The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 1,
October 23, 1841, by Various
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Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 1, October 23, 1841
Author: Various
Release Date: February 7, 2005 [EBook #14933]
Language: English
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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 1.
FOR THE WEEK ENDING OCTOBER 23, 1841.
* * * * *
THE GREAT CREATURE.
Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk was a tall young man, a thin young man, a
pale young man, and, as some of his friends asserted, a decidedly
knock-kneed young man. Moreover he was a young man belonging to and
connected with the highly respectable firm of Messrs. Tims and Swindle,
attorneys and bill-discounters, of Thavies'-inn, Holborn; from the which
highly respectable firm Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk received a salary
of one pound one shilling per week, in requital for his manifold services.
The vocation in which Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk laboured partook
peculiarly of the peripatetic; for at all sorts of hours, and through all
sorts of streets was Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk daily accustomed to
transport his anatomy--presenting overdue bills, inquiring after absent
acceptors, invisible indorsers, and departed drawers, for his masters, and
wearing out, as he Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk eloquently expressed
it, "no end of boots for himself." Such was the occupation by which Mr.
Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk lived; but such was not the peculiar path to
fame for which his soul longed. No! "he had seen plays, and longed to
blaze upon the stage a star of light."
That portion of time which was facetiously called by Messrs. Tims and
Swindle "the leisure" of Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, being some
eight hours out of the twenty-four, was spent in poring over the glorious
pages of the immortal bard; and in the desperate enthusiasm of his heated
genius would he, Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, suddenly burst forth in
some of the most exciting passages, and with Stentorian lungs "render
night hideous" to the startled inhabitant of the one-pair-back, adjoining
the receptacle of his own truckle-bed and mortal frame.
Luck, whether good or evil, begat Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk an
introduction to some other talented young gentlemen, who had so far
progressed in histrionic acquirements, that from spouting themselves, they
had taken to spouting their watches, and other stray articles of small
value, to enable them to pay the charges of a private theatre, where, as
often as they could raise the needful, they astonished and delighted their
wondering friends. Among this worshipful society was Mr. Horatio
Fitzharding Fitzfunk adopted and enrolled as a trusty and well-beloved
member; and in the above-named private theatre, in suit of solemn black,
slightly relieved by an enormous white handkerchief, and a well-chalked
countenance, did Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, at or about the hour of
half past eight--being precisely sixty minutes behind the period
announced, in consequence of the non-arrival of the one fiddle and ditto
flute comprising, or rather that ought to have comprised, the
orchestra--made his début, and a particularly nervous bow to the good
folks there assembled, "as and for" the character "of Hamlet, the Danish
Prince."
To describe the "exclamations of delight," the "tornadoes of applause,"
the earthquakes of rapture, or the "breathless breathing" of the entranced
audience, would beat Mr. Bunn into fits, and the German company into
fiddle-cases; so, like a newspaper legacy, which is the only one that
never pays duty, we "_leave_ it to our reader's imagination."
The die was cast. Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk's former avocations
became intensely irksome--if he served a writ it was no longer a "writ of
right." Copies for "Jenkins" were consigned to "Tompkins;" "Brown"
declined pleading to "Smith" and Smith declared off Brown's declaration.
In inquiries after "solvent acceptors," Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk
was still more abroad. In the mystification of his brains, all answers
seemed to be delivered "per contra." Forlorn hopes on three-and sixpenny
stamps were converted into the circulating medium; "good actors" were
considered "good men" in the very reverse of Shylock's acceptation of the
term; and astonished indorsers succeeded in "raising the wind" upon
"kites" they would have bet any odds no "wind in the world could induce to
fly." Everything in this world must come to an end--bills generally do in
three months: so did these, and so did Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk's
responsible and peripatetic avocations in the highly respectable firm of
Messrs. Tims and Swindle, attorneys, and to their cost, through the agency
of Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, bill-discounters, of Thavies' Inn,
Holborn; they, the said highly respectable firm of Tims and Swindle,
handing over to Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk the sum of four and
tenpence, being the balance of his quarter's salary, which, so great was
Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk's opinion of the solvency of the said
highly respectable firm, he had allowed to remain undrawn in their hands,
together with a note utterly and totally declining any further service or
assistance as "_in_" or "_out_door" or any sort of clerk at all, from Mr.
Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, and amiably recommending the said Horatio to
apply elsewhere for a character; the which advice Mr. Horatio Fitzharding
Fitzfunk attended to instanter, and received, in consideration of the sum
of thirty shillings, that of "Richard the Third" from the Dramatic
Committee of Catherine Street. If Hamlet was good, Richard (among the
amateurs) was better; and if Richard was better, Shylock (at "one five")
was best, and Romeo and all the rest better still: and it may be worthy of
remark, that there is no person on earth looked upon by admiring managers
as more certain of success than the "promising young man who PAYS for his
parts."
Now it so happened that Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk's purse became an
exceedingly "Iago"-like, "something, nothing, trashy" sort of affair--in
other words, that its owner, Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, was
regularly stumped; and as the Amateur Dramatic Theatrical Committee
"always go upon the _no pay no play system_," Mr. Horatio Fitzharding
Fitzfunk was about to incur the fate of Lord John Russell's tragedy, and
become regularly "shelved."
In this dilemma Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk addressed all sorts of
letters to all sorts of managers, offering himself for all sorts of
salaries, to play the best of all sorts of business, but never received
any sort of answer from one of them! Returning to his solitary lodging,
after a fortnight's "half and half" of patience and despair, and just as
despair was walking poor patience to Old Harry, Mr. Horatio Fitzharding
Fitzfunk encountered one of his histrionic acquaintance, who did the
"three and sixpenny walking gents," and dramatic general postmen, or
letter-deliverers, at "the Private." In the course of the enlightened
conversation between the said friend, Mr. Julius Dilberry Pipps, and Mr.
Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, Julius Dilberry Pipps expressed an earnest
wish that he "might be blowed considerably tighter than the Vauxhall
balloon if ever he _see_ such a likeness of Mr. Hannibal Fitzflummery
Fitzflam," the "great actor of the day," as his "_bussom_ and intimate,"
Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk! A nervous pressure of Mr. Horatio
Fitzharding Fitzfunk's "pickers and stealers" having nearly reduced to one
vast chaos the severely compressed digits of the enthusiastic Julius
Dilberry Pipps, the invisible green broad-cloth envelopments and drab
lower encasements, crowned with gossamer and based with calf-skin, wherein
the total outward man of Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk was enrobed,
together with his ambulating anatomy, evanished from the startled gaze of
the deserted and finger-contused Julius Dilberry Pipps! Having asserted
the entire realisation of his hastily-formed wish, in the emphatic words,
"Well, I _am_ blowed!" and a further comment, stating his conviction that
"this was _rayther_ a rummy go," Mr. Julius Dilberry Pipps reduced his
exchequer the gross amount of threepence, paid in consideration of the
instant receipt of "a pint o'porter and screw," to the fumigation of which
he applied with such excessive vigour, that in a few moments he might be
said, by his own exertions in "blowing a cloud," to be corporeally as well
as mentally "in nubibus."
To account for the rapid departure of Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, we
must inform our readers the supposed similarity alluded to by Julius
Dilberry Pipps, between the "great creature," Hannibal Fitzflummery
Fitzflam, and Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, had been before frequently
insisted upon: and this assertion of the obtuse Julius Dilberry Pipps now
seemed "confirmation strong as proof of holy writ." Agitated with
conflicting emotions, and regardless of small children and apple-stalls,
Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk rushed on with headlong speed, every now
and then ejaculating, "I'll do it, I'll do it!" A sudden overhauling of
his pockets produced some stray halfpence; master of a "Queen's head," a
sheet of vellum, a new "Mordaunt," and an "envelope," Mr. Horatio
Fitzharding Fitzfunk, arrived at his three-pair-back, indited an epistle
to the manager at the town of ----, with extraordinary haste signed the
document, and, in "the hurry of the moment," left the inscription
thus--H.F. FITZFLAM! The morrow's post brought an answer; the terms were
acceded to, the night appointed for his opening; and Mr. Horatio
Fitzharding Fitzfunk found, upon inspecting the proof of the playbill, the
name in full of "_Mr. Hannibal Fitzflummery Fitzflam_," "the great
tragedian of the day!"
Pass we over the intervening space, and at once come to the momentous
morning of rehearsal. The expected Roscius arrived like punctuality's
self, at the appointed minute, was duly received by the company, who had
previously been canvassing his merits, and assuring each other that all
stars were _muffs_, but Fitzflam one of the most impudent impostors that
ever moved. "I, sir," said the leader of the discontented
fifteen-shillings-a-week-when-they-could-get-it squad, "I have been in the
_profession_ more years than this fellow has months, and he is getting
hundreds where I am neglected: never mind! only give me a chance, and I'll
show him up. But I suppose the management--(pretty management, to engage
such a chap when I'm here)--I suppose they will truckle to him, and send
me on, as usual, for some wretched old bloke there's no getting a hand in.
John Kemble himself (and I'm told I'm in his style), I say, John Kemble,
my prototype, the now immortal John, never got applause in
'_Blokes!_'--But never mind." As a genealogist would say, "Fitz the son of
Funk" never more truly represented his ancestral cognomen than on this
trying occasion. He was no longer with amateurs, but regulars,--fellows
that could "talk and get on somehow;" that were never known to stick in
Richard, when they remembered a speech from George Barnwell; men with
"swallows" like Thames tunnels: in fact, accomplished "gaggers" and
unrivalled "wing watchers." However, as Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk
spoke to none of them, crossed where he liked, cut out most of _their_
best speeches, and turned _all_ their _backs_ to the audience, he passed
muster exceedingly well, and acted the genuine star with considerable
effect. So it was at night. Some folks objected to his knees, to be sure;
but then they were silenced--"What! Fitzflam's knees bad! Nonsense!
Fitzflam is the thing in London; and do you think Fitzflam ought to be
decried in the provinces? hasn't he been lithographed by Lane? Pooh!
impudence! spite!" The great _name_ made Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk
"the great man," and all went swimmingly. On the last night of his
engagement, the night devoted to his benefit, the house was crammed, and
Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk, reflecting that all was "cock sure," as
he should pocket the proceeds and return to London undiscovered, was
elevated to Mahomet's seventh heaven of happiness, awaiting with
impatience the prompter's whistle and the raising of the curtain: where
for a time we will leave him, and attend upon the real "Simon Pure"--the
genuine and "old original Hannibal Fitzflummery Fitzflam."
(_To be continued._)
* * * * *
ATRY-ANGLE.
SIR R. PEEL has been recently so successful in fishing for adherents,
that, since bobbing so cleverly for Wakley, he has baited his hook afresh,
and intends to start for Minto House forthwith; having his eye upon a
certain small fish that is ever seen _Russell_ing among the sedges in
troubled waters. We trust Sir Bob will succeed this time in
[Illustration: FISHING FOR JACK.]
* * * * *
PUNCH'S COMMISSION TO INQUIRE INTO THE GENERAL DISTRESS.
I.--_Copy of a Letter from the Under Secretary of State to Punch._
Downing-street.
Sir,--Knowing that you are everywhere, the Secretary of State has desired
me to request you will inquire into the alleged distress, and particularly
into the fact of people who it is alleged are so unreasonable in their
expectations of food, as to die because they cannot get any.
I have the honour to be, &c.
HORATIO FITZ-SPOONY
II.--_Copy of Punch's Letter to the Under Secretary of State._
Sir,--I have received your note. I am everywhere; but as everything is gay
when I make my appearance, I have not seen much of the distress you speak
of. I shall, however, make it my business to look the subject up, and will
convey my report to the Government.
I think it no honour to be yours, &c.; but
I have the very great honour to be myself without any &c.
PUNCH.
In compliance with the above correspondence, Punch proceeded to make the
necessary inquiries, and very soon was enabled to forward the following
REPORT ON THE PUBLIC DISTRESS.
_To Her Majesty's Secretary of State for the Home Department._
Sir,--In compliance with my undertaking to inquire into the public
distress, I went into the manufacturing districts, where I had heard that
several families were living in one room with nothing to eat, and no bed
to lie upon. Now, though it is true that there are in some places as many
as thirty people in one apartment, I do not think their case very
distressing, because, at all events, they have the advantage of society,
which could not be the case if they were residing in separate apartments.
It is clear that their living together must be a matter of choice, because
I found in the same town several extensive mansions inhabited by one or
two people and a few servants; and there are also some hundreds of houses
wholly untenanted. Now, if we multiply the houses by the rooms in them,
and then divide by the number of the population, we should find that there
will be an average of three attics and two-sitting-rooms for each family
of five persons, or an attic and a half with one parlour for every two and
a half individuals; and though one person and a half would find it
inconvenient to occupy a sleeping room and three-quarters, I think my
calculation will show you that the accounts of the insufficiency of
lodging are gross and wicked exaggerations, only spread by designing
persons to embarrass the Government.
With regard to the starvation part of the question, I have made every
possible inquiry, and it is true that several people have died because
they would not eat food; for the facts I shall bring to your notice will
prove that no one can have perished from the _want_ of it. Now, after
visiting a family, which I was told were in a famishing state, what was my
surprise to observe a baker's shop exactly opposite their lodging, whilst
a short way down the street there was a butcher's also! The family
consisted of a husband and wife, four girls, eight boys, and an infant of
three weeks old, making in all fifteen individuals. They told me they were
literally dying of hunger, and that they had applied to the vestry, who
had referred them to the guardians, who had referred them to the overseer,
who had referred them to the relieving officer, who had gone out of town,
and would be back in a week or two. Not even supposing there were a brief
delay in attending to their case, at least by the proper authorities, you
will perceive that I have already alluded to a baker's and a butcher's,
_both_ (it will scarcely be believed at the Home-office) in the _very
street_ the family were residing in. Being determined to judge for myself,
I counted personally the number of four-pound loaves in the baker's
window, which amounted to thirty-six, while there were twenty-five
two-pound loaves on the shelves, to say nothing of fancy-bread and flour
_ad libitum_. But let us take the loaves alone,
36 loaves, each weighing four pounds,
Multiplied by 4
---
will give 144 pounds of wheaten bread;
To which must be added 50 pounds (the weight of the 25 half-qtns.),
---
Making a total of 194 pounds of good wholesome bread,
which, if divided amongst a family of fifteen, would give 12 pounds and 14
fractions of a pound to each individual. Knocking off the baby, for the
sake of uniformity, and striking out the mother, both of whom might be
supposed to take the fancy bread and the flour, which I have not included
in my calculation, and in order to get even numbers, supposing that 194
pounds of bread might become 195 pounds by over weight, we should get the
enormous quantity of fifteen full pounds weight of bread, or a stone and
one-fourteenth, (more, positively, than anybody ought to eat), for the
husband and each of the children (except the baby, who gets a moiety of
the rolls) belonging to this _starving family_!!! You will see, Sir, how
shamefully matters have been misrepresented by the Anti-Corn-Law
demagogues; but let us now come to the butcher's meat.
It will hardly be credited that I counted no less than fourteen sheep
hanging up in the shop I have alluded to, while there was a bullock being
skinned in the back yard, and a countless quantity of liver and lights all
over the premises. Knocking off the infant again for the sake of
uniformity, you will perceive that the fourteen sheep would be one sheep
each for every member of this family, including the mother, to whom we
gave half the rolls and flour in the former case, and there still remains
(to say nothing of the entire bullock for the baby of three weeks, which
no one will deny to be sufficient) a large quantity of lights, et cetera,
for the cat or dog, if there should be such a wilful extravagance in the
family. With these facts I close my report, and I trust that you will see
how thoroughly I have proved the assertion of the Duke of Wellington--that
if there is distress, it must be in some way quite unconnected with a want
of food, for there is plenty to eat in every part of the country.
I shall be happy to undertake further inquiries, and shall have no
objection to consider myself regularly under Government.
Yours obediently,
PUNCH.
* * * * *
THE TEA SERVICE ON SEA SERVICE.
LORD JOCELYN, in his recent work upon China, while writing upon the
pastimes and amusements of the people, expresses great satisfaction at the
entertainment afforded travellers in their private assemblies; though he
confesses, as a general principle, he should always avoid making one in
the more promiscuous
[Illustration: CHINESE JUNKETTING.]
* * * * *
THE HEIR OF APPLEBITE.
CHAPTER VII.
CONTAINS A VERY FAIR BILL OF FARE.
[Illustration: S]Simultaneously with the last chord of the last quadrille
the important announcement was made that supper was ready--a piece of
information that produced a visible commotion among the party. Young
gentlemen who had incautiously engaged old or ugly partners evinced a
decided desire to get rid of them, or, by the expression of their
countenances, seemed to be inwardly cursing their unfortunate situation.
Young ladies in whose bosoms the first "slight predilection" had taken up
a residence, experienced, they knew not why, a mental and physical
prostration at the absence of Orlando Sims or Tom Walker, who (how
provoking!) were doing the gallant to some "horrid disagreeable
coquettes." Mamas, who really did like a good supper, and considered it
an integral portion of their daily sustenance, crowded towards the door
that led to the comestibles, fearing that they might not get eligible
situations before the solids, but be placed among the bashful young
gentlemen, who linger to the last to pull off their gloves in order to
pull them on again, and look as though they considered they ought to be
happy and were extremely surprised that they were not.
The arrangement of the supper-table displayed the deep research of
Mesdames Applebite and Waddledot in the mysteries of gastronomical
architecture. Pagodas of barley-sugar glistened in the rays of thirty-six
wax candles and four Argand lamps--parterres of jellies, gravelled round
with ratafias or valanced with lemon-peel, trembled as though in sympathy
with the agitated bosoms of their delicate concocters--custards freckled
with nutmeg clustered the crystal handles of their cups
together--sarcophagi of pound cakes frowned, as it were, upon the
sweetness which surrounded them--whilst fawn-coloured elephants (from the
confectionary menagerie of the celebrated Simpson of the Strand) stood
ready to be slaughtered. Huge stratified pies courted the inquiries of
appetite. Chickens boiled and roast reposed on biers of blue china
bedecked with sprigs of green parsley and slices of yellow lemon. Tanks of
golden sherry and
[Illustration: FULL-BODIED PORTE]
wooed the thirsty revellers; and never since the unlucky
dessert of Mother Eve have temptations been so willingly embraced. The
carnage commenced--spoons dived into the jelly--knives lacerated the
poultry and the raised pies--a colony of custards vanished in a
moment--the elephants were demolished by "ivories[1]"--the sarcophagi were
buried--and the glittering pagodas melted rapidly before the heat and the
attacks of four little ladies in white muslin and pink sashes. The tanks
of sherry and port were distributed by the young gentlemen into the
glasses and over the dresses of the young ladies. The tipsy-cake, like the
wreck of the _Royal George_, was rescued from the foaming ocean in which
it had been imbedded. The diffident young gentlemen grew very red about
the eyes, and very loquacious about the "next set after supper;" whilst
the faces of the elderly ladies all over lie room looked like the red
lamps on Westminster Bridge, and ought to have been beacons to warn the
inexperienced that where they shone there was very little water. The
violent clattering of the plates was at length succeeded by a succession
of merry giggles and provoking little screams, occasioned by the rapid
discharge of a park of _bonbons_.
[1] _Anglicè_, Teeth.--THE _one_ PIERCE.
Where the "slight predilection" was reciprocated, the Orlando Simses and
the Tom Walkers were squeezing in beside the blushing idols of their
worship and circling the waists of their divinities with their arms, in
order to take up less room on the rout-stool.
Mamas were shaking heads at daughters who had ventured upon a tenth sip of
a glass of sherry. Papas were getting extremely jocular about the
probability of becoming grand-dittos. Everybody else was doing exactly
what everybody pleased, when Mrs. Applebite's uncle John emerged from
behind an epergne, and vociferously commanded everybody to charge their
glasses; a requisition which nobody was bold enough to dispute. Uncle John
then wiped his lips in the table-cloth, and proceeded to inform the
company of a fact that was universally understood, that they had met there
to celebrate the first dental dawn of the heir of Applebite. "I have only
to refer you," said uncle John, "to the floor of the next room for the
response to my request--namely, that you will drain your glasses; and, in
the words of nephew Agamemnon Collumpsion Applebite, 'partake of our
dental delight.'" This eloquent address was followed by immense cheering
and a shower of sherry bottoms, which the gentlemen in their "entusymusy"
scattered around them as Hesperus is reported to dispense his tee-total
drops.
Nothing could be going on better--no woman could feel prouder than Mrs.
Waddledot, when--we hope you don't anticipate the catastrophe--when two of
the Argand lamps gave olfactory demonstrations of dissolution. Sperm oil
is a brilliant illuminator, but we never knew any one except an Esquimaux,
or a Russian, who preferred it to lavender-water as a perfume. Old John
was in a muddle of misery--evidently
[Illustration: LOOKING DOWN UPON HIS LUCK.--]
and was only relieved from his embarrassment by the following fortunate
occurrence:--
By-the-bye, we have just recollected that we have an invitation to dinner.
Reader--_au revoir_.
* * * * *
NEW WORKS NOW IN THE PRESS.
An Abstract and Brief Chronicle of the Times. Very small duodecimo. By Mr.
ROEBUCK.
A New Dissertation on the Anatomy of the Figures of the Multiplication
Table. By JOSEPH HUME.
Outlines of the Late Ministry, after _Ten Years_ (Teniers). By Lord
MELBOURNE.
Recollections of Place. By Lord JOHN RUSSELL.
Mythological Tract upon the Heathen Deity Cupid. By Lord PALMERSTON.
Explanatory Annotations on the Abstruse Works of the late Joseph (_vulgo_
Joe) Miller. With a humorous etching of his tombstone, and Original
Epitaph. By Colonel SIBTHORP.
Also, by the same Author, an Ornithological Treatise on the various
descriptions of Water-fowl; showing the difference between Russia and
other Ducks, and why the former are invariably sold in pairs.
A few words on Indefinite Subjects, supposed to be Sir Robert Peel's
Future Intentions. By Mr. WAKLEY.
* * * * *
AMERICAN CONGRESS.
We hasten to lay before our readers the following authentic reports of the
latest debates in the United States' Congress, which have been forwarded
to us by our peculiarly and especially exclusive Reporters.
_New York._--The greatest possible excitement exists here, agitating alike
the bosoms of the Whites, the Browns, and the Blacks; a universal sympathy
appears to exist among all classes, the greater portion of whom are
looking exceedingly blue. The all-absorbing question as to whether the
"war is to be or not to be," seems an exceedingly difficult one to answer.
One party says "Yes," and another party says "No," and a third party says
the above parties "Lie in their teeth;" and thereupon issue is joined, and
bowie-knives are exchanged--the "Yes" walking away with "No's" sheathed in
the middle of his back, and the "No" making up for his loss by securing
the "Yes's" somewhere between his ribs. All the black porters are looking
out for light jobs, and rushing about with shutters and cards of address,
bearing high-minded "Loco-focos" and shot-down "democrats" to their
respective surgeons and houses. This unusual bustle and activity gives the
more political parts of the city an exceedingly brisk appearance, and has
caused most of the eminent surgeons, not attached to either party, to be
regularly retained by the principal speakers in these most interesting
debates.
In Congress great attention is paid to the comfort of the various members,
who are all provided with spittoons, though they are by no means compelled
to tie themselves down to the exclusive use of those expectorant
receptacles; on the contrary, much ingenuity is shown by some of the more
practised in picking out other deposits; a vast majority of the
Kentuckians will back themselves to "shoot through" the opposition
member's nose and eye-glass without touching "flesh or flints."
The prevailing opinion appears to be, that should we come to a fight they
will completely alter the costume of the country, and "whop us into fits."
Their style of elocution is masterly in the extreme, redolent with the
sagest deductions, and overflowing with a magnificent and truly Eastern
redundancy of the most poetical tropes. I will now proceed to give you an
extract from the celebrated speaker on the war side--"the renowned
Jonathan J. Twang."
"I rather calculate that tarnal, pisoned, alligator of a ring-tailed,
roaring, pestiferous, rattlesnake, that critter 'the Old Country,' would
jist about give up one half its skin, and wriggle itself slick out of the
other, rayther than go for to put our dander up at this present identical
out-and-out important critical crisis! I conceit their min'stry have got
jist about into as considerable a tarnation nasty fix, as a naked nigger
in the stocks when the mosquitoes are steaming up a little beyond high
pressure. I guess Prince Albert and the big uns don't find their seats
quite as soft as buttered eels in a mud bank! Look here--isn't it
considerable clear they're all funking like burnt Cayenne in a clay pipe;
or couldn't they have made a raise some how to get a ship of their own, or
borrow one, to send after that caged-up 'coon of a Macleod? It's my
notion, and pretty considerable clear to me, they're all bounce, like bad
chesnuts, very well to look at, but come to try them at the fire for a
roast, and they turn out puff and shell. They talk of war as the boy did
of whipping his father, but like him, they daresn't do it, and why not?
why, for the following elegant reasons:--Since they have been used to the
advantages of doing their little retail trade with our own go-ahead and
carry-all-before-it right slick-up-an-end double-distilled essence of a
genuine fine and civilised country, the everlasting 'possums have become
habituated to some of the manners of our enlightened inhabitants. We have
nothing to do but refuse the supply of cottons, and leave them all with as
little shirts to their backs as wool on a skinned eel. Isn't it the
intercourse with this here country that enables them to speak their very
language with something rayther like a leetle correctness, though they're
just about as far behind us as the last jint of the sea-sarpent is from
his eye-tooth?
"Doesn't all international law consist in keeping an everlasting bright
look-out on your own side, and jamming all other varments slick through a
stone wall, as the waggon-wheel used up the lame frog? (Hear, hear.) I
say--and mind you I'll stick to it like a starved sloth to the back of a
fat babby--I say, gentlemen, this country, the United States (particularly
Kentucky, from which I come, and which will whip all the rest with
out-straws and rotten bull-rushes agin pike, bagnet, mortars, and all
their almighty fine artillery), I say, then, this country is considerable
like a genuine fac-simile of the waggon-wheel, and the pretty oneasy
busted-up old worn-out island of the bull-headed Britishers, ain't nothing
more than the tee-totally used-up frog. (Hear, hear.)
"I expect they'd have just as much chance with us as a muzzled monkey with
a hiccory-nut. Talk of their fleet! I'll bet six live niggers to a dead
'coon, our genuine Yankee clippers will whip them into as bad a fix as a
flying-fish with a gull at his head and a shark at his tail. They're jist
about as much out of their reckoning as the pig that took to swimming for
his health and cut his throat trying it on.
"It's everlasting strange to me if, to all future posterity coming after
us, the word 'Macleod' don't shut up their jaws from bragging of British
valour just about as tight as the death-squeeze of a boa-constrictor round
a smashed-up buffalo!
"If it wa'n't for the distance and leaving my plantation, I'd go over with
any on you, and help to use up the lot myself! Let them 'come on,' as the
tiger said to the young kid, and see what 'I'll do for you.' They talk of
sending out their chaps here, do they; let them; they'll be just about as
happy as a toad in hot tar, and that's a fact." Here Jonathan J. Twang sat
down amid immense cheers; at the conclusion of which, Mr. Peter P.
Pellican, from the back-woods, requested--he, Peter P. Pellican, being
from _Orleans_--that Mr. Jonathan J. Twang would retract certain words
derogatory to the state represented by Peter P. Pellican. Mr. Jonathan J.
Twang replied in the following determined refusal:--"I beg to inform the
last speaker, Mr. Peter P. Pellican, from the back-woods, that I'll see
him tee-totatiously tarred, feathered, and physicked with red-hot oil and
fish-hooks, before I'll retract one eternal syllable of my pretty
particular correct assertions."
This announcement created considerable confusion. The President behaved in
the most impartial and manly manner, indiscriminately knocking down all
such of both parties who came within reach of his mace, and not leaving
the chair until he had received two black eyes and lost two front teeth.
The general _mêlée_ was carried on with immense spirit; the more violent
members on either side pummelling each other with the most hearty and
legislative determination. This exciting scene was continued for some
time, until during a short cessation a member with a broken leg proposed
an adjournment till the following day, when the further discussion could
be carried on with Bowie-knives and pistols; this proposition was at once
acceded to with immense delight by all parties. If well enough (as I have
two broken ribs, my share of the row) I will forward you an authentic
statement of this interesting proceeding.
* * * * *
EPITAPH ON A CANDLE.
A _wicked_ one lies buried here,
Who died in a _decline_;
He never rose in rank, I fear,
Though he was born to _shine_.
He once was _fat_, but now, indeed,
He's thin as any griever;
He died,--the Doctors all agreed,
Of a most _burning_ fever.
One thing of him is said with truth,
With which I'm much amused;
It is--That when he stood, forsooth,
A _stick_ he always used.
Now _winding-sheets_ he sometimes made,
But this was not enough,
For finding it a poorish trade,
He also dealt in _snuff_.
If e'er you said "_Go out_, I pray,"
He much ill nature show'd;
On such occasions he would say,
"Vy, if I do, _I'm blow'd_."
In this his friends do all agree,
Although you'll think I'm joking,
When _going out_ 'tis said that he
Was very fond of _smoking_.
Since all religion he despised,
Let these few words suffice,
Before he ever was baptized
They _dipp'd_ him once or twice.
* * * * *
SIBTHORP ON BORTHWICK.
Our Sibthorp, while speaking of the asinine qualities of Peter Borthwick,
remarked, that in his opinion that respectable member of the Lower House
must be indebted to the celebrated medicine promising extreme "length of
ears," and advertised as
[Illustration: PARR'S SPECIFIC.]
* * * * *
FIRE! FIRE!
A REMONSTRANCE WITH THE NINTH OF NOVEMBER.
How melancholy an object is a "polished front," that vain-glorious and
inhospitable array of cold steel and willow shavings, in which the
emancipated hearth is annually constrained by careful housewives to
signalise the return of summer, and its own consequent degradation from
being a part of the family to become a piece of mere formal furniture. And
truly in cold weather, which (thanks to the climate, for we love our
country) is all the weather we get in England, the fire is a most
important individual in a house: one who exercises a bland authority over
the tempers of all the other inmates--for who could quarrel with his feet
on the fender? one with whom everybody is anxious to be well--for who
would fall out with its genial glow? one who submits with a graceful
resignation to the caprices of every casual elbow--and who has never poked
a fire to death? one whose good offices have endeared him alike to the
selfish and to the cultivated,--at once a host, a mediator, and an
occupation.
We have often had our doubts (but then we are partial) whether it be not
possible to carry on a conversation with a fire. With the aid of an
evening newspaper by way of interpreter, and in strict confidence, no
third party being present, we feel that it can be done. Was there an
interesting debate last night? were the ministers successful, or did the
opposition carry it? In either case, did not the fire require a vigorous
poke just as you came to the division? and did not its immediate flame,
or, on the contrary, its dull, sullen glow, give you the idea that it
entertained its own private opinions on the subject? And if those opinions
seemed contrary to yours, did you not endeavour to betray the sparks into
an untenable position, by submitting them to the gentle sophistry of a
poker nicely insinuated between the bars? or did you not quench with a
sudden retort of small coal its impertinent congratulation at an
unfortunate result? until, when its cordial glow, penetrating that
unseemly shroud, has given evidence of self-conviction, you felt that you
had dealt too harshly with an old friend, and hastened to make it up with
him again by a playful titillation, more in jest than earnest.
But this is all to come. Not yet (with us) have the kindly old bars,
reverend in their attenuation, been restored to their time-honoured
throne; not yet have the dingy festoons of pink and white paper
disappeared from the garish mantel. Still desolate and cheerless shows the
noble edifice. The gaunt chimney yawns still in sick anticipation of
deferred smoke. The "irons," innocent of coal, and polished to the tip,
skulk and cower sympathetically into the extreme corner of the fender. The
very rug seems ghastly and grim, wanting the kindly play of the excited
flame. We have no comfort in the parlour yet: even the privileged kitten,
wandering in vain in search of a resting-place, deems it but a chill
dignity which has withdrawn her from the warm couch before the
kitchen-fire. Things have become too real for home. We have no joy now in
those delicious loiterings for the five minutes before dinner--those
casual snatches of Sterne, those scraps of Steele. We have left off
smiling; we are impregnable even to a pun. What _is_ the day of the month?
Surely were not October retrospectively associated (in April and glorious
May) with the grateful magnificence of ale, none would be so unpopular as
the chilly month. There is no period in which so much of what ladies call
"unpleasantness" occurs, no season when that mysterious distemper known as
"warming" is so epidemic, as in October. It is a time when, in default of
being conventionally cold, every one becomes intensely cool. A general
chill pervades the domestic virtues: hospitality is aguish, and charity
becomes more than proverbially numb.
In twenty days how different an appearance will things wear! The magic
circle round the hearth will be filled with beaming faces; a score of
hands will be luxuriously chafing the palpable warmth dispensed by a
social blaze; some more privileged feet may perchance be basking in the
extraordinary recesses of the fender. We shall consult the thermometer to
enjoy the cold weather by contrast with the glowing comfort within. We
shall remark how "time flies," and that "it seems only yesterday since we
had a fire before;" forgetful of the hideous night and the troublous
dreams that have intervened since those sweet memories. And all this--in
twenty days.
We are no innovators: we respect all things for their age, and some for
their youth. But we would hope that, in humbly looking for a fire in the
cold weather, even though November be still in the store of time, we
should be exhibiting no dangerous propensities. If, as we are inclined to
believe, fires were discovered previously to the invention of lord mayors,
wherefore should we defer our accession to them until he is welcomed by
those frigid antiquities Gog and Magog? Wherefore not let fires go out
with the old lord mayor, if they needs must come in with the new?
Wherefore not do without lord mayors altogether, and elect an annual grate
to judge the prisoners at the _bar_ in the Mansion House, and to listen to
the quirks of the facetious Mr. _Hob_-ler?
* * * * *
AN APPROPRIATE GIFT.
We perceive that the fair dames of Nottingham have, with compassionate
liberality, presented to Mr. Walter, one of the Tory candidates at the
late election, a silver _salver_. What a delicate and appropriate gift for
a man so beaten as Master Walter!--the pretty dears knew where he was
hurt, and applied a silver salve--we beg pardon, _salver_--to his wounds.
We trust the remedy may prove consolatory to the poor gentleman.
* * * * *
NOT A STEP FA(R)THER.
The diminutive chroniclers of Animalcula-Chatter, called small-talk, have
been giving a minute description of the goings on of His Grace of
Wellington at Walmer. They hint that he sleeps and wakes by clock-work,
eats by the ounce, and drinks and walks by measure. During the latter
recreation, it is his _pleasure_, they tell us, to use one of _Payne's_
pedometers to regulate his march. Thus it is quite clear the great Captain
will never become a
[Illustration: "SOLDIER TIRED."]
* * * * *
A MALE DUE.
The Post-office in Downing-street has been besieged by various inquirers,
who are anxiously seeking for some information as to the expected arrival
of the Royal Male.
* * * * *
CURIOUS SYNONYMS.
Sir Peter Laurie discovered during his residence in Boulogne that _veau_
is the French for _veal_. On his return to England, being at a public
dinner, he exhibited his knowledge of the tongues by asking a brother
alderman for a slice of his _weal_ or _woe_.
* * * * *
HAPPY LAND!
Six young girls, inmates of the Lambeth workhouse, were brought up at
Union Hall, charged with breaking several squares of glass. In their
defence, they complained that they had been treated worse in the workhouse
than they would be in prison, and said that it was to cause their
committal to the latter place they committed the mischief. What a
beautiful picture of moral England this little anecdote exhibits! What
must be the state of society in a country where crime is punished less
severely than poverty?
Old England, bless'd and favour'd clime!
Where paupers to thy prisons run;
Where poverty's the only crime
That angry justice frowns upon.
* * * * *
THE NEW STATE STRETCHER.
"What an uncomfortable bed Peel has made for himself!" observed Normanby
to Palmerston. "That's not very clear to me, I confess," replied the
Downing-street Cupid, "as it is acknowledged he sleeps on a _bolstered
cabinet_." The pacificator of Ireland closed his face for the remainder of
the day.
* * * * *
The latest case of monomania, from our own specially-raised American
correspondent:--A gentleman who fancied himself a pendulum always went
upon tick, and never discovered his delusion until he was carefully wound
up in the Queen's Bench.
* * * * *
"VERY LIKE A WHALE."
The first of all the royal infant males
_Should_ take the title of the Prince of _Wales_;
Because 'tis clear to seaman and to lubber,
Babies and _whales_ are both inclined to _blubber_.
* * * * *
ARRIVED AT LAST.
We perceived by a paragraph copied from the "_John o'Groats Journal_,"
that an immense Whale, upwards of _seventy-six_ feet in length, was
captured a few days since at Wick. Sir Peter Laurie and Alderman Humphrey
on reading this announcement _naturally_ concluded that the _Wick_
referred to was our gracious Queen _Wic_, and rushed off to
Buckingham-palace to pay their united tribute of loyalty to the
long-expected _Prince of Wales_.
* * * * *
EPIGRAM.
I'm going to seal a letter, Dick,
Some _wax_ pray give to me.
I have not got a _single stick_,
Or _whacks_ I'd give to thee.
* * * * *
THE PICTORIAL HISTORY OF PARLIAMENT.
In our last we briefly adverted to the gratifying fact that Mr. Barry had
at least a thousand superficial feet on the walls of the new Houses of
Parliament at the services of the historical painters of England; and we
also, in a passing manner, suggested a few compositions worthy of their
pencils. A reconsideration of the matter convinces us that the subject is
too important--too national, to be adopted as merely the fringe of our
article; and we have therefore determined within ourselves to devote our
present essay to a serious discussion of the various pictures that are, or
_ought_, to decorate the interior of the new House of Commons. As for the
House of Lords, we see no necessity whatever for lavishing the fine
inspirations of art on that temple of wisdom; inasmuch as the sages who
deliberate there are, for the most part, born legislators, coming into the
world with all the rudiments of government in embryo in their baby heads,
and, on the twenty-first anniversary of their birthday, putting their legs
out of bed adult, full-grown law-makers. It would be the height of
democratic insolence to attempt to teach these chosen few: it would, in
fact, be a misprision of treason against the sovereignty of Nature, who,
when making the _pia mater_ of a future peer of England, knows very well
the delicate work she has in hand, and takes pains accordingly. It is
different when she manufactures a mob of skulls which, by a jumble of
worldly accidents, or by the satire of Fortune in her bitterest mood, may
ultimately belong to Members of the House of Commons. These she makes, as
they make blocks in Portsmouth-yard, a hundred a minute. All she has to do
is to fulfil her contract with the world, taking care that there shall be
no want of the raw material for Members of Parliament, leaving it to
Destiny to work it up as she may. We have not the slightest doubt,
by-the-by, that poor Nature is often very much confounded by the ultimate
application of her own handiwork. We can fancy the venerable old gossip at
her business, patting up skulls as serenely as our lamented great
grandmother (she wrote a very pretty book on the beauties of population,
and illustrated the work, too, with portraits from her own hand) was wont
to pat up apple-dumplings:--we can imagine Nature--good old soul!--looking
over her spectacles at the infant dough, and saying to herself as she
finishes skull by skull--"Ha! that will do for a pawnbroker;"--"That, as
it's rather low and narrow, for a sharp attorney;"--"That for a parish
constable;"--"That for a clown at a fair,"--and so on. And we can well
imagine the astonishment of simple-hearted old Nature on getting a ticket
for the gallery of the House of Commons (for very seldom, indeed, has she
been known to show herself on the floor), to see her skull of a pawnbroker
on the shoulders of a Chancellor of the Exchequer; her _caput_ of the
sharp attorney belonging to a Minister of the Home Department; her head of
a parish constable as a Paymaster of the Forces; and the dough she had
intended to swallow knives and eat fire at wakes and fairs gravely
responded to as "an honourable and gallant member!" Whereupon, who can
wonder at the amazement and indignation of Mother Nature, and that, with a
keen sense of the misapplication of her skulls, she sometimes abuses
Mother Fortune in good set terms, mingling with her reproaches the
strongest reflections on her chastity?
We have thought it due to the full consideration of our subject so far, to
dwell upon the natural difference between the skull of a Peer and the
skull of a Commoner. The skull of the noble, as we have shown, is a thing
made to order--fitted up, like Mr. MECHI'S pocket-dressing-case, with the
ornamental and useful: no instrument can be added to it--the thing is
complete. Hence, to employ historical painters for the education of the
House of Lords would be a useless and profligate expenditure of art and
money. It would be to paint the lily LONDONDERRY--to add a perfume to the
violet ELLENBOROUGH. All Peers being from the first--indeed, even _in
utero_--ordained law-makers, statute-making comes to them by nature. How
much history goes to prove this, showing that the House of Lords--like the
Solomons of the _fleur-de-lis_--have learned nothing, and forgotten
nothing! To attempt to instruct a Peer would be as gross an impertinence
to the instinct of his order as to present MINERVA--who no doubt came from
the head of JOVE a Peeress in her own right--with a toy alphabet or
horn-book.
For the skulls of the House of Commons,--that is, indeed, another
question! We are so far utilitarian that we would have the pictures for
which Mr. BARRY offers a thousand feet selected solely with a view to the
dissemination of knowledge amongst the many benighted members of the House
of Commons. We would have the subjects so chosen that they should entirely
supersede _Oldfield's Representative History_; never forgetting the wants
of the most illiterate. For instance, for the politicians on the fifth
form, the SIBTHORPS and PLUMPTRES, whose education in their youth has been
shamefully neglected, we would have a nice pictorial political alphabet.
We do not pride ourselves, be it understood, upon writing unwrinkled
verse; we only present the subjoined as a crude idea of our plan, taken we
confess, from certain variegated volumes, to be had either of Mr. SOUTER,
St. Paul's Churchyard, or Messrs. DARTON and HARVEY, Holborn.
A was King ALFRED, a monarch of note;
B is BURDETT, who can well turn a coat.
Here we would have the chief incidents of Alfred's life nicely painted,
with BURDETT, late Old Glory, and now Old Corruption. As for the poetry,
when we consider the capacities of the learners, _that_ cannot be too
simple, too homely. The House, however, may order a Committee of
Versification, if it please; all that we protest against is D'ISRAELI
being of the number.
C is the CORN-LAWS, that famish'd the poor;
D is the DEBT, that will famish them more.
Here, for the imaginative artist, is an opportunity! To paint the wholesale
wickedness and small villanies of the Corn-laws! What a contrast of scene
and character! Squalid hovels, and princely residences--purse-proud,
plethoric injustice, big and bloated with, its iniquitous gains, and gaunt,
famine-stricken multitudes! Then for the Debt--that hideous thing begotten
by war and corruption; what a tremendous moral lesson might be learned from
a nightly conning of the terrific theme!
We have neither poetic genius nor space of paper to go through the whole
of the alphabet; we merely throw out the above four lines--and were we not
assured that they are better lines, far more musical, than any to be found
in BULWER'S SIAMESE TWINS, we should blush much nearer scarlet than we
do--to give an idea of the utility and beautiful comprehensiveness of our
plan.
The great difficulty, however, will be to compress the subjects--so
multitudinous are they--within the thousand feet allowed by the architect.
To begin with the Wittenagemot, or meeting of the wise men, and to end
with portraits of Mr. Roebuck's ancestors--to say nothing of the fine
imaginative sketch of the Member for Bath tilting, in the mode of Quixote
with the steam-press of Printing-house-square--will require the most
extraordinary powers of condensation on the parts of the artists.
Nevertheless, if the undertaking be even creditably executed, it will be a
monument of national wisdom and national utility to unborn generations of
Members. What crowds of subjects press upon us! The _History of Bribery_
might make a sort of Parliamentary Rake's Progress, if we could but hit
upon the artist to portray its manifold beauties. _The Windsor Stables_
and _the Education of the Poor_ would form admirable companion-pictures,
in which the superiority of the horse over the human animal could be most
satisfactorily delineated--the quadruped having considerably more than
three times the amount voted to him for snug lodging, hay, beans, and
oats, that the English pauper obtained from Parliament for that manure of
the soil--as congregated piety at Exeter Hall denominates it--a Christian
education!
What a beautiful arabesque border might be conceived from a perusal of the
late Lord Castlereagh's speeches! We should here have Parliamentary
eloquence under a most fantastic yet captivating phase. Who, for instance,
but the artist to PUNCH could paint CASTLEREAGH'S figure of a smug,
contented, selfish traitor, the "crocodile with his hand in his breeches'
pocket?" Again, does not the reader recollect that extraordinary person
who, according to the North Cray Demosthenes, "turned his back _upon
himself_?" There would be a portrait!--one, too, presenting food for the
most "sweet and bitter melancholy" to the GRAHAMS and the STANLEYS. There
is also that immortal Parliamentary metaphor, emanating from the same
mysterious source,--"The _feature_ upon which the question _hinges_!" The
only man who could have properly painted this was the enthusiastic BLAKE,
who so successfully limned the ghost of a flea! These matters, however,
are to be considered as merely supplementary ornaments to great themes.
The grand subjects are to be sought for in _Hansard's Reports_, in
petitions against returns of members, in the evidence that comes out in
the committee-rooms, in the abstract principles of right and wrong, that
make members honest patriots, or that make them give the harlot "ay" and
"no," as dictated by the foul spirit gibbering in their breeches' pockets.
That we may have painted all these things, Mr. BARRY offers up one
thousand feet. Oh! Mr. B. can't you make it ten!
Q.
* * * * *
PUNCH's PENCILLINGS.--No. XV.
[Illustration: REFLECTION.
"FAREWELL, A LONG FAREWELL, TO ALL MY GREATNESS."--_King Henry VIII_.]
* * * * *
THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE LONDON MEDICAL STUDENT.
4.--OF THE MANNER IN WHICH THE FIRST SEASON PASSES.
From the period of our last Chapter our friend commences to adopt the
attributes of the mature student. His notes are taken as before at each
lecture he attends, but the lectures are fewer, and the notes are never
fairly transcribed; at the same time they are interspersed with a larger
proportion of portraits of the lecturer, and other humorous conceits. He
proposes at lunch-time every day that he and his companions should "go the
odd man for a pot;" and the determination he had formed at his entry to
the school, of working the last session for all the prizes, and going up
to the Hall on the Thursday and the College on the Friday without
grinding, appears somewhat difficult of being carried into execution.
It is at this point of his studies that the student commences a steady
course of imaginary dissection: that is to say, he keeps a chimerical
account of extremities whose minute structure he has deeply investigated
(in his head), and received in return various sums of money from home for
the avowed purpose of paying for them. If he really has put his name down
for any heads and necks or pelvic viscera at the commencement of the
season, when he had imbibed and cherished some lunatic idea "that
dissection was the sheet-anchor of safety at the College," he becomes a
trafficker in human flesh, and disposes of them as quickly as he can to
any hard-working man who has his examination in perspective.
He now assumes a more independent air, and even ventures to chalk odd
figures on the black board in the theatre. He has been known, previously
to the lecture, to let down the skeleton that hangs by a balance weight
from the ceiling, and, inserting its thumb in the cavity of its nose, has
there secured it with a piece of thread, and then, placing a short pipe in
its jaws, has pulled it up again. His inventive faculties are likewise
shown by various diverting objects and allusions cut with his knife upon
the ledge before him in the lecture-room, whereon the new men rest their
note-books and the old ones go to sleep. In vain do the directors of the
school order the ledge to be coated with paint and sand mixed
together--nothing is proof against his knife; were it adamant he would cut
his name upon it. His favourite position at lecture is now the extremity
of the bench, where its horse-shoe form places him rather out of the range
of the lecturer's vision; and, ten to one, it is here that he has cut a
cribbage-board on the seat, at which he and his neighbour play during the
lecture on Surgery, concealing their game from common eyes by spreading a
mackintosh cape on the desk before them. His conversation also gradually
changes its tone, and instead of mildly inquiring of the porter, on his
entering the school of a morning, what is for the day's anatomical
demonstration, he talks of "the regular lark he had last night at the
Eagle, and how jolly screwed he got!"--a frank admission, which bespeaks
the candour of his disposition.
Careful statistics show us that it is about the end of November the new
man first makes the acquaintance of his uncle; and observant people have
remarked, as worthy of insertion in the Medical Almanack amongst the usual
phenomena of the calendar--"About this time dissecting cases and
tooth-instruments appear in the windows, and we may look for watches
towards the beginning of December." Although this is his first transaction
on his own account, yet his property has before ascended the spout, when
some unprincipled student, at the beginning of the season, picked his
pocket of a big silver lancet-case, which he had brought up with him from
the country; and having, pledged it at the nearest money-lender's, sent
him the duplicate in a polite note, and spent the money with some other
dishonest young men, in drinking their victim's health in his absence.
And, by the way, it is a general rule that most new men delight to carry
big lancet-cases, although they have about as much use for them as a
lecturer upon practice of physic has for top boots.
Thus gradually approaching step by step towards the perfection of his
state, the new man's first winter-session passes; and it is not unlikely
that, at the close of the course, he may enter to compete for the
anatomical prize, which he sometimes gets by stealth, cribbing his answers
from a tiny manual of knowledge, two inches by one-and-a-half in size,
which he hides under his blotting-paper. This triumph achieved, he devotes
the short period which intervenes before the commencement of the summer
botanical course to various hilarious pastimes; and as the watch and
dissecting-case are both gone, he writes the following despatch to his
governor--
LETTER No. II.--(_Copy._)
MY DEAR FATHER,--You will, I am sure, be delighted to learn that I have
gained the twenty-ninth honorary certificate for proficiency in anatomy
which you will allow is a very high number when I tell you that only
thirty are given. I have also the satisfaction of informing you that the
various professors have given me certificates of having attended their
lectures _very diligently_ during the past courses.
I work very hard, but I need not inform you that, with all my economy, I
am at some expense for good books and instruments. I have purchased
_Liston's Surgery_, Anthony Thompson's _Materia Medica_, Burns and
Merriman's _Midwifery_, Graham's _Chemistry_, Astley Cooper's
_Dislocations_, and Quain's _Anatomy_, all of which I have read carefully
through twice. I also pay a private demonstrator to go over the bones with
me of a night; and I have bought a skeleton at Alexander's--a great
bargain. This, when I "pass," I think of presenting to the museum of the
hospital, as I am under great obligations to the surgeons. I think a
ten-pound note willl clear my expenses, although I wish to enter to a
summer course of dissections, and take some lessons in practical chemistry
in the laboratories with Professor Carbon, but these I will endeavour to
pay for out of my own pocket. With my best regards to all at home, believe
me,
Your affectionate son,
JOSEPH MUFF.
As soon as the summer course begins, the Botanical Lectures commence with
it, and the polite Company of Apothecaries courteously request the
student's acceptance of a ticket of admission to the lectures, at their
garden at Chelsea. As these commence somewhere about eight in the morning,
of course he must get up in the middle of the night to be there; and
consequently he attends very often, of course. But the botanical
excursions that take place every Saturday from his own school are his
especial delight. He buys a candle-box to contain all the chickweed,
chamomiles, and dandelions he may collect, and slinging it over his
shoulder with his pocket-handkerchief, he starts off in company with the
Professor and his fellow-herbalists to Wandsworth Common, Battersea
Fields, Hampstead Heath, or any other favourite spot which the cockney
Flora embellishes with her offspring.
The conduct of medical students on botanical excursions generally appears
in various phases. Some real lovers of the study, pale men in spectacles,
who wear shoes and can walk for ever, collect every weed they drop upon,
to which they assign a most extraordinary name, and display it at their
lodgings upon cartridge paper, with penny pieces to keep the leaves in
their places as they dry. Others limit their collections to
stinging-nettles, which they slyly insert into their companions' pockets,
or long bulrushes, which they tuck under the collars of their coats; and
the remainder turn into the first house of public entertainment they
arrive at on emerging from the smoke of London to the rural districts, and
remain all day absorbed in the mysteries of ground billiards and
knock-'em-downs, their principal vegetable studies being confined to
lettuces, spring onions, and water-cresses. But all this is very
proper--we mean the botanical part of the story--for the knowledge of the
natural class and order of a buttercup must be of the greatest service to
a practitioner in after-life in treating a case of typhus fever or
ruptured blood-vessel. At some of the Continental Hospitals, the pupil's
time is wasted at the bedside of the patient, from which he can only get
practical information. How much better is the primrose-investigating
_curriculum_ of study observed at our own medical schools!
* * * * *
SOME THINGS TO WHICH THE IRISH WOULD NOT SWEAR.
MR. GROVE.--This insufferably ignorant, and, therefore, insolent
magisterial cur, who has recently made himself an object of unenviable
notoriety, by asserting that "the Irish would swear anything," has shown
himself to be as stupid as he is malignant. Would, for instance, the most
hard-mouthed Irishman in existence venture to swear that--
Mr. Grove is a gentleman; or that--
Sir Francis Burdett has brought honour to his grey hairs; or that--
Colonel Sibthorp has more brains than beard; or that--
Sir Robert Peel feels for anybody but himself; or that--
Peter Borthwick was listened to with attention; or that--
Sir Peter Laurie's wisdom cannot be estimated; or that--
Sir Edward George Erle Lytton Bulwer thinks very small beer of
himself; or that--
The Earl of Coventry carries a vast deal of sense under his hat; or
that--
Mr. Roebuck is the pet of the _Times_; or, in short, that--
The Tories are the best and most popular governors that England
ever had.
If "the Irish would swear" to the above, we confess they "would swear
anything."
* * * * *
COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE THEM.
SIR JAMES CLARK is in daily attendance at the Palace. We suppose that he
is looking out for a new berth under Government.
* * * * *
HOSTILITIES IN PRIVATE LIFE.
We have just heard of an event which has shaken the peace of a highly
respectable house in St. Martin's Court, from the chimney-pots to the
coal-cellar. Mrs. Brown, the occupier of the first floor, happened, on
last Sunday, to borrow of Mrs. Smith, who lived a pair higher in the
world, a German silver teapot, on the occasion of her giving a small
twankey party to a few select friends. But though she availed herself of
Mrs. Smith's German-silver, to add respectability to her _soirée_, she
wholly overlooked Mrs. Smith, who was _not_ invited to partake of the
festivities. This was a slight that no woman of spirit could endure; and
though Mrs. Smith's teapot was German-silver, she resolved to let Mrs.
Brown see that she had herself some real Britannia _mettle_ in her
composition. Accordingly when the teapot was sent up the following morning
to Mrs. Smith's apartments, with Mrs. Brown's "compliments and thanks,"
Mrs. Smith discovered or affected to discover, a serious contusion on the
lid of the article, and despatched it by her own servant back to Mrs.
Brown, accompanied by the subjoined note:--
"Mrs. Smith's compliments to Mrs. Brown, begs to return the
teapott to the latter--in consequence of the ill-usage it has
received in her hands."
Mrs. Brown, being a woman who piques herself upon her talent at epistolary
writing, immediately replied in the following terms:--
"Mrs. Brown's compliments to Mrs. Smith, begs to say that her
paltry teapot received no ill usage from Mrs. Brown.--Mrs. B. will
thank Mrs. S. not to put two _t_'s at the end of _teapot_ in
future."
This note and the teapot were forthwith sent upstairs to Mrs. Smith, whose
indignation being very naturally roused, she again returned the battered
affair, with this spirited missive:--
"Mrs. Smith begs to inform Mrs. Brown, that she despises her
insinuations, and to say, that she will put as many _t_'s as she
pleases in her _teapot_.
"P.S.--Mrs. S. expects to be paid 10s. for the injured article."
Again the teapot was sent upstairs, with the following reply from Mrs.
Brown:--
"Mrs. Brown thinks Mrs. Smith a low creature.
"P.S.--Mrs. B. won't pay a farthing."
The correspondence terminated here, the German-silver teapot remaining in
_statu quo_ on the lobby window, between the territories of the hostile
powers; and there it might have remained until the present moment, if Mrs.
Brown had not declared, in an audible voice, at the foot of the stairs,
that Mrs. Smith was acting under the influence of gin, which reaching the
ears of the calumniated lady, she rushed down to the landing-place, and
seizing the teapot, discharged it at Mrs. Brown's head, which it
fortunately missed, but totally annihilated a plaster figure of Napoleon,
which stood in the hall, and materially damaged its own spout. Mrs. Brown,
being wholly unsupported at the time, retired hastily within the defences
of her own apartments, which Mrs. Smith cannonaded vigorously for upwards
of ten minutes with a broom handle; and there is every reason to believe
she would shortly have effected a practicable breach, if a reinforcement
from the kitchen had not arrived to aid the besieged, and forced the
assailant back to her second-floor entrenchments. Mrs. Smith then demanded
a truce until evening, which was granted by Mrs. Brown; notwithstanding
which the former lady was detected, in defiance of this arrangement,
endeavouring to _blow up_ Mrs. Brown through the keyhole.
There is no telling how this unhappy difference will terminate; for though
at present matters appear tolerably quiet, we know not (as in the case of
the Canadas) at what moment we may have to inform our readers that
[Illustration: THE BORDERS ARE IN A FLAME.]
* * * * *
GEOLOGY OF SOCIETY.
SECTION II.
We last week described the different strata of society comprehended in the
INFERIOR SERIES, and the lower portion of the _Clapham Group_. We now beg
to call the attention of our readers to a most important division in the
next great formation--which has been termed the TRANSITION CLASS--because
the individuals composing it are in a gradual state of elevation, and have
a tendency to mix with the superior strata. By referring to the scale
which we gave in our first section, it will be seen that the lowest layer
in this class is formed by the people who keep shops and one-horse
"shays," and go to Ramsgate for three weeks in the dog-days. They all
exhibit evidences of having been thrown up from a low to a high level. The
elevating causes are numerous, but the most remarkable are those which
arise from the action of unexpected legacies. Lotteries were formerly the
cause of remarkable elevations; and speculation in the funds may be still
considered as amongst the elevating causes, though their effect is
frequently to cause a sudden sinking. Lying immediately above the "shop
and shay" people, we find the old substantial merchant, who every day
precisely as the clock strikes ten is in the act of hanging up his hat in
his little back counting-house in Fenchurch-street. His private house,
however, is at Brixton-hill, where the gentility of the family is
supported by his wife, two daughters, a piano, and a servant in livery.
The best and finest specimens of this strata are susceptible of a slight
polish; they are found very useful in the construction of joint stock
banks, railroads, and other speculations where a good foundation is
required. We now come to the _Russell-square group_, which comprehends all
those people who "live private," and aim at being thought fashionable and
independent. Many individuals of this group are nevertheless supposed by
many to be privately connected with some trading concern in the City. It
is a distinguishing characteristic of the second layer in this group to
have a tendency to give dinners to the superior series, while the
specimens of the upper stratum are always found in close proximity to a
carriage. Family descent, which is a marked peculiarity of the SUPERIOR
CLASS, is rarely to be met with in the _Russell-square group_. The fossil
animals which exist in this group are not numerous: they are for the most
part decayed barristers and superannuated doctors. Of the ST. JAMES'S
SERIES it is sufficient to say that it consists of four strata, of which
the superior specimens are usually found attached to coronets. Most of the
precious stones, as diamonds, rubies, emeralds, are also to be found in
this layer. The materials of which it is composed are various, and appear
originally to have belonged to the inferior classes; and the only use to
which it can be applied is in the construction of _peers_. Throughout all
the classes there occur what are called _veins_, containing diverse
substances. The _larking vein_ is extremely abundant in the superior
classes--it is rich in brass knockers, bell handles, and policemen's
rattles; this vein descends through all the lower strata, the specimens in
each differing according to the situation in which they are found; the
middle classes being generally discovered deposited in the Coal-hole
Tavern or the Cider-cellars, while the individuals of the very inferior
order are usually discovered in gin-shops and low pot-houses, and not
unfrequently
[Illustration: EMBEDDED IN QUARTS(Z).]
* * * * *
THE WAPPING DELUGE.
Father Thames, not content with his customary course, has been "swelling
it" in the course of the week, through some of the streets of the
metropolis. As if to inculcate temperance, he walked himself down into
public-house cellars, filling all the empty casks with water, and
adulterating all the beer and spirits that came in his way; turning also
every body's fixed into floating capital. Half empty butts, whose place
was below, came sailing up into the bar through the ceiling of the cellar;
saucepans were elevated from beneath the dresser to the dresser itself;
while cups were made "to pop off the hooks" with surprising rapidity.
But the greatest consternation that prevailed was among the _rats_,
particularly those in the neighbourhood of Downing-street, who were driven
out of the sewers they inhabit with astounding violence.
The dairies on the banks of the Thames were obliged to lay aside their
customary practice of inundating the milk; for such a "meeting of the
waters" as would otherwise have ensued must have proved rather too much,
even for the regular customers.
* * * * *
SAVORY CON. BY COX.
Why is it impossible for a watch that indicates the smaller divisions of
time ever to be new?--Because it must always be a second-hand one.
* * * * *
PUNCH'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE.--No. V.
NATURAL HISTORY (_Continued_).
THE OPERA-DANCER (_H. capernicus_--CERITOE).
So decidedly does this animal belong to the Bimana order of beings, that
to his two legs he is indebted for existence. Most of his fellow bipeds
live by the work of their hands, except indeed the feathered and tailor
tribes, who live by their bills; but from his thighs, calves, ancles, and
toes, does the opera-dancer derive subsistence for the less important
portions of his anatomy.
_Physiology._--The body, face, and arms of the opera-dancer present no
peculiarities above the rest of his species; and it is to his lower
extremities alone that we must look for distinguishing features. As our
researches extend downwards from head to foot, the first thing that
strikes us is a protuberance of the ante-occipital membranes, so great as
to present a back view that describes two sides of a scalene triangle, the
apex of which projects posteriorly nearly half way down the figure. That a
due equilibrium may be preserved in this difficult position (technically
called "the first"), the toes are turned out so as to form a right angle
with the lower leg. Thus, in walking, this curious being presents a mass
of animated straight lines that have an equal variety of inclination to a
bundle of rods carelessly tied up, or to Signor Paganini when afflicted
with the lumbago.
_Habits._--The habits of the opera-dancer vary according as we see him in
public or in private life. On the stage he is all spangles and activity;
off the stage, seediness and decrepitude are his chief characteristics. It
is usual for him to enter upon his public career with a tremendous bound
and a hat and feathers. After standing upon one toe, he raises its fellow
up to a line with his nose, and turns round until the applause comes, even
if that be delayed for several minutes. He then cuts six, and shuffles up
to a female of his species, who being his sweetheart (in the ballet), has
been looking savage envy at him and spiteful indignation at the audience
on account of the applause, which ought to have been reserved for her own
capering--to come. When it does, she throws up her arms and steps upon
tiptoe about three paces, looking exactly like a crane with a sore heel.
Making her legs into a pair of compasses, she describes a circle in the
air with one great toe upon a pivot formed with the other; then bending
down so that her very short petticoat makes a "cheese" upon the ground,
spreads out both arms to the _roués_ in the stalls, who understand the
signal, and cry "_Brava! brava!!_" Rising, she turns her back to display
her gauze _jupe élastique_, which is always exceedingly _bouffante_:
expectorating upon the stage as she retires. She thus makes way for her
lover, who, being her professional rival, she invariably detests.
It is singular that in private life the habits of the animal differ most
materially according to its sex. The male sometimes keeps an academy and a
kit fiddle, but the domestic relations of the female remain a profound
mystery; and although Professors Tom Duncombe, Count D'Orsay,
Chesterfield, and several other eminent Italian-operatic natural
historians, have spent immense fortunes in an ardent pursuit of knowledge
in this branch of science, they have as yet afforded the world but a small
modicum of information. Perhaps what they _have_ learned is not of a
nature to be made public.
_Moral Characteristics._--None.
_Reproduction._--The offspring of opera-dancers are not, as is sometimes
supposed, born with wings; the truth is that these cherubim are frequently
attached by their backs to copper wires, and made to represent flying
angels in fairy dramas; and those appendages, so far from being natural,
are supplied by the property-man, together with the wreaths of artificial
flowers which each Liliputian divinity upholds.
_Sustenance._--All opera-dancers are decidedly omnivorous. Their appetite
is immense; quantity and (for most of them come from France), not quality,
is what they chiefly desire. When not dining at their own expense, they
eat all they can, and pocket the rest. Indeed, a celebrated
sylphide--unsurpassed for the graceful airiness of her evolutions--has
been known to make the sunflower in the last scene bend with the
additional weight of a roast pig, an apple pie, and sixteen _omelettes
soufflées_--drink, including porter, in proportion. Various philosophers
have endeavoured to account for this extraordinary digestive capacity; but
some of their arguments are unworthy of the science they otherwise adorn.
For example, it has been said that the great exertions to which the dancer
is subject demand a corresponding amount of nutriment, and that the
copious transudation superinduced thereby requires proportionate supplies
of suction; while, in point of fact, if such theorists had studied their
subject a little closer, they would have found these unbounded appetites
accounted for upon the most simple and conclusive ground: it is clear
that, as most opera-dancers' lives are passed in a _pirouette_, they must
naturally have enormous twists!
_The geographical distribution of opera-dancers_ is extremely well
defined, as their names implies; for they most do congregate wherever an
opera-house exists. Some, however, descend to the non-lyric drama, and
condescend to "illustrate" the plays of Shakespeare. It is said that the
classical manager of Drury Lane Theatre has secured a company of them to
help the singers he has engaged to perform Richard the Third, Coriolanus,
and other historical plays.
* * * * *
Why has a clock always a bashful appearance?--Because it always keeps its
hands before its face.
* * * * *
KIDNAPPING EXTRAORDINARY.
The _Chronicle_ has been making a desperate attempt to come out in Punch's
line; he has absolutely been trying the "Too-too-tooit--tooit;" but has
made a most melancholy failure of it. We could forgive him his efforts to
be facetious (though we doubt that his readers will) if he had not
kidnapped three of our own particular pets--the very men who lived and
grew in the world's estimation on our wits; we mean Peter Borthwick, Ben
D'Israeli, and our own immortal Sibthorp. Of poor Sib. the joker of the
_Chronicle_ says in last Tuesday's paper--
"We regret to hear that Col. Sibthorp has suffered severely by cutting
himself in the act of shaving. His friends, however, will rejoice to learn
that his whiskers have escaped, and that he himself is going on
favourably."
We spent an entire night in endeavouring to discover where the wit lay in
this _cutting_ paragraph; but were obliged at last to give it up,
convinced that we might as well have made
[Illustration: AN ATTEMPT TO DISCOVER THE LONGITUDE.]
* * * * *
SONGS OF THE SEEDY.--No. V.
What am I? Mary, wherefore seek to know?
For mystery's the very soul of love.
Enough, that wedding thee I'm not below,
Enough, that wooing thee I'm not above.
You smile, dear girl, and look into my face
As if you'd read my history in my eye.
I'm not, sweet maid, a footman out of place,
For that position would, I own, be shy.
What am I then, you ask? Alas! 'tis clear,
You love not me, but what I have a year.
What am I, Mary! Well, then, must I tell,
And all my stern realities reveal?
Come close then to me, dearest, listen well,
While what I am no longer I conceal.
I serve my fellow-men, a glorious right;
Thanks for that smile, dear maid, I know 'tis due.
Yes, many have I served by day and night;
With me to aid them, none need vainly sue.
Nay, do not praise me, love, but nearer come,
That I may whisper, I'm a _bailiff's bum_.
Why start thus from me? am I then a thing
To be despised and cast aside by thee?
Oh! while to every one I fondly cling
And follow all, will no one follow me?
Oh! if it comes to this, dear girl, no more
Shalt thou have cause upon my suit to frown;
I'll serve no writs again; from me secure,
John Doe may run at leisure up and down,
Come to my arms, but do not weep the less,
Thou art the last I'll e'er take in distress.
* * * * *
A PAIR OF DUCKS.
"Pray, Sir Peter," said a brother Alderman to the City Laurie-ate the
other day, while discussing the merits of Galloway's plan for a viaduct
from Holborn-hill to Skinner-street, "Pray, Sir Peter, can you inform me
what is the difference between a viaduct and an aqueduct?" "Certainly,"
replied our "City Correspondent," with amazing condescension; "a
_via-duck_ is a land-duck, and an _aqua-duck_ is a water-duck!" The
querist confessed he had no idea before of the immensity of Sir Peter's
scientific knowledge.
* * * * *
PUNCH'S THEATRE.
MARGARET MAYFIELD; OR, THE MURDER OF THE LONE FARM-HOUSE.
[Illustration: P]Prodigious! The minor drama has exhausted its stock of
major crimes: parricide is out of date; infanticide has become from
constant occurrence decidedly low; homicide grows tame and uninteresting;
and fratricide is a mere bagatelle, not worthy of attention. The dramatist
must therefore awaken new sympathies by contriving new crimes--he must
invent. In this the Sadler's Wells genius has been fortunate. He has
brought forward a novelty in assassination, which is harrowing in the
extreme: it may be called _Farm-house-icide_! Just conceive the pitch of
intense sympathy it is possible for one to feel, while beholding "the
_murder_ of a lone farm-house!" Arson is nothing to it.
Out of this novel domiciliary catastrophe the author of "Margaret
Mayfield" has formed a melodrama, which in every other respect is founded,
like a chancellor's decree, upon precedent; it being a good old-fashioned,
cut-throat piece, of the leather-breeches-and-gaiter, plough-and-pitchfork
school. A country-inn parlour of course commences the story, where certain
characters assemble, who reveal enough of themselves and of the characters
assumed by their fellows (at that time amusing themselves in the
green-room), to let any person the least acquainted with the literature of
melodrama into the secret of the entire plot. There is the villain, who is
as usual in love with the heroine, and in league with three ill-looking
fellows sitting at a separate table. There too is the old-established
farmer, who has about him a considerable sum of money--a fact he mentions
for the information of his pot-companions, on purpose to be robbed of it.
The low comedian as usual disports himself upon a three-legged stool,
dressed in the never-to-be-worn-out short _non_-continuations, skirtless
coat, and "eccentric" tile.
A scene or two afterwards, and we are surprised to find that the farmer is
safely housed, and that he has not been robbed upon a bleak moor on a dark
stage. But we soon feel a sensation of awe, when we learn that before us
is the interior of the very farm-house that is going to be murdered. The
farmer and his wife go through the long-standing dialogue of
stage-stereotype, about love and virtue, the price of turnips, and their
only child; and the husband goes to some fair with a friend, who had just
been rejected by his sister-in-law in favour of the villain. The coast
being left clear, the villain and his accomplices enter, and we know
something dreadful is going to happen, for the farmer's wife is gone out
of the way on purpose not to interrupt. The villain draws a knife and
drags his sweetheart into an out-house, and then the wife comes on to
describe what is passing; for the audiences of Sadler's Wells would tear
up the benches if they dared to murder out of sight, without being told
what is going on. Accordingly, we hear a scream, and the sister of the
screamer exclaims,--"Ah, horror! He draws the knife across her throat!
(Great applause.) But no; she takes up a broken ploughshare and escapes!
(A slight tendency to hiss.) Now he seizes her hair, he throws her down.
Ah! see how the blood streams from her----." (Intense delight as the woman
falls flat upon the boards, supposed to be overcome with dread.) A bloody
knife, of course, next enters, grasped by the villain; who, as usual,
remarks he is sorry for what has happened, but it can't be helped, and
must be made the best of. The woman having suddenly recovered, escapes
into an additional private box, or trunk, placed on the stage for that
purpose; stating that she will see what is going on from between the
cracks. The villain then murders the child, and walks off with his hands
in his pocket; leaving, as is always the case, the fatal knife in a most
conspicuous part of the stage, which for some seconds it has all to
itself. The farmer comes in, takes up the knife, and falls down in a fit,
just in time for the constables to come in and to take him up for the
murder. The wife jumps out of the box, and by her assistance a tableau is
formed for the act-drop to fall to.
Our readers, of course, guess the rest. The farmer is condemned to be
hanged; and in the last scene he is one of the never-omitted procession to
the gallows. At the cue, "Now then, I am ready to meet my fate like a
man," the screech in that case always made and provided is heard at a
distance. "Hold! hold! he is innocent!" are the next words; and enter the
wife with a pair of pistols, and a witness. The executioner pardons the
condemned on his own responsibility; and the villain comes on, on purpose
to be shot, which is done by the farmer, who seems determined not to be
accused of murder for nothing.
To these charming series of murders we may add that of the Queen's
English, which was shockingly maltreated, without the least remorse or
mitigation.
* * * * *
THE TWO LAST IMPORTANT SITTINGS.
Mr. Ross has had the last sitting of the Princess Royal for her portrait,
and the Tories the last sitting of Mr. Walter for Nottingham.
* * * * *
SIBTHORPIAN PROBLEMS.
Colonel Sibthorp presents his compliments to his dear friend and fellow,
PUNCH, and seeing in the _Times_ of Wednesday last a long account of the
extraordinary arithmetical powers of a new calculating machine, invented
by Mr. Wertheimber, he is desirous of asking the inventor, through the
ubiquitous pages of PUNCH, whether his, Mr. W.'s apparatus--which, as his
friend George Robins would say, is a lot which seems to be worthy only of
the great Bidder--(he thinks he had him there)--whether this automatical
American, or steam calculator, could solve for him the following
queries:--
If the House of Commons be divided by Colonel Sibthorp on the Corn Laws,
how much will it add to his credit?
How many times will a joke of Colonel Sibthorp's go into the London
newspapers?
Extract the root of Mr. Roebuck's family tree, and say whether it would
come out in anything but vulgar fractions.
Required the difference between political and imperial measures, and state
whether the former belong to dry or superficial.
If thirty-six be six square, what is St. James's-square?--and if the first
circles be resident there, say whether this may not be considered as an
approximation to the quadrature of the circle.
State the _contents_ of the House of Commons upon the next motion of Sir
Robert Peel, and whether the malcontents will be greater or less.
Required the capacities in feet between a biped, a quadruped, and a
centipede, and say whether the foot of Mr. Joseph Hume, being just as
broad as it is long, may not be considered as a square foot.
Express, in harmonious numbers, the proportion between the rhyme and the
reason of Mr. Benjamin D'Israeli's revolutionary epic, and say whether
this is not a question of _inverse_ ratio.
Whether, in political progression, the two extremes, Duke of Newcastle and
Feargus O'Connor, are equal to the mean Joseph Hume.
Is it possible to multiply the difficulties of the Whigs, and, if so, am I
the figure for the part?
What is the difference between the squares of Messrs. Tom Spring and John
Gully, and whether the one is the fourth, fifth, or what power of the
other?
* * * * *
A SLAP AT JOHN CHINAMAN'S CHOPS.
Peter Borthwick lately arrived at the highest possible pressure of
indignation, while reading some of the insolent fulminations from the
Celestial Empire. But Peter was sorely at a loss to account for their
singular names: he was instantly enlightened by the Finsbury interpreter,
our Tom Duncombe, who rendered the matter clear by asserting it was
because the Emperor was very partial to a
[Illustration: CHOP WITH CHINESE SAUCE.]
* * * * *
HUME LEEDS--WAKLEY FOLLOWS.
Joe Hume has written over to Wakley (postage unpaid) begging of him to
take warning by his beating at Leeds; as he much fears, should Mr. Wakley
continue his present line of conduct, when he next presents himself to his
Finsbury constituents there is great probability of
[Illustration: FOLLOWING IN THE BEATEN TRACK.]
* * * * *
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
1, October 23, 1841, by Various
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