"that air" line from Washington to New York. This 'ere line didn't suit
him. He appealed to the House to protect its members from the untold
horrors of passing through Philadelphia. He had no doubt that much of
the imbecility which he remarked in his colleagues, and possibly some of
the imbecility they had remarked in him, were due to this dreadful
ordeal. He admitted that good juleps were to be had at he Mint. But
juleps had beguiled even SAMSON, and cut his hair off. His colleague,
LOGAN, might not be as strong as SAMSON, but he would be as entirely
useless and unimpressive an object with his hair off.
Then there was a debate upon the proposition to abolish the mission to
Rome.
Mr. BROOKS said most of his constituents were Roman Catholics. Therefore
there should be a mission to Rome.
Mr. DAWES said that BROOKS used to be a Know-Nothing. Therefore there
should not be a mission to Rome.
Mr. COX said that they used to burn witches in Massachusetts. Therefore
there should be a mission to Rome.
Mr. HOAR said they didn't. Therefore there should not be a mission to
Rome.
Mr. VOORHEES said they burnt a Roman Catholic Asylum in Boston.
Therefore there should be a mission to Rome.
Mr. DAWES said they burnt a Negro Asylum in New York. Therefore there
should not be a mission to Rome.
Mr. VOORHEES said DAWES was another. Therefore there should be a mission
to Rome.
Mr. BINGHAM said POWELL was a much better painter than TITIAN, and
VINNIE REAM a much better sculptor than MICHAEL ANGELO. Therefore there
should not be a mission to Rome.
_Republican Chorus._ You are.
_Democratic Chorus._ We ain't.
_Republican Chorus._ You did.
_Democratic Chorus._ We didn't.
_Solo by the Speaker._ Order.
_Democratic Chorus._ There should be (_da capo_ with gavel
accompaniment.)
_Republican Chorus._ There should not be (ditto, ditto.) After weighing
these arguments, the House adjourned without doing anything about it.
* * * * *
~A BAD "ODOR" IN THE WEST.~
"The Coroner's Jury investigating the Missouri Pacific Railroad
slaughter have found that it was all caused by the disobedience and
negligence of WILLIAM ODOR, conductor of the extra freight
train!"--Daily Paper.
This "conductor" is as dangerous as some (of the "lightning" species)
which we have seen dangling disjointed from the roofs and walls of
dwelling-houses in the country. At the first shock, good-bye to you! if
you are anywhere around. Or, rather, he may be compared to the miasma
from ditches and stagnant ponds, inhaled at all times by our rustic
fellow citizens, with the trustfulness (if not relish) of the most
extreme simplicity. And yet, it kills them, all the same. No one out
West would have cared a pin about WILLIAM'S "disobedience" and
"negligence," if these trifling eccentricities hadn't occasioned the
killing or maiming of several car-loads of passengers. It is hard to
shock these Western folks' sense of honor and fidelity; but kill a few
of them, and the rest begin to feel it. We suppose that just now this
BILL can't pass there. But, our word for it, he'll soon be in
circulation again. Perhaps he may yet have the pleasure of Conducting
some of _us_ to that Station from which, etc., etc. Before we take our
contemplated trip to the West, therefore, we fervently desire to have
this ODOR neutralised, even though one should do it with strychnine.
* * * * *
~INFORMATION WANTED.~
The correspondent of a Boston paper writes as follows, after having
visited the _Reichstag_:
"You may be sure that that man is BISMARCK; if from time to time he
irons out his face wearily with his hands, as he studies a long
document, or if by chance some unlucky member, attracting his disdain,
calls his mind to the fact that he is in Parliament, then he starts to
his feet like a war-horse, and talks with great grace and ease, always
rapidly, always briefly."
Why is it that BISMARCK irons out his face? Is it because he has just
washed it--or is it to conceal his identity, as the features of the Man
in the Mask were ironed out?
And why does the great Minister start to his feet like a war-horse?
PUNCHINELLO, not having been an Alderman or Member of Congress,
recently, is not very familiar with the getting up of war horses; but
the ordinary equine animal does not assume the upright posture with
great readiness or grace. If PUNCHINELLO were to become a member of the
_Reichstag,_ an event now highly probable, he would like to have every
adversary in debate "start to his feet like a war-horse."
* * * * *
[Illustration: ILLUSTRATED LITERATURE.
_Boy (with basket.)_ "WHAT'S THEM PICTERS, JIM?--ANOTHER MURDER, OR A
NEW DIVORCE?"
_Jim._ "NOT MUCH. ONLY AN OLD EXECUTION,--WARMED OVER!"]
~THE ROMAUNT OF THE OYSTER.~
In the moonlight at Cattawampus
We sat by the surging sea,
"And O how I long for an oyster,"
Said FELICIA FITZ-SNYDER to me.
Then I said, "Would were mine the power,
Deep, deep, to the deepmost sea
I would fly on the wings of an oyster
To gather a pearl for thee.
"Where the oysters are roystering together
In the caves and the grots where they lie,
And the clams with a musical clamor
Rejoice when the water is high,"
"O, there would my spirit conduct thee.
Till, as waves began to swell,
Thou shoulds't rise o'er the crest of the billows,
Like a VENUS upon the half-shell!"
'Twas enough: for I saw her eye stir,
And ope like an oyster wide,
As in accents hysteric she whispered,
"No, FELIX--I'd like 'em fried!"
Did she take me, alas! for a friar,
Or a man of a soul austere,
That pearl of my heart's Chincoteague?
Oh, no, she had nothing to fear.
Then we reached the hotel together
And partook of two plates of fry,
And I marvelled to think than an oyster
Had hoisted her spirits so high.
* * * * *
~FOREIGN CORRESPONDENCE.~
(By Atlantic Cable.)
Leaving Rome, I have called next on NAPOLEON, at Paris. He sent word,
through OLLIVIER, that be wanted to see me. He looks _old._ Some medical
man has put forth the idea that he has BRIGHT'S disease. An English
_attache_ just asked me whether that has any reference to JOHN BRIGHT.
As the latter is a Quaker, the first symptom of this disease must have
been shown long ago, when the Emperor said, "The Empire is Peace." I
satisfied my friend, however, that the case was not one of that Kidney.
Well, the Emperor asked me, "What do they say of me in America?"
"Sire, we think you are very wise, to accept the inevitable, and make a
virtue of it."
"Wise, of course. Disinterested, too!"
"_Pardonnez moi._ Not ever _wise, of course._ Mexico was a folly, you
know."
"I know; though if you were not PUNCHINELLO, you should not say it. Will
my son reign in France?"
"Sire, I am not an oracle. But they have a proverb in my country, that
it never rains but it pours."
"_Je n'entends pas._ The _plebiscite_ was rather a neat thing!"
"Worthy of its author. The old story; heads I win, tails you lose. But,
will your Majesty say what you think of the Pope?"
"That old Popinjay! He has been my folly, greater than Mexico. He would
have gone to Gaeta, or to perdition, long ago, but for _Madame!_"
"And the Council?"
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"
"What do you think of BISMARCK?"
"Monsieur, I detain you too long. You have, I am sure, an engagement.
_Bon jour!_"
_Apropos_ of the Emperor, it is said that, on the suggestion of
England's proposal to take charge of Greece, and clean out the brigands,
if the King and ministers there would resign,--Col. FISK telegraphed on
to NAPOLEON, offering to take charge of the government of France, as a
recreation, among his various engagements. He does not even require the
Emperor to withdraw; be can run the machine about as well with him as
without him.
As to the _Plebisculum,_ they say that EUGENIE asked for masses to be
said in all the churches for its success. NAPOLEON preferred to make his
appeal to the _masses outside_ of the churches.
ITALY.
Bishop VERELLI last week declared, in a sermon, that railroads,
telegraphs, and the press, were all inventions of the devil. A
correspondent of the Tribune at once sent him word that this was a
mistake. HORACE GREELEY had already proved that railroads and telegraphs
were inventions of British Free Trade; and that the press had been
invented by his grandfather, for the promulgation of protection.
Since the telegram came through Florence, of a serious riot at
Filadelfia, in Italy, a tourist from Penn's city of brotherly love
understood it to be that Col. TOM FLORENCE was seriously hurt in a riot
at Philadelphia! I telegraphed for him, to my old friend the Colonel,
and learned, with satisfaction, that not a hair of TOM'S head had been
shortened.
ENGLAND.
In Parliament, an interesting debate occurred the other night. Mr.
DAWSON moved a resolution condemning the raising of large revenue in
India from opium. Mr. WINGFIELD opposed the resolution, arguing that
opium was less hurtful than alcohol. Mr. TITMOUSE, a young member, added
that arsenic is less hurtful than strychnine; also, that this is less
injurious than prussic acid. Mr. GLADSTONE did not see what that had to
do with the case. Neither did I.
Mr. DENNISON hoped that mere sentiment would not be suffered to
interfere with the prosperity of India. Mr. TITMOUSE then suggested the
sending of the volunteer Rifles to take immediate possession of China;
that would not be sentimental, but practical. Mr. HENLEY believed that
to be a more costly affair than he was prepared for; but, whenever the
interest of England required it, he was ready. What are the lives of a
hundred million Chinese to the financial prosperity of England? Mr.
GLADSTONE considered that opium was merely a drug, after all. It was not
worth while to consume the time of the House about it. And so the
resolution was lost.
PRIME.
* * * * *
~A Mathematical Problem.~
If one United States Marshal can capture a Fenian General surrounded by
his army, in five minutes, how long would it take him to capture the
army?
* * * * *
[Illustration: 'K']
THE PLAYS AND SHOWS.
Kant is admitted to be one of the greatest of the German philosophers.
(That fact has nothing whatever to do with the Plays and Shows, but the
artist insisting upon making K the initial letter of this column, the
writer was obliged to begin with Kant--Kelley being hopelessly
associated in the public mind with pig-iron, and all other metaphorical
quays from which he might have launched his weekly bark being
unreasonably spelled with a Q.)
German philosophy, however, resembles Italian Opera in one particular:
it consists more of sound than of sense. Both have a like effect upon
the undersigned, in that they lead him into the paths of innocence and
peace; in short, they put him to sleep. A few nights since he went to
hear Miss KELLOGG in _Poliuto_. He listened with attention through the
first act, drowsily through the second, and from the shades of dreamland
in the third. Between the acts he lounged in the lobbies and heard the
critics speak with sneering derision of the complimentary notices of the
American Nightingale which they were about to write, while they
expressed, with sardonic smiles, a longing for the day when they would
be "allowed"--such was their singular expression--to "speak the truth
about Miss KELLOGG as a prima donna." And while he sat with closed eyes
during the third act, wondering whether he should believe the critics in
the flesh, or their criticisms in the columns of their respective
journals, he saw rehearsed before him a new operatic perversion of
MACBETH, as unlike the original as even VERDI'S MACBETTO, and quite as
inexplicable to the unsophisticated mind. And this is what he saw:
_Scene, the Dark Cave in fourteenth street. In the middle a Cauldron
boiling. Thunder--and probably small beer--behind the scenes. Enter
three Witches._
_1st Witch_. Thrice the Thomas cat hath yowled.
_2d Witch_. Thrice; and once the hedge-hog howled.
_3d Witch_. All of which is wholly irrelevant to our present purpose,
which is to summon what my friend Sir BULWER LYTTON would call the
Scin-Laeca, or, apparition of each living critic from the nasty deep of
the cauldron, and to interview him in order to hear what he really
thinks of Miss KELLOGG.
_lst Witch_
"Round about the cauldron go,
In the poisoned whiskey throw
Lager, that on coldest stone,
Days and nights hast thirty one."
_Enter_ MACSTRAKOSCH. "How now, you secret black and midnight hags, what
is't you do?"
_All_ "A deed that under present circumstances it would be superfluous
to name."
_MacStrakosch_. "I conjure you by that which you profess, (how'er you
come to know it,) answer me to what I ask you."
_lst Witch_. "Speak."
_2d Witch_. "Proceed."
_3d Witch_. "Out with it, old boy."
_MacStrakosch_. "What do these fellows really think, whom we compel to
write so sweetly of our own Connecticut _prima donna_?"
_All_
"Come high or low, come jack or even game,
We'll answer all your questions just the same."
_Thunder. An apparition of a critic rises._
_MacStrakosch_.
"Tell me, thou unknown power, what thinkest thou Of our own native
nightingale?"
_Apparition_.
"Her voice is clear and bright, but far too thin
For a great singer.--Such in truth she's not.
Dismiss me!" (_Descends_.)
_MacStrakosch_.
"Dismissed thou shalt be if thy editor
Will listen to our singer's and MAECENAS' plaint.
But one word more."
_Thunder. Second apparition of a critic rises.
Apparition_.
"Her voice is good in quality, but then
There's not sufficient of it for a queen
Of the lyric stage. Yet such she claims to be,
But is not. Now dismiss me." (_Descends_.)
_MacStrakosch_.
"Yea; and I will unless thy master's ear
Be deaf to the demand of good society.
Let me hear more!"
_Thunder. Third apparition of a critic rises.
Apparition_.
"Her lower notes are bad, her upper notes
Forced, reedy, and most sadly often flat;
'Tis folly to compare her with the great
Full-voiced and plenteous Parepa. Now
Dismiss me if thou wilt."
_MacStrakosch_.
"Sacrilegious wretch! I have thy name
Upon my tablets. Thy official head
Comes off at once. Call up, ye midnight hags,
Another of these villains."
_Thunder. Fourth apparition of a critic rises.
Apparition_.
"Her acting, like her voice, is cold and hard;
Not thus did GRISI, GAZZANIGA or
CORTESI act when their warm Southern blood
Throbbed in the passionate pulse of VIOLETTA,
NORMA, or the Spanish LEONORE.
Dismiss me, quick."
_MacStralosch_.
"Thon diest ere to-morrow's sun shall set,
Or never more advertisement of mine
Shall grace the columns of thy journal. Next."
_Thunder. Fifth apparition of a critic rises.
Apparition_.
"She in the same in everything she sings;
Her 'Gilda,' her 'Amina,' or her 'Marguerite,'
Her 'Leonora,' or her 'Daughter of
The Regiment,' are one and all the same
Fair lady decked in different stage costumes.
Better dismiss me, now. I've told the truth,
And may continue that unseemly practice."
_MacStrakosch_.
"This is past bearing. Are there any more
Of these rude fellows waiting to be summoned?"
_Thunder. Eight apparitions of critics rise and pass over the stage,
reciting the following chorus:
Apparitions_.
"She has a pretty little voice, and uses it
In pretty little ways. If she would sing
In pretty little theatres she'd make a hit
In pretty little parts. That's everything
That can be said for her. Cease then to claim
That "KELLOGG" should be writ next GRISI'S name."
_The apparitions vanish. An alarm of drums is heard, and_ MATADOR
_awakes to find that he is still enduring Poliuto, and that a sporadic
drum in the orchestra, which has broken loose from the weak restraints
of the conductor's discipline, is making Verdi unnecessarily hideous._
And as he passed once more and finally through the lobby, he heard a
critic remark, "She is the same in everything she sings;" and another
reply, "Yes, she has a pretty little voice, and uses it nicely, but she
is by no means a great singer." Struck by the similarity of these
remarks to those made by the apparitions in his vision, he began to
doubt whether his dream did not, after all, contain a large alloy of
truth, and the more he thought on the subject the more he was led to
believe that for once he had really heard the critics of the New York
press indulging in an unrestrained expression of honest opinion.
MATADOR
* * * * *
~Bingham on Rome.~
"Talk to me at this time of day about Borne being the Mother of Arts!"
cries Mr. BUNCOMBE BINGHAM, M.C. PUNCHINELLO fervently hopes that at no
time of the day will anybody ever talk to BINGHAM about Borne being the
Mother of Arts. The reason therefor is obvious. "Why, sir," says
BINGHAM, "there is more of that genius which makes even the marble itself
wear the divine beauty of life, more of that power to-day in living
America, than was ever dreamed of in Rome, living or dead!" We think we
hear BINGHAM exclaim, with the gladiator-like championship of Art for
which he is renowned--"Bring on your MICHAEL ANGELOS; produce your
CHIAROSCUROS, your MASANIELLOS, your SAVONAROLAS and the rest of
'em--but show me a match for VINNIE REAM!"
* * * * *
[Illustration: ~PERSIFLAGE.~
Jenkins (_Chaffing glazier, who is mending basement window_.) "NOW, MY
FRIEND, TRY TO GET OUT THAT WAY. YOU KNOW YOU MUST HAVE BEEN PUT IN FOR
_something_, AND YOU'LL ONLY AGGRAVATE MATTERS IF YOU TRY TO BREAK
JAIL."]
* * * * *
~Chinopathy.~
Did the gentleman who threw a brick at a dog on a very hot day (when no
doubt that inoffensive animal was in a stew) imagine that he had hit
upon the whole of the common Chinese _materia medica?_ PUNCHINELLO is
gravely told that a Celestial doctor is about to come to New York, whose
favorite prescriptions, in accordance with Chinese practice, "will be
baked clay-dust, similar to brick-dust and dog-soup." In one of these
remedies the medical acumen of PUNCHINELLO recognizes a homoeopathic
principle. Man having been made out of the dust of the earth, nothing is
so well adapted to cure him as baked clay. Every man's house is now not
only his castle, but his apothecary shop. A brick may be considered a
panacea, and may be carried in the hat. Taken internally, it will go to
the building up of the system. Applied to the head it is good for
fractures. Dog-soup has an evident advantage over the usual
prescriptions of Bark.
* * * * *
~Greek Meeting Greek.~
We learn that "a naval architect named DUNKIN claims to have constructed
a new style of vessel, impervious to rams, shell, or shot." Now, then,
where is our friend, Captain ERICSSON? The Captain has a torpedo which
he is anxious to explode, near a strong vessel belonging to somebody
else. He says it will blow up anything. DUNIN says nothing can blow up
his vessel. A contest between these very positive inventors would be a
positive luxury--to those who had nothing to risk. We bet on the
torpedo.
* * * * *
~The "New Muscle".~
It was a mere joke, that stuff about the "new muscle in the human body,"
said to have been found by an English anatomist. It simply meant that,
the Oyster Months being past, the "human body" begins to be nourished
with soft-shell clams.
* * * * *
~GRAVESTONES FOR SALE.~
Bargains in Immortality
The undersigned offers for sale to the highest bidder, up to Doomsday
next, several choice lots of tombstones. Bidders will state price and
terms of payment, and accepted purchasers will remove the monuments from
their present localities, at their own risk. The lots are:
1st. A gravestone of white marble. It is about 65 feet square at the
base, and is the frustrum of a pyramid, truncated at about 140 feet. It
is filled with a square hole, upon the sides of which are inscriptions
let into various colored marbles, and in the languages of the peoples
who inhabited a great country ages ago. The stone was designed to be put
over the remains of PRO PATRIA, a personage once celebrated for loyalty
and wisdom, but whose teachings are now well nigh forgotten, and whose
name even is fast being obliterated from the memories of radical
improvers of governments and republican institutions. This lot may be
seen south of the mouth of Goose Creek, in a district called Columbia.
2d. A gravestone consisting of a square house of Illinois marble, with a
piece of a smoke-stack protruding from the roof. About one-third of the
estimated cost had been expended, when the persons who were to furnish
the means suddenly concluded that the Little Giant could sleep just as
well in a filthy unmarked hole in the ground, as under a pile of marble.
Besides, being dead, he couldn't get any more offices for his
constituents, so they found out they didn't care a cuss for him. Further
information about this stone can be obtained by applying to any citizen
of Chicago.
3d. A monument which we haven't seen, and so can't describe. It is
supposed to be at Springfield, Illinois, and was intended for a person
once called a railsplitter--a man much homelier than the typical hedge
fence, but as good as homely. He was thought to be a second PRO PATRIA,
MOSES, or some such person, and was sworn by, by millions of people who
would now almost deny ever having heard of him. At the time he went out
everybody wanted to put up a gravestone immediately--almost before he
needed one. Now, everybody isn't altogether enough to provide one. For
further particulars about the Springfield stone, inquire of any red-hot
radical.
There are some other lots, but we will not offer them until we see how
the present ones go off.
GHOUL, _Undertaker._
* * * * *
~LATEST ABOUT "LO!"~
The Irrepressible Black having been repressed, here comes the
Irrepressible Red! HIAWATHA is cutting up a great variety of capers as
well as of unfortunate settlers. Should you ask us why this bloodshed,
Why this scalping and this burning, Why this conduct most disgraceful,
Why these crimes of the Piegans, Why this sending forth of soldiers, Why
the perils of the railway, known as and called the way Pacific, (which
it won't be if these actions are allowed to go unpunished,) We should
tell you--whiskey! to say nothing of the indomitable propensity which
rises in the Piegan bosom for scalps. The noble Son of the Forest is an
amateur in scalps; as some of us are all for old books and others for
old coins. But however much we may respect the enthusiasm of the wild
Rover of the Plains, in making these collections of cranial curiosities,
we feel that the red virtuoso is really going too far--at least we
should feel so, we have no doubt, if he were taking off our own private
scalp, which is a very handsome one, and which we hope to be buried in.
No; the Piegan passion for scalps must be suppressed. But how? Some say
by more whiskey. Some say by less. Some say by none at all. We are for
the more instead of the less. There is whiskey and whiskey. Now our idea
would be to send an unlimited supply of the more deadly variety of that
exhilarating fluid, (highly camphened,) to the convivial Piegans. After
an extensive debauch upon this potent tipple, very few Piegans would be
likely to take the field, either this summer or any other. They would be
Dead Reds, every rascal of them.
* * * * *
Extraordinary Bargains
In
REAL INDIA, CASHMERE AND SUMMER SHAWLS,
Paris and Domestic Made Silk Cloaks,
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all Colors,_
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Ladies' Spring and Summer Suits in SILK,
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and Plain CAMBRICS.
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Ladies', Children's and Infants' Underwear,
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A.T. Stewart & CO.,
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* * * * *
A. T. STEWART & CO.
Are offering
an IMMENSE VARIETY OF NOVELTIES in
SILKS, SILK TISSUES, POPLINS,
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Dresses._
Every Variety of Goods Suitable for Mourning.
HOSIERY.
Alexandre's Celebrated Kid Gloves, In new
Shades of Color, at extremely
attractive prices.
BROADWAY,
4th Avenue, 9th and 10th Streets.
* * * * *
A. T. STEWART & CO.
Offer the balance of their stock of
Trimmed Bonnets and Hats,
Paris and Domestic made.
FLOWERS, FEATHERS,
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&c., at greatly Reduced Prices.
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BLACK AND WHITE CHIP HATS, ETC.
The Latest styles.
BROADWAY,
4th Ave., 9th and 10th Sts.
* * * * *
SPECIAL
PUNCHINELLO PREMIUMS.
By special arrangement with
L. PRANG & CO.,
we offer the following Elegant Premiums for new Subscribers to
PUNCHINELLO:
"Awakening." (A Litter of Puppies.) Half Chromo, size,
8 3-8 by 11 1-8, price $2.00, and a copy of PUNCHINELLO for
one year, for $4.00.
"Wild Roses." Chromo, 12 1-8 by 9, price $3.00, or any
other $3.00 Chromo, and a copy of the paper for one year for
$5.00.
"The Baby in Trouble." Chromo, 13 by 16 1-4,
price $6.00 or any other at $6.00, or any two Chromos at $3.00,
and a copy of the paper for one year, for $7.00.