DEAR MR. PUNCH,

[Illustration]

YOU'LL be glad most likely to hear what's going on in the

boot-blackin' world, of which I'm now a honarery member, havin'

bin thirty-five years at it come next Chrismas, and now retired to

Camberwell to do the rest of my life easy. Fact is, Sir, there's a

many young 'uns come on, and scarcely sufficient boots for 'em to get

a livin out of, more partikler with them new yaller boots, which

is pison to the honest boot-black. So thinks I to myself, I've bin

polishin' a long time and knows all the tricks of it, why shouldn't

I lend a 'and to them as is startin'. I'll write down what I knows

myself, and I'll get all the best blackers of the day to tell me what

they knows about it, and then I'll set the lot together and get it

printed. Fact is, I got put on the job by a feller who come to see me

'tother day--a tidy young sprig, full of all them new notions. Says 'e

to me, "BILL," 'e says, "'ow do you walk?" "Why," I say, "on two legs

like the rest of 'em; what do you think?" "No," 'e says, "that ain't

what I mean, you Juggins" (there's a pretty word to use to one old

enough to be his father); "what is the process you go through in

walking?" "Well," I says, "if that's what you're up to, I mostly puts

one foot in front of 'tother, and arterwards brings the back foot

forrard and leaves 'tother behind." "Ah," says 'e, "that's jest where

you make a bloomin' errer. Your brain sends a message through your

nerves, and then you set to work, movin' the extenser mussels and the

glutyus maksimus, and there you are." Well, I thought about that

a lot, and on the top of it I got 'old of a book called the Art of

Authorship, by Mister GEORGE BAINTON, who's agoin' to teach everybody

'ow to write things pretty and proper, and make no end of money out

of it. Pr'aps, thinks I to myself, there's more in blackin' boots than

meets the eye. I'll write about that on the same plan, gettin' all the

fellers I know to 'elp me. Fust, I drew up a lot of questions, and I

sent 'em round. Then when the ansers come in I got a young chap, who

writes for the _Camberwell Star_, to polish 'em up a bit with grammar

and spellin', asking 'im to do it like Mister GEORGE BAINTON. I've

jest dropped in a word or two of my own 'ere and there, to show what I

mean. So 'ere they are, Sir, and quite at your servis; and I knows

if you prints 'em, there's many a boot-black unborn, as'll bless your

name, not forgettin',

Yours truely,

the Author,

BILL THE BOOTBLACK.

Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98, May 31, 1890 · 第 34 / 36 题