with delight, and the fairs is on, and the police don’t want +nothing to do to warm ‘em, and consequentially sees no harm +in a muster of infantry in bye-streets. It’s very +hawful.”</p> +<p>Vixen sighed and scratched her ear with her right leg, so I +know’d she’d something in her head, for she always does +that when anything tickles her. “Toby,” says she, +“go and see the old gentleman; perhaps it might comfort him +to larrup you a little.”</p> +<p>“Very well,” says I, “I’ll be off at +once; so put me by a bone or two for supper, should any come out +while I’m gone; and if you can get the puppies to sleep +before I return, I shall be so much obleeged to you.” Saying +which, I toddled off for Wellington-street. I had just got to the +coach-stand at Hyde Park Corner, when who should I see labelled as +a waterman but the one-eyed chap we once had as a +orchestra—he as could only play “Jim Crow” and +the “Soldier Tired.” Thinks I, I may as well pass the +compliment of the day with him; so I creeps under the hackney-coach +he was standing alongside on, intending to surprise him; but just +as I was about to pop out he ran off the stand to un-nosebag a +cab-horse. Whilst I was waiting for him to come back, I hears the +off-side horse in the wehicle make the following remark:—</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE—(<em>twisting his tail about like +anything</em>)—Curse the flies!</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—You may say that. I’ve had one +fellow tickling me this half-hour.</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—Ours is a horrid profession! Phew! the sun +actually penetrates my vertebra.</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—Werterbee! What’s that?</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE—(<em>impatiently</em>).—The spine, my +friend (<em>whish! whish!</em>)</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—Ah! it is a shameful thing to +<em>dock</em> us as they does. If the marrow in one’s +backbone should melt, it would be sartin to run out at the tip of +one’s tail. I say, how’s your <em>feed?</em></p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—Very indifferent—the chaff +predominates—(<em>munch</em>) not <em>bene</em> by any +means.</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—Beany! Lord bless your ignorance! I +should be satisfied if they’d only make it <em>oaty</em> now +and then. How long have you been in the hackney line?</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—I have occupied my present degraded +position about two years. Little thought my poor mama, when I was +foaled, that I should ever come to this.</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—Ah! it ain’t very respectable, is +it?—especially since the cabs and busses have druv over our +heads. What was you put to?—you look as if you had been well +brought up.</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—My mama was own sister to +<em>Lottery</em>, but unfortunately married a horse much below her +in pedigree. I was the produce of that union. At five years old I +entered the army under Ensign Dashard.</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE—Bless me, how odd! I was bought at +Horncastle, to serve in the dragoons; but the wetternary man found +out I’d a splint, and wouldn’t have me! I say, +ain’t that stout woman with a fat family looking at us?</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—I’m afraid she is. People of her +grade in society are always partial to a dilatory +shillingworth.</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE—Ay, and always lives up Snow-hill, or +Ludgate-hill, or Mutton-hill, or a <em>hill</em> somewhere.</p> +<p>WOMAN.—Coach!</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—She’s ahailing us! I wonder whether +she’s narvous? I’ll let out with my hind leg a +bit—(<em>kick</em>)—O Lord! the rheumatiz!</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—Pray don’t. I abjure subterfuges; +they are unworthy of a thoroughbred.</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—Thoroughbred? I like that! Haven’t +you just acknowledged that you were a cocktail? Thank God! +she’s moving on. Hallo! there’s old Readypenny!—a +willanous Tory.</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—I beg to remark that my principles are +Conservative.</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—And I beg to remark that mine +isn’t. I sarved Readypenny out at Westminster ‘lection +the other day. He got into our coach to go to the poll, and I +wouldn’t draw an inch. I warn’t agoing to take up a +plumper for Rous.</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—I declare the obese female returns.</p> +<p>WOMAN.—Coach! Hallo! Coach!</p> +<p>WATERMAN.—Here you is, ma’am. Kuck! kuck! +kuck!—Come along!—(<em>Pulling the coach and +horses</em>).</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—O heavens! I am too stiff to move, and +this brute will pull my head off.</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—Keep it on one side, and you spiles his +purchase.</p> +<p>WATERMAN—Come up, you old brute!</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—Old brute! What evidence of a low +mind!—[<em>The stout woman and fat family ascend the steps of +the coach</em>].</p> +<p>COACH.—O law! oh, law! Week! week! O law!—O law! +Week! week!</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE—Do you hear how the poor old thing’s +a sufferin’?—She must feel it a good deal to have her +squabs sat on by everybody as can pay for her. She was built by +Pearce, of Long-acre, for the Duchess of Dorsetshire. I wonder her +perch don’t break—she has been crazy a long time.</p> +<p>WATERMAN.—Snow-hill—opposite the Saracen’s +Head.</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—I know’d it!</p> +<p>COACHMAN.—Kuck! kuck!</p> +<p>WHIP.—Whack! whack!</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—Pull away, my dear fellow; a little extra +exertion may save us from flagellation.</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—Well, I’m pulling, ain’t +I?</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—I don’t like to dispute your word; +but—(<em>whack</em>)—Oh! that was an abrasion on my +shoulder.</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—A <em>raw</em> you mean. Who’s not +pulling now, I should like to know!</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—I couldn’t help hopping then; you +know what a <em>grease</em> I have in my hind leg.</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—Well, haven’t I a splint and a +corn, and ain’t one of my fore fetlocks got a formoses, and +my hind legs the stringhalt?</p> +<p>WOMAN.—Stop! stop!</p> +<p>COACHMAN.—Whoo up!—d—n you!</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE.—There goes my last masticator!</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—And I’m blow’d if he +hasn’t jerked my head so that he’s given me a crick in +the neck; but never mind; if she does get out here, we shall save +the hill.</p> +<p>WOMAN.—Three doors higher up.</p> +<p>COACHMAN.—Chuck! chuck!</p> +<p>WHIP.—Whack! whack!</p> +<p>COACHMAN.—Come up, you varmint!</p> +<p>OFF-SIDE HORSE—Varmint! and to me! the nephew of the great +Lottery! O Pegasus! what shall I come to next!</p> +<p>NEAR-SIDE HORSE.—Alamode beef, may be, or perhaps pork +sassages!</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The old woman was so long in that house where she stopped, that +I was obleeged to toddle home, for my wife has a rather unpleasant +way of taking me by the scruff of my neck if I ain’t pretty +regular in my hours.</p> +<p>Yours, werry obediently, TOBY.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>COURT CIRCULAR.</h3> +<p>Communicated exclusively to this Journal by MASTER JONES, whose +services we have succeeded in retaining, though opposed by the +enlightened manager of a metropolitan theatre, whose anxiety to +advance the interest of the drama is only equalled by his ignorance +of the means.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Since the dissolution of Parliament, Lord Melbourne has confined +himself entirely to <em>stews</em>.</p> +<p>Stalls have been fitted up in the Royal nursery for the +reception of two Alderney cows, preparatory to the weaning of the +infant Princess; which delicate duty Mrs. Lilly commences on Monday +next.</p> +<p>Sir Robert Peel has been seen several times this week in close +consultation with the chief cook. Has he been offered the +<em>premiership</em>?</p> +<p>Mr. Moreton Dyer, “<em>the amateur turner</em>,” has +been a frequent visitor at the palace of late. Palmerston, it is +whispered, has been receiving lessons in the art. We are surprised +to hear this, for we always considered his lordship a Talleyrand in +<em>turning</em>.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>A QUARTER-DAY COGITATION.</h3> +<h4>(WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF A “NOTED” TAILOR’S +BILL.)</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>By winter’s chill the fragrant flower is nipp’d,</p> +<p class="i2">To be new-clothed with brighter tints in spring;</p> +<p>The blasted tree of verdant leaves is stripp’d,</p> +<p class="i2">A fresher foliage on each branch to bring;</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The aërial songster moults his plumerie,</p> +<p class="i2">To vie in sleekness with each feather’d +brother:</p> +<p>A twelvemonth’s wear hath ta’en thy nap from +thee,</p> +<p class="i2">My seedy coat!—When shall I get another?</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>NOTE.—Confiding tailors are entreated to send their +addresses, pre-paid, to PUNCH’S office.</p> +<p>P.S.—None need apply who <em>refuse</em> three +years’ acceptances. If the bills be made <em>renewable</em>, +by agreement, “continuations” will be taken in any +quantity.—FITZROY FIPS.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page6" name="page6"></a>[pg 6]</span> +<h2>STREET POLITICS.</h2> +<h3>A DRAMATIC DIALOGUE BETWEEN PUNCH AND HIS STAGE MANAGER.</h3> +<p>(<em>Enter</em> PUNCH.)</p> +<p>PUNCH.—R-r-r-roo-to-tooit-tooit?</p> +<p>(<em>Sings.</em>)</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>“Wheel about and turn about,</p> +<p class="i2">And do jes so;</p> +<p>Ebery time I turn about,</p> +<p class="i2">I jump Jim Crow.”</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>MANAGER.—Hollo, Mr. Punch! your voice is rather husky +to-day.</p> +<p>PUNCH.—Yes, yes; I’ve been making myself as hoarse +as a hog, bawling to the free and independent electors of Grogswill +all the morning. They have done me the honour to elect me as their +representative in Parliament. I’m an M.P. now.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—An M.P.! Gammon, Mr. Punch.</p> +<p>THE DOG TOBY.—Bow, wow, wow, wough, wough!</p> +<p>PUNCH.—Fact, upon my honour. I’m at this moment an +unit in the collective stupidity of the nation.</p> +<p>DOG TOBY.—R-r-r-r-r-r—wough—wough!</p> +<p>PUNCH.—Kick that dog, somebody. Hang the cur, did he never +see a legislator before, that he barks at me so?</p> +<p>MANAGER.—A legislator, Mr. Punch? with that wooden head of +yours! Ho! ho! ho! ho!</p> +<p>PUNCH.—My dear sir, I can assure you that wood is the +material generally used in the manufacture of political puppets. +There will be more blockheads than mine in St. Stephen’s, I +can tell you. And as for oratory, why I flatter my whiskers +I’ll astonish them in that line.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—But on what principles did you get into +Parliament, Mr. Punch?</p> +<p>PUNCH.—I’d have you know, sir, I’m above +having any principles but those that put money in my pocket.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—I mean on what interest did you start?</p> +<p>PUNCH.—On self-interest, sir. The only great, patriotic, +and noble feeling that a public man can entertain.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—Pardon me, Mr. Punch; I wish to know whether you +have come in as a Whig or a Tory?</p> +<p>PUNCH.—As a Tory, decidedly, sir. I despise the base, +rascally, paltry, beggarly, contemptible Whigs. I detest their +policy, and—</p> +<p>THE DOG TOBY.—Bow, wow, wough, wough!</p> +<p>MANAGER.—Hollo! Mr. Punch, what are you saying? I +understood you were always a staunch Whig, and a supporter of the +present Government.</p> +<p>PUNCH.—So I was, sir. I supported the Whigs as long as +they supported themselves; but now that the old house is coming +down about their ears, I turn my back on them in virtuous +indignation, and take my seat in the opposition ‘bus.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—-But where is your patriotism, Mr. Punch?</p> +<p>PUNCH.—Where every politician’s is, sir—in my +breeches’ pocket.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—And your consistency, Mr. Punch?</p> +<p>PUNCH.—What a green chap you are, after all. A public +man’s consistency! It’s only a popular delusion, sir. +I’ll tell you what’s consistency, sir. When one +gentleman’s <em>in</em> and won’t come <em>out</em>, +and when another gentleman’s <em>out</em> and can’t get +<em>in</em>, and when both gentlemen persevere in their +determination—that’s consistency.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—I understand; but still I think it is the duty of +every public man to——</p> +<p>PUNCH.—(<em>sings</em>)—</p> +<p>“Wheel about and turn about, And do jes so; Ebery time he +turn about, He jumps Jim Crow.”</p> +<p>MANAGER.—Then it is your opinion that the prospects of the +Whigs are not very flattering?</p> +<p>PUNCH.—’Tis all up with them, as the young lady +remarked when Mr. Green and his friends left Wauxhall in the +balloon; they haven’t a chance. The election returns are +against them everywhere. England deserts them—Ireland fails +them—Scotland alone sticks with national attachment to their +backs, like a—</p> +<p>THE DOG TOBY.—Bow, wow, wow, wough!</p> +<p>MANAGER.—Of course, then, the Tories will take +office—?</p> +<p>PUNCH.—I rayther suspect they will. Have they not been +licking their chops for ten years outside the Treasury door, while +the sneaking Whigs were helping themselves to all the fat tit-bits +within? Have they not growled and snarled all the while, and proved +by their barking that they were the fittest guardians of the +country? Have they not wept over the decay of our ancient and +venerable constitution—? And have they not promised and +vowed, the moment they got into office, that they would—Send +round the hat.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—Very good, Mr. Punch; but I should like to know +what the Tories mean to do about the corn-laws? Will they give the +people cheap food?</p> +<p>PUNCH.—No, but they’ll give them cheap drink. +They’ll throw open the Thames for the use of the temperance +societies.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—But if we don’t have cheap corn, our trade +must be destroyed, our factories will be closed, and our mills left +idle.</p> +<p>PUNCH.—There you’re wrong. Our tread-mills will be +in constant work; and, though our factories should be empty, our +prisons will be quite full.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—That’s all very well, Mr. Punch; but the +people will grumble a <em>leetle</em> if you starve them.</p> +<p>PUNCH.—Ay, hang them, so they will; the populace have no +idea of being grateful for benefits. Talk of starvation! +Pooh!—I’ve studied political economy in a workhouse, +and I know what it means. They’ve got a fine plan in those +workhouses for feeding the poor devils. They do it on the +homoeopathic system, by administering to them oatmeal porridge in +infinitessimal doses; but some of the paupers have such proud +stomachs that they object to the diet, and actually die through +spite and villany. Oh! ’tis a dreadful world for ingratitude! +But never mind—Send round the hat.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—What is the meaning of the sliding scale, Mr. +Punch?</p> +<p>PUNCH.—It means—when a man has got nothing for +breakfast, he may slide his breakfast into his lunch; then, if he +has got nothing for lunch, he may slide that into his dinner; and +if he labours under the same difficulties with respect to the +dinner, he may slide all three meals into his supper.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—But if the man has got no supper?</p> +<p>PUNCH.—Then let him wish he may get it.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—Oh! that’s your sliding scale?</p> +<p>PUNCH.—Yes; and a very ingenious invention it is for the +suppression of victuals. R-r-r-roo-to-tooit-tooit! Send round the +hat.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—At this rate, Mr. Punch, I suppose you would not +be favourable to free trade?</p> +<p>PUNCH.—Certainly not, sir. Free trade is one of your +new-fangled notions that mean nothing but free plunder. I’ll +illustrate my position. I’m a boy in a school, with a bag of +apples, which, being the only apples on my form, I naturally sell +at a penny a-piece, and so look forward to pulling in a +considerable quantity of browns, when a boy from another form, with +a bigger bag of apples, comes and sells his at three for a penny, +which, of course, knocks up my trade.</p> +<p>MANAGER.—But it benefits the community, Mr. Punch.</p> +<p>PUNCH.—D—n the community! I know of no community but +PUNCH and Co. I’m for centralization—and +individualization—every man for himself, and PUNCH for us +all! Only let me catch any rascal bringing his apples to my form, +and see how I’ll cobb him. So now—send round the +hat—and three cheers for</p> +<h4>PUNCH’S POLITICS.</h4> +<hr /> +<h3>SONGS FOR THE SENTIMENTAL.</h3> +<h4>No. 1.</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>O Reveal, thou fay-like stranger,</p> +<p class="i2">Why this lonely path you seek;</p> +<p>Every step is fraught with danger</p> +<p class="i2">Unto one so fair and meek.</p> +<p>Where are they that <em>should</em> protect thee</p> +<p class="i2">In this darkling hour of doubt?</p> +<p>Love <em>could</em> never thus neglect thee!—</p> +<p class="i2"><em>Does your mother know you’re out?</em></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Why so pensive, Peri-maiden?</p> +<p class="i2">Pearly tears bedim thine eyes!</p> +<p>Sure thine heart is overladen,</p> +<p class="i2">When each breath is fraught with sighs.</p> +<p>Say, hath care life’s heaven clouded,</p> +<p class="i2">Which hope’s stars were wont to spangle?</p> +<p>What hath all thy gladness shrouded?—</p> +<p class="i2"><em>Has your mother sold her mangle?</em></p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>A PUBLIC CONVENIENCE.</h3> +<p>We are requested to state, by the Marquis of W——, +that, for the convenience of the public, he has put down one of his +carriages, and given orders to Pearce, of Long-acre, for the +construction of an easy and elegant <em>stretcher.</em></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page7" name="page7"></a>[pg 7]</span> +<h2>CANDIDATES UNDER DIFFERENT PHASES</h2> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/001-04.png"><img src= +"images/001-04.png" alt= +"A series of vignettes with candidates: CANVASSING. What a love of a child THE DEPUTATION. If you think me worthy THE SUCCESSFUL CANDIDATE. Constituents--rascals THE HUSTINGS. Don't mention it I beg THE PUBLIC DINNER. The proudest moment of my life" +id="img001-04" name="img001-04" width="100%" /></a> +<p>CANVASSING. What a love of a child<br /> +THE DEPUTATION. If you think me worthy<br /> +THE SUCCESSFUL CANDIDATE. Constituents--rascals<br /> +THE HUSTINGS. Don't mention it I beg<br /> +THE PUBLIC DINNER. The proudest moment of my life</p> +</div> +<!-- blank page [pg 8] --> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page9" name="page9"></a>[pg 9]</span> +<h2>FINE ARTS.</h2> +<p>PUNCH begs most solemnly to assure his friends and the artists +in general, that should the violent cold with which he has been +from time immemorial afflicted, and which, although it has caused +his voice to appear like an infant Lablache screaming through +horse-hair and thistles, yet has not very materially affected him +otherwise—should it not deprive him of existence—please +Gog and Magog, he will, next season, visit every exhibition of +modern art as soon as the pictures are hung; and further, that he +will most unequivocally be down with his <em>coup de baton</em> +upon every unfortunate nob requiring his peculiar attention.</p> +<p>That he independently rejects the principles upon which these +matters are generally conducted, he trusts this will be taken as an +assurance: should the handsomest likeness-taker gratuitously offer +to paint PUNCH’S portrait in any of the most favourite and +fashionable styles, from the purest production of the general +mourning school—and all performed by scissars—to the +exquisitely gay works of the President of the Royal Academy, even +though his Presidentship offer to do the nose with real carmine, +and throw Judy and the little one into the back-ground, PUNCH would +not give him a single eulogistic syllable unmerited. A word to the +landscape and other perpetrators: none of your little bits for +PUNCH—none of your insinuating cabinet gems—no +Art-<em>ful</em> Union system of doing things—Hopkins to +praise for one reason, Popkins to censure for another—and as +PUNCH has been poking his nose into numberless unseen corners, and, +notwithstanding its indisputable dimensions, has managed to screen +it from observation, he has thereby smelt out several pretty little +affairs, which shall in due time be exhibited and explained in +front of his proscenium, for special amusement. In the mean time, +to prove that PUNCH is tolerably well up in this line of +pseudo-criticism, he has prepared the following description of the +private view of either the Royal Academy or the Suffolk-street +Gallery, or the British Institution, for 1842, for the lovers of +this very light style of reading; and to make it as truly +applicable to the various specimens of art forming the collection +or collections alluded to, he has done it after the peculiar manner +practised by the talented conductor of a journal purporting to be +exclusively set apart to that effort. To illustrate with what +strict attention to the nature of the subject chosen, and what an +intimate knowledge of technicalities the writer above alluded to +displays, and with what consummate skill he blends those +peculiarities, the reader will have the kindness to attach the +criticism to either of the works (hereunder catalogued) most +agreeably to his fancy. It will be, moreover, shown that this is a +thoroughly impartial way of performing the operation of soft +anointment.</p> +<table summary="Unerring Comments For Paintings" style= +"width: 75%; margin: 0 0 0 10%;"> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"> +<h3>THE UNERRING FOR PORTRAITS ONLY:</h3> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Portrait of the miscreant who +attempted to assassinate Mr. Macreath.</td> +<td rowspan="5" style= +"width:50%;padding-left:1em; border-style:dashed;border-width: 0 0 0 1pt;"> +The head is extremely well painted, and the light and shade +distributed with the artist's usual judgement.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">VALENTINE VERMILION.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Portrait of His Majesty the King +of Hanover.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">BY THE SAME.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Portrait of the boy who got into +Buckingham Palace.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">GEOFFERY GLAZEM.</td> +<td style= +"text-align:center;border-style:dashed;border-width: 0 0 0 1pt;">OR +THUS:</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Portrait of Lord John +Russell.</td> +<td rowspan="5" style= +"padding-left:1em;border-style:dashed;border-width: 0 0 0 1pt;">An +admirable likeness of the original, and executed with that breadth +and clearness so apparent in this clever painter's works.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">BY THE SAME.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Portrait of W. Grumbletone, +Esq., in the character of Joseph Surface.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">PETER PALETTE.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Portrait of Sir Robert Peel</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">BY THE SAME.</td> +<td style= +"text-align:center;border-style:dashed;border-width: 0 0 0 1pt;">OR +THUS:</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Portrait of the Empress of +Russia.</td> +<td rowspan="6" style= +"padding-left:1em;border-style:dashed;border-width: 0 0 0 1pt;">A +well-drawn and brilliantly painted portrait, calculated to sustain +the fame already gained by this our favourite painter.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">VANDYKE BROWN.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Portrait of the infant +Princess.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">BY THE SAME.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Portrait of Mary Mumblegums, +aged 170 years.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">BY THE SAME.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2" style="padding-top:2em;"> +<h3>THE UNERRING FOR EVERY SUBJECT:</h3> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">The Death of Abel.</td> +<td rowspan="9" style= +"width:50%;padding-left:1em; border-style:dashed;border-width: 0 0 0 1pt;"> +This picture is well arranged and coloured with much truth to +nature; the chiaro-scuro is admirably managed.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">MICHAEL McGUELP.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Dead Game.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">THOMAS TICKLEPENCIL.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Vesuvius in Eruption.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">CHARLES CARMINE, R.A.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Portraits of Mrs. Punch and +Child.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">R.W. BUSS.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Cattle returning from the +Watering Place.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">R. BOLLOCK.</td> +<td rowspan="2" style= +"text-align:center;border-style:dashed;border-width: 0 0 0 1pt;">OR +THUS:</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">"We won't go home till +Morning."</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">M. WATERFORD, R.H.S.</td> +<td rowspan="9" style= +"width:50%;padding-left:1em; border-style:dashed;border-width: 0 0 0 1pt;"> +This is one of the cleverest productions in the Exhibition; there +is a transparency in the shadows equal to Rembrandt.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">The infant Cupid sleeping.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">R. DADD.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Portrait of Lord +Palmerston.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">A.L.L. UPTON.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Coast Scene: Smugglers on the +look out.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">H. PARKER.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding:1em 1em 0 0em;">Portrait of Captain Rous, +M.P.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="text-align:right;">J. WOOD.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>Should the friends of any of the artists deem the praise a +little too oily, they can easily add such a tag as the +following:—“In our humble judgment, a little more +delicacy of handling would not be altogether out of place;” +or, “Beautiful as the work under notice decidedly is, we +recollect to have received perhaps as much gratification in viewing +previous productions by the same.”</p> +<h3>FOR THE HALF CONDEMNED:</h3> +<p>This artist is, we much fear, on the decline; we no longer see +the vigour of handling and smartness of conception formerly +apparent in his works: or, “A little stricter attention to +drawing, as well as composition, would render this artist’s +works more recommendatory.”</p> +<h3>THE TOTALLY CONDEMNED:</h3> +<p>Either of the following, taken conjointly or separately: +“A perfect daub, possessing not one single quality necessary +to create even the slightest interest—a disgrace to the +Exhibition—who allowed such a wretched production to disgrace +these walls?—woefully out of drawing, and as badly +coloured,” and such like.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>A COMMENTARY ON THE ELECTIONS.</h2> +<h3>BY THE BEADLE OF SOMERSET HOUSE.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Well, lawks-a-day! things seem going on uncommon queer,</p> +<p>For they say that the Tories are bowling out the Whigs almost +everywhere;</p> +<p>And the blazing red of my beadle’s coat is turning to pink +through fear,</p> +<p>Lest I should find myself and staff out of Office some time +about the end of the year.</p> +<p>I’ve done nothing so long but stand under the magnificent +portico</p> +<p>Of Somerset House, that I don’t know what I should do if I +was for to go!</p> +<p>What the electors are at, I can’t make out, upon my +soul,</p> +<p>For it’s a law of natur’ that the <em>whig</em> +should be atop of the <em>poll</em>.</p> +<p>I’ve had a snug berth of it here for some time, and +don’t want to cut the connexion;</p> +<p>But they <em>do</em> say the Whigs must go out, because +they’ve NO OTHER ELECTION;</p> +<p>What they mean by that, I <em>don’t</em> know, for +ain’t they been electioneering—</p> +<p>That is, they’ve been canvassing, and spouting, and +pledging, and ginning, and beering.</p> +<p>Hasn’t Crawford and Pattison, Lyall, Masterman, Wood, and +Lord John Russell,</p> +<p>For ever so long been keeping the Great Metropolis in one +alarming <em>bussel</em>?</p> +<p>Ain’t the two <em>first</em> retired into private +life—(that’s the genteel for being rejected)?</p> +<p>And what’s more, the <em>last</em> four, strange to say, +have all been elected.</p> +<p>Then Finsbury Tom and Mr. Wakley, as wears his hair all over his +coat collar,</p> +<p>Hav’n’t they frightened Mr. Tooke, who once said he +could beat them <em>Hollar</em>?</p> +<p>Then at Lambeth, ain’t Mr. Baldwin and Mr. Cabbell been +both on ‘em bottled</p> +<p>By Mr. D’Eyncourt and Mr. Hawes, who makes soap yellow and +mottled!</p> +<p>And hasn’t Sir Benjamin Hall, and the gallant Commodore +Napier,</p> +<p>Made such a cabal with Cabbell and Hamilton as would make any +chap queer?</p> +<p>Whilst Sankey, who was backed by a <em>Cleave</em>-r for +Marrowbone looks cranky,</p> +<p>Acos the electors, like lisping babbies, cried out “<em>No +Sankee?</em>”</p> +<p>Then South’ark has sent Alderman Humphrey and Mr. B. +Wood,</p> +<p>Who has promised, that if ever a member of parliament did his +duty—he would!</p> +<p>Then for the Tower Hamlets, Robinson, Hutchinson, and Thompson, +find that they’re in the wrong box,</p> +<p>For the electors, though turned to Clay, still gallantly +followed the Fox;</p> +<p>Whilst Westminster’s chosen Rous—not Rouse of the +Eagle—tho’ I once seed a</p> +<p>Picture where there was a great big bird, very like a +<em>goose</em>, along with a Leda.</p> +<p>And hasn’t Sir Robert Peel and Mr. A’Court been down +to Tamworth to be reseated?</p> +<p>They ought to get an act of parliament to save them such +fatigue, for its always—ditto repeated.</p> +<p>Whilst at Leeds, Beckett and Aldam have put Lord Jocelyn into a +considerable fume,</p> +<p>Who finds it no go, though he’s added up the poll-books +several times with the calculating boy, Joe Hume.</p> +<p>So if there’s been <em>no other election</em>, I should +like to find out</p> +<p>What all the late squibbing and fibbing, placarding, and +blackguarding, losing and winning, beering and ginning, and every +other <em>et cetera</em>, has been about!</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>TO THE BLACK-BALLED OF THE UNITED SERVICE.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Black bottles at Brighton,</p> +<p class="i2">To darken your fame;</p> +<p>Black Sundays at Hounslow,</p> +<p class="i2">To add to your shame.</p> +<p>Black balls at the club,</p> +<p class="i2">Show Lord Hill’s growing duller:</p> +<p>He should change your command</p> +<p class="i2">To the <em>guards</em> of that colour.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page10" name="page10"></a>[pg +10]</span> +<h2>ON THE INTRODUCTION OF PANTOMIME INTO THE ENGLISH +LANGUAGE.</h2> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/001-05.png"><img src= +"images/001-05.png" alt="A man thumbing his nose" id="img001-05" +name="img001-05" width="25%" /></a></div> +<p>English—it has been remarked a thousand and odd +times—is one of the few languages which is unaccompanied with +gesticulation. Your veritable Englishman, in his discourse, is as +chary as your genuine Frenchman is prodigal, of action. The one +speaks like an oracle, the other like a telegraph.</p> +<p>Mr. Brown narrates the death of a poor widower from starvation, +with his hands fast locked in his breeches’ pocket, and his +features as calm as a horse-pond. M. le Brun tells of the +<em>debut</em> of the new <em>danseuse</em>, with several kisses on +the tips of his fingers, a variety of taps on the left side of his +satin waistcoat, and his head engulfed between his two shoulders, +like a cock-boat in a trough of the sea.</p> +<p>The cause of this natural diversity is not very apparent. The +deficiency of gesture on our parts may be a necessary result of +that prudence which is so marked a feature of the English +character. Mr. Brown, perhaps, objects to using two means to attain +his end when one is sufficient, and consequently looks upon all +gesticulation during conversation as a wicked waste of physical +labour, which that most sublime and congenial science of Pol. Econ. +has shown him to be the source of all wealth. To indulge in +pantomime is, therefore, in his eyes, the same as throwing so much +money in the dirt—a crime which he regards as second in +depravity only to that of having none to throw. Napoleon said, many +years back, we were a nation of shopkeepers; and time seems to have +increased, rather than diminished, our devotion to the ledger. Gold +has become our sole standard of excellence. We measure a +man’s respectability by his banker’s account, and mete +out to the pauper the same punishment as the felon. Our very +nobility is a nobility of the breeches’ pocket; and the +highest personage in the realm—her most gracious +Majesty—the most gracious Majesty of 500,000<em>l</em>. per +annum! Nor is this to be wondered at. To a martial people like the +Romans, it was perfectly natural that animal courage should be +thought to constitute heroic virtue: to a commercial people like +ourselves, it is equally natural that a man’s worthiness +should be computed by what he is worth. We fear it is this +commercial spirit, which, for the reason before assigned, is +opposed to the introduction of pantomime among us; and it is +therefore to this spirit that we would appeal, in our endeavours to +supply a deficiency which we cannot but look upon as a national +misfortune and disgrace. It makes us appear as a cold-blooded race +of people, which we assuredly are not; for, after all our wants are +satisfied, what nation can make such heroic sacrifices for the +benefit of their fellow creatures as our own? A change, however, is +coming over us: a few pantomimic signs have already made their +appearance amongst us. It is true that they are at present chiefly +confined to that class upon whose manners politeness places little +or no restraint—barbarians, who act as nature, rather than as +the book of etiquette dictates, (and among whom, for that very +reason, such a change would naturally first begin to show itself:) +yet do we trust, by pointing out to the more refined portion of the +“British public,” the advantage that must necessarily +accrue from the general cultivation of the art of pantomime, by +proving to them its vast superiority over the comparatively tedious +operations of speech, and exhibiting its capacity of conveying a +far greater quantity of thought in a considerably less space of +time, and that with a saving of one-half the muscular +exertion—a point so perfectly consonant with the present +prevailing desire for cheap and rapid communication—that we +say we hope to be able not only to bring the higher classes to look +upon it no longer as a vulgar and extravagant mode of expression, +but actually to introduce and cherish it among them as the most +polite and useful of all accomplishments.</p> +<div class="figleft"><a href="images/001-06.png"><img src= +"images/001-06.png" alt="A man winking" id="img001-06" name= +"img001-06" width="100%" /></a></div> +<p>But in order to exhibit the capacities of this noble art in all +their comprehensive excellence, it is requisite that we should, in +the first place, say a few words on language in general.</p> +<p>It is commonly supposed that there are but two kinds of language +among men—the written and the spoken: whereas it follows, +from the very nature of language itself, that there must +necessarily be as many modes of conveying our impressions to our +fellow-creatures, as there are senses or modes of receiving +impressions in them. Accordingly, there are five senses and five +languages; to wit, the audible, the visible, the olfactory, the +gustatory, and the sensitive. To the two first belong speech and +literature. As illustrations of the third, or olfactory language, +may be cited the presentation of a pinch of Prince’s Mixture +to a stranger, or a bottle of “Bouquet du Roi” to a +fair acquaintance; both of which are but forms of expressing to +them nasally our respect. The nose, however, is an organ but little +cultivated in man, and the language which appeals to it is, +therefore, in a very imperfect state; not so the gustatory, or that +which addresses itself to the palate. This, indeed, may be said to +be imbibed with our mother’s milk. What words can speak +affection to the child like elecampane—what language assures +us of the remembrance of an absent friend like a brace of +wood-cocks? Then who does not comprehend the eloquence of dinners? +A rump steak, and bottle of old port, are not these to all guests +the very emblems of esteem—and turtle, venison, and +champagne, the unmistakeable types of respect? If the citizens of a +particular town be desirous of expressing their profound admiration +of the genius of a popular author, how can the sentiment be +conveyed so fitly as in a public dinner? or if a candidate be +anxious to convince the “free and independent electors” +of a certain borough of his disinterested regard for the +commonweal, what more persuasive language could he adopt than the +general distribution of unlimited beer? Of the sensitive, or fifth +and last species of language, innumerable instances might be +quoted. All understand the difference in meaning between cuffs and +caresses—between being shaken heartily by the hand and kicked +rapidly down stairs. Who, however ignorant, could look upon the +latter as a compliment? or what fair maiden, however simple, would +require a master to teach her how to construe a gentle compression +of her fingers at parting, or a tender pressure of her toe under +the dinner table?</p> +<p>Such is an imperfect sketch of the five languages appertaining +to man. There is, however, one other—that which forms the +subject of the present article—Pantomime, and which may be +considered as the natural form of the visible +language—literature being taken as the artificial. This is +the most primitive as well as most comprehensive, of all. It is the +earliest, as it is the most intuitive—the smiles and frowns +of the mother being the first signs understood by the infant. +Indeed, if we consider for a moment that all existence is but a +Pantomime, of which Time is the harlequin, changing to-day into +yesterday, summer into winter, youth into old age, and life into +death, and we but the clowns who bear the kicks and buffets of the +scene, we cannot fail to desire the general cultivation of an art +which constitutes the very essence of existence itself. +“Speech,” says Talleyrand, that profound political +pantomimist, “was given to <em>conceal</em> our +thoughts;” and truly this is the chief use to which it is +applied. We are continually clamouring for acts in lieu of words. +Let but the art of Pantomime become universal, and this grand +desideratum must be obtained. Then we shall find that candidates, +instead of being able, as now, to become legislators by simply +professing to be patriots, will be placed in the awkward +predicament of having first to <em>act</em> as such; and that the +clergy, in lieu of taking a tenth part of the produce for the mere +preaching of Christianity, will be obliged to sacrifice at least a +portion to charitable purposes, and <em>practise</em> it.</p> +<p>Indeed, we are thoroughly convinced, that when the manifold +advantages of this beautiful art shall be generally known, it +cannot fail of becoming the principle of universal communication. +Nor do we despair of ultimately finding the elegant Lord A. avowing +his love for the beautiful Miss B., by gently closing one of his +eyes, and the fair lady tenderly expressing that doubt and +incredulity which are the invariable concomitants of +“Love’s young dream,” by a gentle indication with +the dexter hand over the sinister shoulder.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/001-07.png"><img src= +"images/001-07.png" alt= +"A man laying a finger aside of his nose, and another with a thumbs-up" +id="img001-07" name="img001-07" width="50%" /></a></div> +<hr /> +<h3>AN ALLIGATOR CHAIRMAN.</h3> +<p>An action was recently brought in the Court of Queen’s +Bench against Mr. Walter, to recover a sum of money expended by a +person named Clark, in wine, spirits, malt liquors, and other +refreshments, during a contest for the representation of the +borough of Southwark. One of the witnesses, who it appears was +chairman of Mr. Walter’s committee, swore that <em>every +thing the committee had to eat or drink went through him.</em> By a +remarkable coincidence, the counsel for the plaintiff in this +tippling case was <em>Mr. Lush.</em></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page11" name="page11"></a>[pg +11]</span> +<h2>AN ODE.</h2> +<h3>PICKED UP IN KILLPACK’S DIVAN.</h3> +<h4>Cum notis variorum.</h4> +<blockquote class="note">“Excise Court.—An information +was laid against Mr. Killpack, for selling spirituous liquor. Mr. +James (the counsel for the defendant) stated that there was a club +held there, of which Mr. Keeley, the actor, was treasurer, and many +others of the theatrical profession were members, and that they had +a store of brandy, whiskey, and other spirits. Fined £5 in +each case.”—<em>Observer</em></blockquote> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<h6>INVOCATION.</h6> +<p>Assist, ye jocal nine<sup>1</sup>,<span class="sidenote">1. +“Ye jocal nine,” a happy modification of “Ye +vocal nine.” The nine here so classically invocated are +manifestly nine of the members of the late club, consisting of, 1. +Mr. D—s J—d. 2. The subject of the engraving, treasurer +and store-keeper. 3. Mr. G—e S—h, sub-ed. +J—— B——. 4. Mr. B—d, Mem. Dram. +Author’s Society. 5. C—s S—y, ditto. 6. Mr. +C—e. 7. Mr. C—s, T—s, late of the firm of +T—s and P—t. 8. Mr. J—e A—n, Mem. Soc. +British Artists. 9, and lastly, “though not least,” the +author of “You loved me not in happier days.”</span> +inspire my soul!</p> +<p>(Waiter! a go of Brett’s best alcohol,</p> +<p>A light, and one of Killpack’s mild Havannahs).</p> +<p>Fire me! again I say, while loud hosannas</p> +<p>I sing of what we were—of what we <em>now</em> are.</p> +<p class="i4">Wildly let me rave,</p> +<p class="i4">To imprecate the knave</p> +<p>Whose curious <em>information</em> turned our porter sour,</p> +<p>Bottled our stout, doing it (ruthless cub!)</p> +<p class="i6">Brown,</p> +<p class="i6">Down</p> +<p>Knocking our snug, unlicensed club;</p> +<p>Changing, despite our <em>belle esprit</em>, at one fell +<em>swop</em>,</p> +<p>Into a legal coffee-crib, our contraband cook-shop!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<h6>ODE.</h6> +<p>Then little Bob arose,</p> +<p class="i4">And doff’d his clothes,</p> +<p>Exclaiming, “Momus! Stuff!</p> +<p>I’ve played him long enough,”</p> +<p>And, as the public seems inclined to sack us,</p> +<p>Behold me ready <em>dressed</em> to play young Bacchus.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/001-08.png"><img src= +"images/001-08.png" alt= +"Bacchus straddling a barrel marked 'Best British Brandy Not Permitted'" +id="img001-08" name="img001-08" width="100%" /></a></div> +<p class="i2">He said<sup>2</sup><span class="sidenote">2. +“He said.”—Deeply imbued with the style of the +most polished of the classics, our author will be found to exhibit +in some passages an imitation of it which might be considered +pedantic, for ourselves, we admire the severe style. The literal +rendering of the ‘<em>dixit</em>’ of the ancient +epicists, strikes us as being eitremely forcible +here.—PUNCH.</span> his legs the barrel span,</p> +<p class="i2">And thus the Covent Garden god began;—</p> +<p>“GENTLEMEN,—I am—ahem—!—I beg your +pardon,</p> +<p>But, ahem! as first low com. of Common Garden—</p> +<p>No, I don’t mean that, I mean to say,</p> +<p>That if we were—ahem!—to pay</p> +<p>So much per quarter for our quarterns, [Cries of +‘Hear!’]</p> +<p>Import our own champagne and ginger-beer;</p> +<p>In short, <em>small</em> duty pay on all we sup—</p> +<p>Ahem!—you understand—I give it up.”</p> +<p class="i4">The speech was ended,</p> +<p class="i4">And Bob descended.</p> +<p>The club was formed. A spicy club it was—</p> +<p>Especially on Saturdays; because</p> +<p>They dined extr’ordinary cheap at five o’clock:</p> +<p>When there were met members of the Dram. A. Soc.</p> +<p>Those of the sock and buskin, artists, court +gazetteers—</p> +<p>Odd fellows all—<em>odder</em> than all their club +compeers.</p> +<p>Some were sub-editors, others reporters,</p> +<p>And more <em>illuminati</em>, joke-importers.</p> +<p class="i4">The club was heterogen’ous</p> +<p class="i4">By strangers seen as</p> +<p>A refuge for destitute <em>bons mots</em>—</p> +<p><em>Dépôt</em> for leaden jokes and pewter +pots;</p> +<p>Repertory for gin and <em>jeux d’esprit</em>,</p> +<p>Literary pound for vagrant rapartee;</p> +<p>Second-hand shop for left-off witticisms;</p> +<p>Gall’ry for Tomkins and +Pitt-icisms;<sup>3</sup><span class="sidenote">3. A play-bill +reminiscence, viz. “The scenery by Messrs. Tomkins and +Pitt.”—THE AUTHORS OF “BUT, +HOWEVER.”</span></p> +<p>Foundling hospital for every bastard pun;</p> +<p>In short, a manufactory for all sorts of fun!</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Arouse my muse! such pleasing themes to quit,</p> +<p class="i4">Hear me while I say</p> +<p class="i4">“<em>Donnez-moi du frenzy, s’il vous +plait!</em>”<sup>4</sup><span class="sidenote">4. +“Donnez-moi,” &c.—The classics of all +countries are aptly drawn upon by the universal erudition of our +bard. A fine parody this upon the exclamation of Belmontel’s +starving author: “La Gloire—donnez-moi do +pain!”—FENWICK DE PORQUET.</span></p> +<p>Give me a most tremendous fit</p> +<p>Of indignation, a wild volcanic ebullition,</p> +<p class="i4">Or deep anathema,</p> +<p class="i4">Fatal as J—d’s bah!</p> +<p>To hurl excisemen downward to perdition.</p> +<p>May genial gin no more delight <em>their</em> +throttles—</p> +<p><em>Their</em> casks grow leaky, bottomless <em>their</em> +bottles;</p> +<p>May smugglers <em>run</em>, and they ne’er make a +seizure;</p> +<p>May <em>they</em>—I’ll curse them further at my +leisure.</p> +<p class="i4">But for our club,</p> +<p class="i4">“Ay, there’s the rub.”</p> +<p>“We mourn it dead in its father’s +halls:”<sup>5</sup><span class="sidenote">5. “They +mourn it dead,” &c.—A pretty, but perhaps too +literal allusion to a popular song—J. +RODWELL.</span>—</p> +<p>The sporting prints are cut down from the walls;</p> +<p class="i4">No stuffing there,</p> +<p class="i4">Not even in a chair;</p> +<p>The spirits are all <em>ex</em>(or)<em>cised</em>,</p> +<p>The coffee-cups capsized,</p> +<p>The coffee <em>fine</em>-d, the snuff all taken,</p> +<p>The mild Havannahs are by lights forsaken:</p> +<p>The utter ruin of the club’s achieven—</p> +<p>Our very chess-boards are ex-<em>chequered</em> even.</p> +<p>“Where is our club?” +X—sighs,<sup>6</sup><span class="sidenote">6. +“X—sighs.”—Who “X” may happen +to be we have not the remotest idea. But who would not forgive a +little mystification for so brilliant a pun?—THE GHOST OF +PUNCH’S THEATRE.</span> and with a stare</p> +<p>Like to another echo, answers “Where?”</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>MR. HUME.</h3> +<p>We are requested by Mr. Hume to state, that being relieved from +his parliamentary duties, he intends opening a day-school in the +neighbourhood of the House of Commons, for the instruction of +members only, in the principles of the illustrious Cocker; and to +remedy in some measure his own absence from the Finance Committees, +he is now engaged in preparing a Parliamentary Ready-reckoner. We +heartily wish him success.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>“PRIVATE.”</h3> +<p>“In the event of the Tories coming into power, it is +intended to confer the place of Postmaster-General upon Lord +Clanwilliam. It would be difficult to select an individual more +<em>peculiarly</em> fitted for the situation than his lordship, +whose <em>love of letters</em> is notorious in the Carlton +Club.”—<em>Extract from an Intercepted Letter.</em></p> +<hr /> +<h3>“AND DOTH NOT A MEETING LIKE THIS MAKE +AMENDS?”</h3> +<p>It is currently reported at the Conservative Clubs, that if +their party should come into power, Sir Robert Peel will endeavour +to conciliate the Whigs, and to form a coalition with their former +opponents. We have no doubt the cautious baronet sees the necessity +of the step, and would feel grateful for support from any quarter; +but we much doubt the practicability of the measure. It would +indeed he a strange sight to see Lord Johnny and Sir Bobby, the two +great leaders of the opposition engines, with their followers, +meeting amicably on the floor of the House of Commons. In our +opinion, an infernal crash and smash would be the result of +these</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/001-09.png"><img src= +"images/001-09.png" alt= +"Four trains meeting at an intersection with bodies strewn about." +id="img001-09" name="img001-09" width="50%" /></a> +<p>GRAND JUNCTION TRAINS.</p> +</div> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page12" name="page12"></a>[pg +12]</span> +<h2>THE DRAMA.</h2> +<p>The “star system” has added another victim to the +many already sacrificed to its rapacity and injustice. Mr. Phelps, +an actor whose personation of <em>Macduff</em>, the <em>Hunchback, +Jaques</em>, &c., would have procured for him in former times +no mean position, has been compelled to secede from the Haymarket +Theatre from a justifiable feeling of disgust at the continual +sacrifices he was required to make for the aggrandisement of one to +whom he may not possibly ascribe any superiority of genius. The +part assigned to Mr. Phelps (<em>Friar Lawrence</em>) requires an +actor of considerable powers, and under the old +<em>régime</em> would have deteriorated nothing from Mr. +Phelps’ position; but we can understand the motives which +influenced its rejection, and whilst we deprecate the practice of +actors refusing parts on every caprice, we consider Mr. +Phelps’ opposition to this ruinous system of +“starring” as commendable and manly. The real cause of +the decline of the drama is the upholding of this system. The +“stars” are paid so enormously, and cost so much to +maintain them in their false position, that the manager cannot +afford (supposing the disposition to exist) to pay the working +portion of his company salaries commensurate with their usefulness, +or compatible with the appearance they are expected to maintain out +of the theatre; whilst opportunities of testing their powers as +actors, or of improving any favourable impression they may have +made upon the public, is denied to them, from the fear that the +influence of the greater, because more fortunate actor, may be +diminished thereby. These facts are now so well known, that men of +education are deterred from making the stage a profession, and +consequently the scarcity of rising actors is referable to this +cause.</p> +<p>The poverty of our present dramatic literature may also be +attributable to this absurd and destructive system. The +“star” must be considered alone in the construction of +the drama; or if the piece be not actually made to measure, the +actor, <em>par excellence</em>, must be the arbiter of the +author’s creation. Writers are thus deterred from making +experiments in the higher order of dramatic writing, for should +their subject admit of this individual display, its rejection by +the “star” would render the labour of months valueless, +and the dramatist, driven from the path of fame, degenerates into a +literary drudge, receiving for his wearying labour a lesser +remuneration than would be otherwise awarded him, from the +pecuniary monopoly of the “star.”</p> +<p>It is this system which has begotten the present indifference to +the stage. The public had formerly <em>many</em> favourites, +because all had an opportunity of contending for their +favour—now they have only Mr. A. or Mrs. B., who must +ultimately weary the public, be their talent what it may, as the +sweetest note would pall upon the ear, were it continually sounded, +although, when harmonised with others, it should constitute the +charm of the melody.</p> +<p>We have made these remarks divested of any personal +consideration. We quarrel only with the system that we believe to +be unjust and injurious to an art which we reverence.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>VAUXHALL.—Vauxhall! region of Punch, both liquid and +corporeal!—Elysium of illumination lamps!—Paradise of +Simpson!—we have been permitted once again to breathe your +oily atmosphere, to partake of an imaginary repast of impalpable +ham and invisible chicken—to join in the eruption of +exclamations at thy pyrotechnic glories—to swallow thy +mysterious arrack and</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/001-10.png"><img src= +"images/001-10.png" alt="A jester wearing a toga" id="img001-10" +name="img001-10" width="25%" /></a> +<p>PUNCH A LA ROMAINE.</p> +</div> +<p>We have seen Jullien, the elegant, pantomimic Jullien, exhibit +his six-inch wristbands and exquisitely dressed head—we have +roved again amid those bowers where, with Araminta Smith, years +ago,</p> +<p style="text-align:center;">“We met the daylight after +seven hours’ sitting.”</p> +<p>But we were not happy. There was a something that told us it was +not Vauxhall: the G R’s were V R’s—the cocked +hats were round hats—the fiddlers were foreigners—the +Rotunda was Astley’s—the night was moon-shiny—and +there was not—our pen weeps whilst we trace the mournful +fact—there was not “Simpson” to exclaim, +“Welcome to the royal property!” Urbane M.A.C., wouldst +that thou hadst been a Mussulman, then wouldst thou doubtlessly be +gliding about amid an Eden of Houris, uttering to the verge of time +the hospitable sentence which has rendered thy name +immortal—Peace to thy manes!</p> +<p>STRAND.—The enterprising managers of this elegant little +theatre have produced another mythological drama, called “The +Frolics of the Fairies; or, the Rose, Shamrock, and Thistle,” +from the pen of Leman Rede, who is, without doubt, the first of +this class of writers. The indisposition of Mr. Hall was stated to +be the cause of the delay in the production of this piece; out, +from the appearance of the bills, we are led to infer that it arose +from the <em>indisposition</em> of Mrs. Waylett to shine in the +same hemisphere with that little brilliant, Mrs. Keeley, and +“a gem of the first water” she proved herself to be on +Wednesday night. It would be useless to enter into the detail of +the plot of an ephemeron, that depends more upon its quips and +cranks than dramatic construction for its success. It abounds in +merry conceits, which that merriest of—dare we call her mere +woman?—little Mrs. Bob rendered as pointed as a Whitechapel +needle of the finest temper. The appointments and arrangements of +the stage reflect the highest credit on the management, and the +industry which can labour to surmount the difficulties which we +know to exist in the production of anything like scenic effect in +the Strand Theatre, deserve the encouragement which we were +gratified to see bestowed upon this little Temple of Momus.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The Olympic Theatre has obtained an extension of its licence +from the Lord Chamberlain, and will shortly open with a company +selected from Ducrow’s late establishment; but whether the +<em>peds</em> are <em>bi</em> or <em>quadru</em>, rumour sayeth +not.</p> +<h5>A CARD.</h5> +<p>MESSRS. FUDGE and VAMP beg to inform novelists and writers of +tales in general, that they supply <em>dénouements</em> to +unfinished stories, on the most reasonable terms. They have just +completed a large stock of catastrophes, to which they respectfully +solicit attention.</p> +<h5>FOR MELO-DRAMA.</h5> +<p>Discovery of the real murderers, and respite of the accused.</p> +<p>Ditto very superior, with return of the supposed victim.</p> +<p>Ditto, ditto, extra superfine, with punishment of vice and +reward of virtue.</p> +<h5>FOR FARCES.</h5> +<p>Mollification of flinty-hearted fathers and union of lovers, +&c. &c. &c.</p> +<h5>FOR COMEDIES.</h5> +<p>Fictitious bankruptcy of the hero, and sudden reinstatement of +fortune.</p> +<p>Ditto, ditto, with exposure of false friends.</p> +<p>Non-recognition of son by father, ultimate discovery of former +by latter.</p> +<p>Ditto, ditto, very fine, “with convenient cordial,” +and true gentlemen, illustrated by an old <em>debauchee</em>.</p> +<p>N.B.—On hand, a very choice assortment of interesting +parricides, strongly recommended for Surrey use.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<h5>WHY AND BECAUSE.</h5> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Young Kean’s a bad cigar—because</p> +<p>The more he’s puff’d, the worse he draws.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>A new farce, entitled “My Friend the Captain,” is to +be produced tonight, at the Haymarket Theatre.</p> +<p>MR. HAMMOND will take a benefit at the English Opera House, on +Monday next. We are happy to see that this very deserving +actor’s professional brethren are coming forward to lend him +that assistance which he has always been ready to afford to +others.</p> +<h5>TO MRS. H.</h5> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Thou sweet, to whom all bend the knee,</p> +<p>No wonder men run after thee;</p> +<p>There’s something in a name, perhaps,</p> +<p>For <em>Honey’s</em> often good for <em>chaps</em>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>A MR. GRAHAM has appeared at the Surrey. He is reported to be a +very chaste and clever actor. If so, he certainly will not suit the +taste of Mr. Davidge’s patrons. How they have tolerated +Wilson, Leffler, and Miss Romer so long, we are utterly at a loss +to divine. It must be, that “music hath charms.”</p> +<p>We are authorised to state that Rouse of the Eagle Tavern is not +the Rous who was lately returned for Westminster.</p> +<h5>THE REAL AND THE IDEAL; OR, THE CATASTROPHE OF A VICTORIA +MELO-DRAMA.</h5> +<p><em>Berthelda</em>.—Sanguine, you have killed your +<em>mother</em>!!!</p> +<p><em>Fruitwoman</em>.—Any apples, oranges, biscuits, +ginger-beer!</p> +<p>(<em>Curtain falls</em>.)</p> +<hr /> +<h3>QUALIFICATIONS FOR AN M.P.</h3> +<p>We give the following list of qualifications for a member of +parliament for Westminster, as a logical curiosity, extracted from +a handbill very liberally distributed by Captain Rons’s +party, during the late contest:—</p> +<p>1st. Because “he is <em>brother to the Earl</em> of +Stradbroke.”</p> +<p>2nd. Because “his <em>family</em> have always been hearty +Conservatives.”</p> +<p>3rd. Because “they have been established in +<em>Suffolk</em> from the time of the +<em>Heptarchy</em>.”</p> +<p>4th. Because “he entered the navy in 1808.”</p> +<p>5th. Because “he <em>brought home Lord Aylmer</em> in the +Pique, in 1835.”</p> +<p>6th. Because “he ran the Pique aground in the Straits of +Belleisle.”</p> +<p>7th. Because “after beating there for eleven hours, he got +her off again.”</p> +<p>8th. Because “he brought her into Portsmouth without a +rudder or forefoot, lower-masts all sprung, and leaking at the rate +of two feet per hour!” ergo, he is the fittest man for the +representative of Westminster.—Q.E.D.</p> +<h3>THE ENTIRE ANIMAL.</h3> +<p>LORD LONDONDERRY, in a letter to Colonel Fitzroy, begs of the +gallant member to “go the whole hog.” This is natural +advice from a <em>thorough bore</em> like his lordship.</p> +<hr class="full" /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13639 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/13639-h/images/001-01.png b/13639-h/images/001-01.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7412f37 --- /dev/null +++ b/13639-h/images/001-01.png diff --git a/13639-h/images/001-02.png b/13639-h/images/001-02.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e974ba --- /dev/null +++ b/13639-h/images/001-02.png diff --git a/13639-h/images/001-03.png b/13639-h/images/001-03.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7cf34ce --- /dev/null +++ b/13639-h/images/001-03.png diff --git a/13639-h/images/001-04.png b/13639-h/images/001-04.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ade8e94 --- /dev/null +++ b/13639-h/images/001-04.png diff --git a/13639-h/images/001-05.png b/13639-h/images/001-05.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9912f93 --- /dev/null +++ b/13639-h/images/001-05.png diff --git a/13639-h/images/001-06.png b/13639-h/images/001-06.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2b07258 --- /dev/null +++ b/13639-h/images/001-06.png diff --git a/13639-h/images/001-07.png b/13639-h/images/001-07.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a1d94bc --- /dev/null +++ b/13639-h/images/001-07.png diff --git a/13639-h/images/001-08.png b/13639-h/images/001-08.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb8ed7d --- /dev/null +++ b/13639-h/images/001-08.png diff --git a/13639-h/images/001-09.png b/13639-h/images/001-09.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..01a72c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/13639-h/images/001-09.png diff --git a/13639-h/images/001-10.png b/13639-h/images/001-10.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..55dd953 --- /dev/null +++ b/13639-h/images/001-10.png diff --git a/13639-h/images/votingcant.png b/13639-h/images/votingcant.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..14d4832 --- /dev/null +++ b/13639-h/images/votingcant.png |
