Tom, Tom the Pipers' son,
Stole a Pig, and away he run;
The Pig was eat, and TOM was beat.
And TOM went roaring down the street.
The above verse immortalizes an event that caused great excitement in
the period in which it occurred, although at the present date it would
not be considered of much account, or cause the smallest ripple on the
glassy calm of our most, sleepy village.
We have progressed beyond being stirred by any little peccadillo such as
the theft of a pig or a sheep, or even a watch or a purse, unless it
contains a large amount, and was taken under the most aggravating
circumstances from ourselves.
A robbery of a bank of a million, when it happens to affect hundreds of
people, or a midnight murder executed with the malignancy of a fiend,
will sometimes stir up the public for a few days, but even that soon
passes out of mind, and society settles back into its imperturbable
apathy, retreating with each wave of excitement still further, and
becoming by degrees proof against being stirred by anything that does
not affect ourselves personally.
Not so, however, in those days of Arcadian simplicity; for the
astounding temerity of the Piper's son, in laying felonious hands on the
property of the village butcher, or baker, caused an excitement second
only to a hanging, or a first-class sensational horror, of later days.
Poor TOM was a deal to be pitied as well as blamed; for although he was
the one who committed the crime, he was not the only one who reaped a
benefit therefrom. But the traditional historian tells us, he was the
only one who was punished therefor; so, while we blame him, let us shed
a tear of sympathy because he alone got the beating, the others the
eating. The scene is graphically described thusly--
"Tom, Tom the Piper's son,
Stole a pig, and away he run."
Here we see Tom, the good-for-nothing, standing idly around, listening
to the witching strains of his father's bagpipe, played by the
industrious musician before the doors of the well-to-do villagers, with
the laudable view of obtaining the wherewith to purchase the meat that
both might eat; and while the instrument that has well served its day
and generation is groaning and wheezing under the pressure brought to
bear upon it, TOM'S eyes, roving around from window to door, happen to
light on a beautiful sucking-pig, that reposes in all the innocent
beauty of baby pighood before the open door of a zealous stickler for
human rights.
Alas! TOM is not acquainted with the gentlemanly owner of the
fascinating pig, and he doesn't know how strong his principles are, nor
how far he will go to maintain them.
He gazes enraptured upon the dainty porker, and as he looks, the desire
to own just such a one grows upon him, and soon it becomes a
determination to own that identical one, for never another could equal
that. He looks stealthily around and finds the eyes of all are fixed
upon the musician and his bagpipe. No one notices him, and hailing it as
a happy omen, he pounces upon the coveted quadruped, grasps it tightly
in his hands, and skedaddles.
The music is ended and the crowd disperses. The absence of piggy is
unnoticed till the red-headed urchin whose playmate it is looks around
for the loved companion, of his childish sports, and finds it not. Great
research, amid loud outcries, is made, resulting only in the conviction
that the pet of the family is gone, leaving no trace behind.
TOM, with his prize, exultingly hurries homeward, his heart swelling
with joy at his luck. Like a dutiful son, he rushes to the arms of his
maternal parent and deposits in her capacious lap the dainty prize.
Visions of a luscious supper float through the mind of the female
piperess, as she bestows her motherly benediction upon her thoughtful
son, and proceeds to put into execution the well-conned lesson of
cooking a sucking pig.
Having accomplished the "First get your pig" part, the rest comes easy;
and at night, when the old Piper returns, his olfactories are sainted
with an odor that startles him from his generally despondent mood, and
awakens his curiosity as to the cause of such an unusual flavor from his
usually flavorless abode. He enters and finds a smiling wife and son,
with a smoking pig awaiting his coming. "What next occurred the Poet
tells us in the laconic words
"The pig was eat."
There was no necessity for describing the way of eating; the fact was
enough. But alas! there is always a dark side to everything, and this
happy family were no exception, The bones were left. They couldn't eat
them, and they didn't own a dog; so they picked them clean and threw
them away. But, "Murder will out," and the tiny bones told their own
tale. The village detective soon coupled the feet of the missing pig
with the unusual occurrence of a heap of bones before the door of the
musician's abode, and by a process of reasoning unknown to the
detectives of the present day, decided that those bones were a pig's
bones--a stolen pig's bones, from the fact that the Piper did not earn
enough to indulge in such luxuries as sucking-pigs. Now who stole the
sucking-pig?
Clearly not Madame Piper, for she was too fat and heavy to have any
light-fingered proclivities.
Clearly not the Piper himself, for he was playing his bagpipe and could
prove an alibi.
There was no one left but TOM. Circumstances pointed him out: he loved
good eating and hated work, and had been noticed gazing upon the charms
of the missing family pet. It was settled, then. TOM was the thief, and
the offender must be punished. But how? Law was too uncertain and
expensive, TOM was too poor to pay for the pig, so it was resolved to
take the worth of it out of him by beating. The poet tells us
"TOM was beat."
Undoubtedly TOM was glad when they got through, and although he
"Went roaring down the street,"
it was a matter of rejoicing with him that he had saved his bacon. It
was impossible to get that out through his hide, and they had no stomach
pumps in those days.
* * * * *
Scene.--A. City Restaurant.
_Waiter, (to customer, who is winding up his repast_.) "Anything more,
sir?"
_Customer_. "H'm--well--yes; bring me an omelette souffle."
_Waiter_. "Omelet Shoo-fly, sir? Yessir."
(_Exit, humming the popular tune_.)
* * * * *
Unintentionally Appropriate.
The Sun tells a very large story of its own circulation, and then
innocently requests the "False Reporting" _Tribune_ to copy it!
* * * * *
BY GEORGE!
(_Continued_.)
LAKE GEORGE, Sept 5.
DEAR PUNCHINELLO:--In my last I promised to finish my trip on the Lake
and give you some reliable rumors about the "Rogers' Slide."
I am prepared to do this to-day, in a happy and congratulatory frame of
mind.
I have had breakfast this morning.
When I say this I mean that I have had this morning's breakfast this
morning.
Any one who has achieved so remarkable a success, at this place, can
safely plume himself on his patience and physical endurance.
For instance, this morning, for the first time, I ordered broiled Spring
Chicken.
The waiter gave me a disconsolate look and proceeded to gird up his
loins with a base ball belt.
In a few moments he dashed past the window in hot pursuit of a fowl of
venerable appearance, but of a style of going that would have put to
shame any ostrich that Dr. LIVINGSTONE ever saw.
I asked the head waiter if he called that a _Spring Chicken_?
He said he guessed that chicken could out-Spring any chicken in the
place.
This clears up another great hotel mystery.
The man outflanked this gentle birdling on the eighth time round, in
6.23, which is considered very good indeed, and beats the time of the
late Harvard and Yale "Foul" considerably.
I say "outflanked," because it is not the intention of these sunny
Amendments to put an end to these feathery Dexters immediately, but to
drive them into the ten-pin alley, where they are leisurely bowled to an
untimely end. As, however, pony balls are generally used, and there are
always half a dozen darkies standing around ready to bet that the
chicken won't be killed in forty balls, or sixty, as the case may be,
this part of the process is rather tedious to the guest
Sometimes, when the chicken is not very active, there are not more than
nine or ten-pin feathers left.
Well, the next place the boat stopped at is called "Sabbath Day Point,"
in consequence of ABERCROMBIE having landed there on a Wednesday
morning.
Its name will therefore be considered a joke by such as see the Point.
A gentleman on board informed me that the water was so clear at this
place that one could "see objects when thirty feet from the bottom."
I have thought and thought over this remark, but am unable to see what
one's distance from the bottom has to do with his "seeing objects."
I give it up.
On the opposite side of the Lake is a hill called "Sugar Loaf
Mountain"--because it is a sweet place for loafers, I suppose.
Finally we passed "Rogers' Slide," which is a rocky precipice three
hundred feet high, sloping nearly perpendicularly into the water. A
decidedly unpleasant-looking place for cellar-door practice.
There are a great many romantic traditions about this same ROGERS, who
is regarded by the simple natives as having been an altogether
high-minded and gorgeous character--the fact being that he was one of
those unmitigated old scamps who owe to the accident of having lived in
Revolutionary times, the distinction of being held up to the emulation
of primary schools as a "Patriot Hero." Literally he was simply an
"unmixed evil," fighting only to steal something, and devoting what time
and talent he could spare from his legitimate profession--which was
_seven-up_--to generally bedevilling and encroaching upon the
neighboring Indians.
As an enchroachist he was immense.
The noble red-skins alluded to finally concluded that enough was enough,
and appointed a Special Commission to put a permanent end to the
delicate attentions of the "Marked Back."
This _sobriquet_ they conferred upon him partly on account of the fact
that he usually received his wounds while leaving their immediate
vicinity, and partly because of a peculiar characteristic of the kind of
cards he used.
The Commissioners caught ROGERS out hunting, and chased him until he
came to this precipice, down which he slid into the Lake below, and,
unfortunately, escaped unharmed.
The Indians, who were pursuing him by the imprints of his snow-shoes,
soon arrived at the brink. Seeing what had occurred, they concluded to
"let him slide."
Hence the name.
Evidently they thought, from the trail, that he must have gone over.
Though he was by no means a missionary, the Tracks he had left produced
a profound impression on their untutored minds.
They at once concluded that he was drowned, or had got "in with" some
bad spirits.
It is obvious, however, to the most casual observer of the place, that
the reverse must have been the case. The bad spirits were in him.
The mark worn by Mr. R's "cheviots" in his descent can still be
distinctly seen.
About half way up is a shining object which is generally believed to be
a suspender button.
This, however, is merely conjectural.
The clerk of the boat, of whom I have spoken before, tells me that until
within a few years back, the hole in the water where ROGERS struck could
be seen.
"But it is all gone now," he said, shaking his head sadly. "Nothing can
escape the Vandal horde of tourists and relic hunters. Piece by piece
they have carried the hole away, and there is no trace of it left now."
And he "wept at my tranquillity."
At the north end of the Lake we took stages for Fort Ticonderoga. These
vehicles were run by a man who was pointed out as a "character," which
means a sort of licensed nuisance.
The monomania of this individual was speech making, and much reflection
inclines me to the belief that he is some unappreciated politician who
has invented a way of "taking it out" on the unhappy public as follows:
He waits until his five immense stages arrive at some remote and
solitary part of the road, then draws them up in a semi-circle, mounts a
stump, and--on pretence of exhibiting the beauties of nature--proceeds
to harangue the helpless fares to the top of his very high bent, or
until one of the slumbering "outsides" creates a welcome diversion by
falling off and breaking his neck.
We came to what was really a curiosity--two kinds of trees growing from
one trunk, which this concentration of bores, this _mitrailleuse_, in
fact, improved accordingly.
"Here, Ladies and Gentlemen, you per-ceive one of the _re_-markable and
_pe_-culiar works of a benign _Per_-rovidence. On the right you see the
sturdy and iron-hearted oak, while on the left you behold the modest and
_be_-utiful ellum. What Having has joined together let no man put
asunder--gerlang with yer hosses!"
It must have been a Sunday-school Superintendent who invented excursions
to Fort Ty.
It is not a place to Tye to.
One old gentleman pointed to an underground hole and advised me to go
and look at the magazine.
I went; but it is hardly necessary to say that I didn't find any, and,
on the whole, I was glad of it If people don't know any more than to
leave their _Galaxys_ and _Harper's_ lying around loose when travelling,
why, they deserve to have them stolen, that's all.
I was sorry for the old gentleman, but if there is anything that
disgusts me, it is to meet people that ain't posted about things.
As the steamer neared the Hotel, on our return, the departing sun was
flinging back his last good-night smile on the lovely scene below, and
the musical chime of the little church at Caldwell came stealing sweetly
over the bosom of the placid Lake. As its fairy-like sounds reached our
ears, a melancholy-looking man with long hair, who sat near, started,
smiled, and turning to me, said:
"Did I ever tell you that story about SLUKER?"
As I had never seen the party before, I replied that if he had I had
forgotten it.
"SLUKER," he repeated, gazing absently at the distant spire; "SLUKER,"
he reiterated, rubbing his nose abstractedly with the handle of his
umbrella; "SLUKER," he continued--
--in my next, my dear PUNCHINELLO, in my next.
SAGINAW DODD.
[_To be continued_.]
* * * * *
Sauce
There can be no doubt that Grévy is in the right place, as a member of
the Provisional government of France.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Old Gent_. "Don't scatter water on my feet, man,--do you
suppose I want 'em to grow any bigger?"]
* * * * *
EDUCATION FOR DETECTIVES.
Although our Metropolitan Detectives have hitherto failed to solve the
mystery in which certain atrocious murders remain shrouded, yet it would
be simply captious to impeach them, on that account, for lack of
sagacity, zeal, courage, or any of the numerous other qualities that go
to the making up of an efficient "Hawkshaw."
That they are not deficient in zeal, at least, is manifest from a
circumstance which took place a short time since. Counterfeiting had
been carried on to a great extent in the city. The rashness of
counterfeiters is proverbial, and they usually carry on their operations
immediately under the nasal protuberance of the law. Nevertheless, in
the case under notice, some vigilant detective, with a nose as sharp as
that of a Spitz-dog, obtained a clue to the arrangements of the
counterfeiters. Having informed some of his associates, a concerted
descent was made by the party upon a house in one of the lower streets
of the city. A portion of the house is, and has been for years past,
occupied by several artists connected with the illustrated press. Few
gentlemen are better known in large circles than these artists, none
more highly appreciated by hosts of friends. But duty is duty--often
stern, but never to be shirked; and so the faithful detectives inserted
their Spitz-dog noses between the joints of the artists' doors, and,
having smelt a very large rat, suddenly burst in upon these graphic
malefactors, and caught them in the act, with all the tools and
paraphernalia of their nefarious occupation scattered about their vile
den.
Most of them were engaged in executing drawings upon blocks of wood,
although it is probable that some of them were smoking pipes--tobacco
being vastly conducive to that concentration of thought by which alone
great mental efforts can be followed by equivalent results. Short work
was made by the sagacious detectives, when they saw the graphic
malefactors engaged in their diabolical toil. Some of the officers
seized the implements of the gang, while others collared the
delinquents, and marched them through the streets to the nearest police
station, where they were thrust into a dungeon and locked up for the
night.
Next morning, on being taken before a magistrate, the prisoners were
discharged, on the grounds that the affair was a mistake--or a joke--we
are not exactly informed which; but the parties chiefly interested do
not look upon it as a joke.
Now it is a very clear case that the mistake in question--or joke--may
be traced to a deficiency of education on the part of these vigilant and
zealous detectives. Had they been properly cultivated in the various
branches of art, the slight blunder to which we refer could not have
occurred. The Spitz-dog noses, instead of smelling Rat, would have smelt
its anagram, Art. Its influence would at once have been acknowledged by
them, and they would have backed out from the August Presence with
obsequious genuflexions. It becomes a question of moment, then, whether
a course of lectures upon art should not henceforth be considered an
indispensable branch of the education of our excellent detectives. We
would not limit the proposed extension of their education, however, to
the study of art, alone. Botany should be insisted on as a necessary
accession to the stock of the detectives' learning; and especially would
we have them instructed in a full knowledge of the leguminous
vegetables--such as beans.
* * * * *
Temporary Obscuration of the "Hub."
Boston already has the biggest church- organ in all Creation. She also
has the most public Public Garden of modern times. Last year she had the
loudest Musical Jubilee ever organized, and it is further to be noted
that she is the proud possessor of the most uncommon of Commons. Early
in October, however, all these cherished immensities of Boston must fall
into insignificance and "feel small." On the second day of that month,
Colonel FISK is to make his triumphant entry into Boston, at the head of
the gallant Ninth. Organ, Jubilee, Public Garden, Big Drum, Common--all,
all of these will then have to subside and fade away into thin air
before the stately presence of the Prince of Erie and his valiant
command.
* * * * *
Boy and Man.
"Miss ANNIE P. LADD, of Augusta, Me., has been appointed by the governor
and confirmed by the council as a justice of the peace."
To be a man and magistrate
'Twas natural that ANNIE sighed,
Since she one phase of man's estate
Already as a LADD had tried.
* * * * *
A Nut for the Ladies' Club.
Referring to the recent ladies' boat race at Harlem, a reporter says
that "the girls all rowed badly." This is a discouraging comment on the
frantic efforts now making by women to assume man's attributes, (not to
mention his other "butes" and the what-d'ye-call-'ems generally
associated with them,) and it is a very significant fact that the
comment can be tersely clinched by the words So rows Sis.
* * * * *
NEW PUBLICATIONS.
Among the numerous portraits of the late CHARLES DICKENS now before the
public, none are likely to be more popular than one in chromograph
lately issued by PRANG & Co., of Boston and New York. It represents the
great and genial writer as some few years younger than he was when he
last visited this country. The expression of the face is one of
thought--rather as he might have appeared when meditating over some new
turn to be given to the thread of a narrative, than as he used to look
when reading to an audience. This picture is printed in two or three
simple tints, of which the flesh tint is the most predominant. It is set
in an oval passe-partout, and requires only a glass over it to fit it
for placing on a wall.
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| |
| A. T. Stewart & Co. |
| |
| Have just received several Cases |
| |
| PARIS MADE SILK AND POPLIN |
| |
| Street and Evening |
| |
| DRESSES, |
| |
| Two cases Cloth and Velvet Pattern |
| |
| Sacques, Cloaks, &c., |
| |
| An opening of |
| |
| HANDSOME TRIMMED HATS, |
| |
| Latest Paris Style. Also, |
| |
| Children's and Misses' Undergarments, |
| Infants' Outfits, etc., etc. |
| |
| Several Cases Real India |
| Camel's-Hair Shawls, |
| |
| At unusually attractive prices. |
| |
| Embroideries, Laces, Real Lace and LLama |
| Pointes, Dresses, &c. |
| |
| WEDDING TROUSSEAUX. |
| |
| The above forms only a very small portion of their |
| Large and Attractive Stock of |
| |
| ELEGANT GOODS, |
| |
| Imported and Domestic Made. |
| |
| Offered at |
| |
| BROADWAY, |
| |
| 4th Avenue, 9th and 10th Streets. |
| |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| |
| A. T. Stewart & Co. |
| |
| Offer the largest, richest, and cheapest stock of |
| |
| DRESS GOODS, |
| |
| That has ever been Offered in this City, |
| |
| Comprising many Novelties in |
| |
| Poplins, Armures Cloths, Epinglines, Extra |
| |
| Quality Merinos, Ladies' Cloths, &c., &c. |
| |
| A Large Line of |
| |
| DOMESTIC SHIRTINGS, SHEETINGS, |
| BLANKETS, FLANNELS, |
| |
| And every Variety of |
| |
| HOUSEKEEPING GOODS. |
| |
| BROADWAY, |
| |
| 4th Avenue, 9th and 10th Streets. |
| |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| |
| EXTRAORDINARY BARGAINS |
| |
| IN |
| CARPETS. |
| |
| Five Frame |
| ENGLISH BRUSSELS, |
| Reduced to $1.75 per yard. |
| |
| 200 Pieces Five-Frame |
| |
| English Brussels, |
| |
| Greater part Confined Styles, Reduced to $2 per yard. |
| |
| Very Best Quality |
| |
| ENGLISH TAPESTRY BRUSSELS |
| |
| $1.30 per yard. |
| |
| FRENCH MOQUETTES |
| |
| AND |
| |
| AXMINSTERS, |
| |
| $3.50 and $4 per yard. |
| |
| ROYAL WILTONS, |
| |
| Best Quality, $2.50 and $3 per yard. |
| |
| CROSSLEY'S VELVETS, |
| |
| Choice Designs, $2.50 per yard. |
| |
| Superfine Ingrains, 3-Plys. |
| |
| English and Domestic |
| |
| OILCLOTHS, RUGS, |
| |
| MATS, ETC., |
| |
| At Extremely Low Prices. |
| |
| A. T. STEWART & CO. |
| |
| BROADWAY, |
| |
| 4TH AVE., 9TH AND 10TH STREETS. |
| |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| |
| PUNCHINELLO. |
| |
| The first number of this Illustrated Humorous and Satirical |
| Weekly Paper was issued under date of April 2, 1870. The |
| Press and the Public in every State and Territory of the |
| Union endorse it as the best paper of the kind ever |
| published in America. |
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| CONTENTS ENTIRELY ORIGINAL. |
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| Subscription for one year, (with $2.00 premium,) $4.00 |
| " " six months, (without premium,) 2.00 |
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| Single copies mailed free, for .10 |
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| CHROMOS for subscriptions as follows: |
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| Size 8-3/8 by 11-1/8 ($2.00 picture,)--for $4.00 |
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+--------------------------------------------------------------+
[Illustration: FEEDING SPARROWS.
A HINT TO A CERTAIN CLASS OF "HUMANITARIANS"]
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| |
| "The Printing House of the United States." |
| |
| GEO. F. NESBITT & CO., |
| |
| General JOB PRINTERS, |
| BLANK BOOK Manufacturers, |
| STATIONERS. Wholesale and Retail. |
| LITHOGRAPHIC Engravers and Printers. |
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| ADVANTAGES.--All at the same premises, and under |
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+--------------------------------------------------------------+
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| prepared |
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| COMBINATION EXCURSION or Round Trip Tickets, |
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| Valid during the the entire season, and embracing |
| Ithaca--headwaters of Cayuga Lake--Niagara Falls, Lake |
| Ontario, the River St. Lawrence, Montreal, Quebec, Lake |
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| all principal points of interest in Northern New York, the |
| Canadas, and New England. Also similar Tickets at reduced |
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| Nos. 241, 529, and 957 Broadway; 205 Chambers St.; 33 |
| Greenwich St.; cor. 125th St. and Third Avenue, Harlem; 338 |
| Fulton St., Brooklyn; Depots foot of Chambers Street, and |
| foot of 23rd St., New York; No. 3 Exchange Place, and Long |
| Dock Depot, Jersey City, and the Agents at the principal |
| hotels, travelers can obtain just the Ticket they desire, as |
| well as all the necessary information. |
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| PRANG'S LATEST PUBLICATIONS: "Wild Flowers," "Water-Lilies," |
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| ILLUSTRATED HUMOROUS AND SATIRICAL |
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| THE MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD. |
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| The New Burlesque Serial, |
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| Written expressly for PUNCHINELLO, |
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| BY |
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| OEPHEUS C. KERR, |
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| Commenced in No. 11, will be continued weekly throughout the |
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| A sketch of the eminent author, written by his bosom friend, |
| with superb illustrations of |
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| 1ST. THE AUTHOR'S PALATIAL RESIDENCE AT BEGAD'S HILL, |
| TICKNOR'S FIELDS, NEW JERSEY |
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| 2D. THE AUTHOR AT THE DOOR OF SAID PALATIAL RESIDENCE, taken |
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