PELLEAS then, when all the flies were gone, Sat faithful on his horse,
upon the lawn That skirts the castle moat; and thought the dame, For
want of pluck, could never give him blame. He sat a week. She grew so
blazing mad, She raved, and called three other knights she had; And
cried, "That fool will drive me wild, I fear! Go bind his hands, and
walk him Spanish here." And when the idiot heard her, he did grin And
smirk, and let them walk him Spanish in. Then, railing vile, that he
might take offence, She, sneering, asked him would he ne'er go hence;
[Illustration]
And cursed him till her face grew crimson red. Like cats of Cheshire
then he grinned, and said:
"Sent by thy train and thee to Coventry, I hung with grooms and porters
on the bridge; Watched by thy three tall squires. And there I shaped An
ancient willow's sapling into this."
And handed her a whistle. "Kick him out!" She yelled; and the knights,
laughing, took the lout, And thrust him from the gate. A week from this,
Looking without, she saw his simple phiz; And cried "Go kill him! Stick
him like a pig! You three can do it, if he is so big!" Unwilling, yet
the knights went out to try, And light-of-love GAWAIN came riding by.
"What ho!" he cried, "I'm in, if that fight's free; So here I come-ye
knavish cowards three!" "For me," PELLEAS cried, "the fight she means,"
And charging, knocked them into smithereens. Now called she other
knights, and cried out, "Once Again go bind and bring me here that
dunce!" And when he heard, he let himself be bound,
And o'er the bridge they kicked him like a hound. When she had sneered
her sneeriest, then she said, "Turn him out bound!" He lifted up his
head,
"You ask me why, tho' ill at ease
Within this region I subsist?"
"I did," she said, "but pray desist
From further quoting, if you please."
When forth PELLEAS came, his hands all tied, The brave GAWAIN, he
bounded to his side, And loosed his bonds and said, "Look here, good
friend, This sort of thing had better have an end. Just you go home, and
take a Turkish bath, And I will cure this lady of her wrath. Give me
your horse and shield. Take mine, I'll say I've killed you, stiffly
dead, in mortal fray. Then she will straight repent; your death will
rue, And while her heart is soft, I'll send for you."
This nincum-fubby-diddle-boodle, he Went home, and did not GAWATN'S
laughter see! He waited till the moon, after three days, Gave promise of
large lights on woods and ways, And then he hastened to ETTABBE'S gate.
He found it open, and he did not wait to be announced, but hastened,
full of hope, To where her tent stood on the garden slope. He knew she
slept the roses all among, And as he softly stepped, he softly sung:
"I am coming, my own, my sweet!
Were it ever so airy a tread,
Thy heart would hear me and beat,
Were it earth in an earthly bed.
Thy dust would hear me and beat,
Hads't thou lain for a century dead,
Would start and tremble under my feet--
And just then he saw GAWAIN'S head! With one wild bound toward the
dark'ning skies, From out the garden gates he madly flies. But soon his
mind it alters. Slipping back, His tune he changes--trying this new
tack:"Howe'er it be, it seems to me
'Tis only noble to be good;
Kind hearts are more than coronets,
And simple faith, than Norman blood.
O lady! You may veer and veer,
A great enchantress you may be,
But there'll be that across your throat,
Which you would scarcely care to see."
Then he, while sleep of senses them bereft, Soft thrust his lance
through both their necks--and left. The cold touch in her throat she
felt, and woke. She knew the lance, and to GAWAIN she spoke. "Liar!" she
said. "That man you have not slain. Let's both clear out! He may come
back again!"
(_To be Continued._)
OUR PORTFOLIO.
That most gay, gallant and airy body of horsemen known as the "Brooklyn
Dutch Light Cavalry," are much indebted to the projectors of the
Knightly meeting which took place recently at Prospect Park, for an
opportunity to display those equestrian graces which a few cross-grained
critics have been disposed to deny them. The general public never had
any doubts upon the subject, but it is well enough to silence those who
took much credit to themselves in detecting faults where others could
not discover them. The result shows how completely such mendacity can be
exposed. Of the numerous prizes awarded, two-thirds fell to the members
of Brooklyn's Teutonic Cavalry. They were especially admired for the
firmness with which they kept their saddles, under circumstances enough
to unhorse a Centaur. We noted, particularly, one cavalier, known in
the lists as the Knight of RUDESHEIMER. He keeps a pork store in Fulton
Avenue, and turned a Fairbanks Scale, but two days before the tourney,
at 275 lbs. This gallant rode a very sprightly steed, which struggled
under the double calamity of being slightly spavined and quite blind in
the left eye. One of the effects of the latter misfortune was to keep
the animal constantly in the belief that somebody meditated foul play
upon its unguarded flank, and at the slightest stir in the crowd it
would wheel violently around, to the great consternation its rider,
and the evident alarm of contiguous Knights. PUNCHINELLO, who was very
conspicuous in the throng, and was mounted upon a highly mettled Ukraine
steed, observed the cavorting of the Knight of RUDESHEIMER, and cantered
gaily towards him. In attempting to pass, his spur touched the side of
the blind steed,--which kicked at PUNCHINELLO'S fiery Ukraine in a very
ungracious manner. Our animal would take a kick from no other animal
calmly, and so, without waiting to weigh consequences, it gave
RUDESHEIMER'S Rosinante a severe "chuck" in the ribs with its hind feet.
In an instant horse and rider were spinning around like a top. A space
was immediately cleared, and the crowd awaited in breathless silence
the fate of the Knight. His swayings were fearful, until PUNCHINELLO,
anticipating an apoplectic fit from such a terrific revolution, dashed
in, and seizing the frightened steed by the bridle, brought him to
bay. The Knight's face was livid with rage and, instead of thanking
PUNCHINELLO, he roared at the pitch of his voice.
"Dunder und blitzen! Du bist ein tam phool. Vat for you not sees I ish
tied to mein saddle?"
The pride of horsemanship could go no further, and so PUNCHINELLO left.
SONG OF THE RED CLOUD.
[Supposed to have been uttered on the occasion of a conference of
Savages at Washington with a view to the settlement of our Indian
difficulties.]
How! Call all my chiefs together--
Makpialutah, Red Cloud wants 'em:
Shunkalutah, him the Red Dog;
Brave Bear, Montaohetekah;
Setting Bear, Maktohutakah;
Rock Bear, Live Bear, Long Bear, Short Bear,
Little Bear, Yellow Bear, and Bear Skin,
Keyalutah, Red Fly--Shoo Fly!
Dahsanowee, White Cow Rattler,
Pahgee, Shunkmonetoohakah,
Shatonsapah, Maktohashena,
Kokepah, Ocklehelutah,
Newakohnkechaksaheuntah,
Whoop! haloo! Yahoo! Halooooooooo!
(Sudden rush of warriors on all sides with war-whoop, flourish of
tomahawks, and inexplicable dumb show.]
Ugh! What now would have the White Man?
Sell he swindle, rum, fire-water,
We will sell him Fear in plenty.
What would have Great Cloud, our father,
He the Smoke-nose, he the Big Fish?
They not cheat us, we not murder.
Pale-faces like the leaves of forests:
Many squaws with paint and feathers--
None like Makochawyuntaker,
The World-looker, wife of Black Hawk.
Much skull, but few scalp in Congress.
Talk much--very great tongue-warriors.
Tomahawk could end the tongue-fight.
Hrumph! I like not these pale-faces,
Makpialutah mourns for battle,
Red Cloud thirsts for blood of Pawnees,
Red Cloud cries for scalp of white men,
Red Cloud angers the Great Spirit,
Red Cloud trembles for the War Dance!
Ugh! Hrumph! How! Whoop, whoop, haloooooo!
[The Conference of Chiefs, after an uproar of shrill and guttural
sounds, break: up with the favorite can-can of the Sioux.]
A Pleasant Prospect.
The Massachusetts editors, who are shortly to meet in convention at
Boston, are threatened with three distressing courtesies, viz: a concert
on the Big Organ, a visit to the School Ship, and a banquet in Fanuil
Hall. They have our sincerest condolences.
[Illustration: TREPIDATION.
FRANK PAYS A VISIT OF CONDOLENCE TO HIS FRIEND, WHO IS ILL WITH
RELAPSING FEVER.]
[Illustration: FUMIGATION.
THEN HE THINKS HIS HAIR SHOULD BE FUMIGATED, AND SUBSEQUENTLY HE HAS TO
BE EXTINGUISHED.] [Illustration: MARRIAGE A LA MODE. (NOT BY HOGARTH.)
_Clergyman_. "Do You TAKE THIS MAN TO LOVE, HONOR, AND AGREE WITH
UNTIL--YOU SEE ANOTHER MAN YOU LIKE BETTER?"]
MY COUP D'ETAT.
Mr. PUNCHINELLO: For sometime--I would not like to say how long--the
undersigned has been a candidate for the office of Whiskey Inspector for
the Judasville district of his State. I have had powerful backing from
the scrap-iron members of Congress from my section, but their efforts
and my own have long seemed of little avail. The other day, however,
I saw in the papers the account of the _coup d'etat_ of the DUKE OF
SALDANHA, in Portugal. An idea immediately entered my brain. These
_effète_ monarchies, these governments of the past, on which "the rust
of ages," as VICTOR HUGO remarks, "lies like a bloody snow of bygone
vassalage," have yet sufficient vitality to teach a lesson to the young
and vigorous governments of the West. At any rate this old duke taught
me a lesson, and I did my best to hurry off and say it. It was evident
that if I wanted to be Whiskey Inspector of Judasville, (and I am
justified in saying that no man in the district possesses more peculiar
qualifications for the post,) that something in the SALDANHA style
must be done. The time had passed for petitions and lobbying. I went
immediately to the commander of the Judasville Rifles, and enlisted his
sympathies in my cause. He willingly placed his company at my service,
but whether this was due to my offer to pay the board-bills and car-fare
of the organization while it was under my orders, or to my eloquent
statement of my case, I have not yet had an opportunity to discover. The
men who, from the very commencement of the undertaking, had constituted
themselves the inspectors of my whiskey, were in high good spirits, and,
in a body, numbering some forty-six, we arrived in Washington, on a
bright morning, about a week ago. It would not do, on an occasion like
this, to delay matters. Accordingly I marched my troops directly to the
White House. The man in charge of the door took my men for a visiting
target company, and told me, whom he supposed was the member from their
district, that I must marshal my friends out on the green, and he would
notify the Private Secretary. I made no answer to this, but ordered
the troops to charge bayonets, and we entered the White House at a
double-quick. I led the way directly to GRANT'S study, and stationing my
men in the doorway, I entered. He was within, cutting up an "old soger"
to smoke in his pipe. After shaking bands with him, I sat down and
inquired if that was a _regalia _he was cutting up.
"No," said he. "This is the HANCOCK brand."
"Oh!" said I.
"Well?" said he, looking somewhat inquisitively at the soldiers, who
crowded into the doorway, and almost filled the entry beyond.
"Mr. President," said I, rising and clearing my throat, "I do not wish
to occupy much time in the present business--especially as I have to pay
the hotel bills of these brave veterans until it is finished. Therefore
I will come directly to the point. I desire, immediately, the
appointment of Whiskey Inspector for the Judasville district. I have
been an applicant for said position quite long enough, and I demand that
you make out my commission this morning."
"And suppose I don't?" says GRANT.
"In that case," said I,--"in that case--well, in that case, _there_ are
my companions in arms, the brave supporters of my cause!" and I pointed
proudly to the Judasville Rifles.
"Well," said GRANT, puffing away at the HANCOCK remnants, "what do you
propose to do with them--besides paying their hotel bills, I mean?"
"To do?" said I, "to do?"--and now, to tell the truth, I experienced an
immediate disadvantage of not having formed a plan of my campaign. But
it would not do to hesitate.
"To do?" I repeated, speaking louder this time. "I shall march
upon--well, upon each of the public buildings in turn, and I shall take
them and hold them."
"And then?" said GRANT.
"Well," said I, "then, of course, you will see the impossibility of
carrying my strongholds without a fearful slaughter, and to prevent
the consequent effusion of blood, you will despatch a courier to me,
requesting my presence in your council-room."
"And then?" said GRANT.
"I will come," I answered.
"And then?" said GRANT.
"You will give me the Whiskey Inspectorship," I answered.
GRANT glanced at me, and then at the body of troops by which I was
supported. Indomitable resolution sat upon every lineament of my
countenance, and resolute determination showed itself in the faces of my
brave men. Already, from afar, they sniffed the delicious perfumes of
the rewards of victory. (It is needless to particularize the alcoholic
promises I had made them in case of success.)
GRANT rang a little bell--I think he bought it second-hand, when SEWARD
sold out to go travelling--and an obstrusive attendant entered by a back
door.
Then, to this obtrusive attendant said the President; "James, step
over to the War Department and tell SHERMAN to send me the Eighth and
Eleventh Brigades of Cavalry; the Seventy-first and Fortieth Regiments
of Artillery; the Twenty-second, Forty-fourth, and Eighty-eighth
regiments of infantry, and two companies of sappers and miners."
JAMES departed.
I stepped forward.
"Mr. PRESIDENT," said I, "in order to prevent the effusion of blood,
might it not be as well to settle our little business at once?"
GRANT smiled.
HODGINS, the captain of the Judasville Rifles, now came up to me and
touched me on the arm.
"To prevent the effusion of blood," said he, "we are going home."
And they went!
My subsequent adventures, Mr. PUNCHINELLO, I cannot relate, for my paper
is full, and the fellow who has charge of this cell has refused to get
me any more, unless I give him more money, which I haven't got.
But of one thing my mind is certain, and that is that this country has
not yet arrived at that high grade of official refinement and tenderness
which Portugal has reached.
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BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT WITH
L. PRANG & CO.,
we offer the following Elegant Premiums for new Subscribers to
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Remittances should be made in P. 0. Orders, Drafts, or Bank Checks on
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Now is the time to subscribe, as these Premiums will be offered for a
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Address,
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P. O. Box 2783. No. 83 Nassau Street, New York. [Illustration: THE
SIXTEENTH AMENDMENT AGAIN.
Bar-room Lobbyist.--"I TELL YOU, NO, SIR; THIS SIXTEENTH AMENDMENT IS
A DELUSION AND A SNARE. WHAT IN THUNDER IS TO BECOME OF US, WHEN WOMEN
COME INTO THE LOBBY BUSINESS? "]
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THE MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD.
The New Burlesque Serial, Written expressly for PUNCHINELLO, by ORPHEUS
C. KERR,
Commenced in last number, will be continued weekly throughout the year.
A sketch of the eminent author, written by his bosom friend, with superb
illustrations of
1ST. THE AUTHOR'S PALATIAL RESIDENCE AT BEGAD'S HILL, TICKNOR'S FIELDS,
NEW JERSEY.
2D. THE AUTHOR AT THE DOOR OF SAID PALATIAL RESIDENCE, taken as he
appears "Every Saturday," will also be found in No. 11.
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free,) Ten Cents.
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