the judge and jury cut them, Mr. Titmouse turns up possessor of Yatton
and ten thousand a-year; while Aubrey, quite at the bottom of the pack,
is in a state of destitution. To show the depth of distress into which
he has fallen, a happy expedient is hit upon: he is described as turning
his attention and attainments to literature; and that the unfathomable
straits he is put to may be fully understood, he is made a reviewer!
Thus the highest degree of sympathy is excited towards him; for
everybody knows that no person would willingly resort to criticism
(literary or dramatic) as a means of livelihood, if he could command a
broom and a crossing to earn a penny by, or while there exists a
Mendicity Society to get soup from.
We have yet to mention one character; and considering that he is the
main-spring of the whole matter, we cannot put it off any longer. Mr.
Gammon is a lawyerthat is quite enough; we need not say more. You all
know that stage solicitors are more outrageous villains than even their
originals. Mr. Gammon is, of course, a fine speciment of the specious,
as Mr. Hoods Mr. Higgings says. It is he who, finding out a flaw in
Aubreys title, angled per advertisement for the heir, and caught a
TittlebatTitmouse. It is he who has so disinterestedly made that
gentlemans fortune.Only just merely for the sake of the costs? one
naturally asks. Oh no; there is a stronger reason (with which, however,
reason has nothing to do)love! Mr. Gammon became desperately enamoured
of Miss Aubrey; but she was silly enough to prefer the heir to a
peerage, Mr. Delamere. Mr. Gammon never forgave her, and so ruins her
brother.
Having brought the whole family to a state in which he supposes they
will refuse nothing, Gammon visits Miss Aubrey, and, in the most
handsome manner, offers hernotwithstanding the disparity in their
circumstanceshis hand, heart, and fortune. More than that, he promises
to restore the estate of Yatton to its late possessor. To his
astonishment the lady rejects him; and, he showing what the bills call
the cloven foot, Miss Aubrey orders him to be shown out. Meantime, Mr.
Tittlebat Titmouse, having been returned M.P. for Yatton, has made a
great noise in house, not by his oratorical powers, but by his
proficient imitations of cock-crowing and donkey-braying.
This being Act IV., it is quite clear that Gammons villany and
Tittlebats prosperity cannot last much longer. Both are ended in an
original manner. True to the principle with which the Adelphi commenced
its seasonthat of putting stage villany into comedyMr. Gammon
concludes the facetiæ with which his part abounds by a comic suicide!
All the details of this revolting operation are gone through amidst the
most ponderous levity; insomuch, that the audience had virtue enough to
hiss most lustily33. While this page was passing through the press, we
witnessed a representation of Ten Thousand a-Year a second time, and
observed that the offensiveness of this scene was considerably abated.
Mr. Lyon deserves a word of praise for his acting in that passage of the
piece as it now stands. .
Thus the string of rascality by which the piece is held together being
cut, it naturally finishes by the reinstatement of Aubreytogether with
a view of Yatton in sunshine, a procession of charity children, mutual
embraces by all the characters, and a song by Mrs. Grattan. What becomes
of Titmouse is not known, and did not seem to be much cared about.
This piece is interesting, not because it is cleverly constructed (for
it is not), nor because Mr. Titmouse dyes his hair green with a barbers
nostrum, nor on account of the cupboard court of Nisi Prius, nor of the
charity children, nor because Mr. Wieland, instead of playing the devil
himself, played Mr. Snap, one of his limbsbut because many of the
scenes are well-drawn pictures of life. The childrens ball in the first
epoch, for instance, was altogether excellently managed and true; and
though many of the characters are overcharged, yet we have seen people
like them in Chancery-lane, at Messrs. Swan and Edgars, in country
houses, and elsewhere. The suicide incident is, however, a disgusting
drawback.
The acting was also good, but too extravagantly so. Mr. Wright, as
Titmouse, thought perhaps that a Cockney dandy could not be caricatured,
and he consequently went desperate lengths, but threw in here and there
a touch of nature. Mr. Lyon was as energetic as ever in Gammon; Mrs.
Yates as lugubrious as is her wont in Miss Aubrey; Mrs. Grattan acted
and looked as if she were quite deserving of a man with ten thousand a
year. As to her singing, if her husband were in possession of twenty
thousand per annum, (would to the gods he were!) it could not have been
more charmingly tasteful. The pathetics of Wilkinson (as Quirk) in the
suicide scene, and just before the event, deserve the attention and
imitation of Macready. We hope the former comedians next character will
be Ion, or, at least, Othello. He has now proved that smaller parts are
beneath his purely histrionic talents.
Mr. Yates did not make a speech! This extraordinary omission set the
house in a buzz of conjectural wonderment till The Maid of Honour put
a stop to it.
NOTE.A critique on this piece would have appeared last week, if it had
pleased some of the people at the post-office (through which the MS. was
sent to the Editors) not to steal it. Perhaps they took it for something
valuable; and, perhaps, they were not mistaken. Thanks be to Mercury, we
have plenty of wit to spare, and can afford some of it to be stolen now
and then. Still we entreat Colonel Maberly (Editor of the Post in St.
Martins-le-Grand) to supply his clerks with jokes enough to keep them
alive, that they may not be driven to steal other peoples. The most
effectual way to preserve them in a state of jocular honesty would be
for him to present every person on the establishment with a copy of
Punch from week to week.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 1. DECEMBER 4, 1841. [pg 241]
OFFICIAL REPORT OF THE FIRE AT THE TOWER. The document with this title,
that has got into the newspapers, has been dressed up for the public
eye. We have obtained the original draft, and beg to administer it to
our readers neat, in the precise language it was written in.
THE OFFICIAL REPORT. MR. SNOOKS says, that it being his turn to be on
watch on the night of Saturday, October 30th, he went to his duty as
usual, and having turned into his box, slept until he was amazed by
shouts and the rolling of wheels in all directions. The upper door of
his box being open, he looked out of it, and his head struck violently
against something hard, upon which he attempted to open the lower door
of his box, when he found he could not. Thinking there was something
wrong, he became very active in raising an alarm, but could obtain no
attention; and he has since found that in the hurry of moving property
from different parts of the building, his box had been closely
barricaded; and he, consequently, was compelled to remain in it until
the following morning. He says, however, that everything was quite safe
in the middle of the day when he took his great-coat to his box, and
trimmed his lantern ready for the evening.
MRS. SNOOKS, wife of the above witness, corroborates the account of her
husband, so far as trimming the lanthern in the daytime is concerned,
and also as to his being encased in his box until the morning. She had
no anxiety about him, because she had been distinctly told that the fire
did not break out until past ten, and her husband she knew was sure to
be snug in his box by that time.
JOHN JONES, a publican, says, at about nine oclock on Saturday, the
30th of October, he saw a light in the Tower, which flickered very much
like a candle, as if somebody was continually blowing one out and
blowing it in again. He observed this for about half an hour, when it
began to look as if several gas-lights were in the room and some one was
turning the gas on and off very rapidly. After this he went to bed, and
was disturbed shortly before midnight by hearing that the Tower was in
flames.
SERGEANT FIPS, of the Scotch Fusileer (Qy. Few sillier) Guards, was at a
public-house on Tower-hill, when, happening to go to the door, he
observed a large quantity of thick smoke issuing from one of the windows
of the Tower. Knowing that Major Elrington, the deputy governor, was
fond of a cigar, he thought nothing of the circumstance of the smoke,
and was surprised in about half an hour to see flames issuing from the
building.
GEORGE SNIVEL saw the fire bursting from the Tower on Saturday night,
and being greatly frightened he ran home to his mother as soon as
possible. His mother called him a fool, and said it was the gas-works.
THOMAS POPKINS rents a back attic at Rotherhithe; he had been peeling an
onion on the 30th of October, and went to the window for the purpose of
throwing out the external coat of the vegetable mentioned in the
beginning of his testimony, when he saw a large fire burning somewhere,
with some violence. Not thinking it could be the Tower, he went to bed
after eating the onionwhich has been already twice alluded to in the
course of his evidence.
MR. SWIFT, of the Jewel-office, says, that he saw the Tower burning at
the distance of about three acres from where the jewels are kept, when
his first thought was to save the regalia. For this purpose he rushed to
the scene of the conflagration and desired everybody who would obey him,
to leave what they were about and follow him to that part of the Tower
set apart for the jewels. Several firemen were induced to quit the
pumps, and having prevailed on a large body of soldiers, he led them and
a vast miscellaneous mob to the apartments where the crown, &c., were
deposited. After a considerable quantity of squeezing, screaming,
cursing, and swearing, it was discovered that the key was missing, when
the jewel-room was carried by storm, and the jewels safely lodged in
some other part of the building. When witness returned to the fire, it
was quite out, and the armoury totally demolished.
The whole of the official report is in the same satisfactory strain, but
we do not feel ourselves justified in printing any more of it.
A CON-CERTED CON. When is the helm of a ship like a certain English
composer?said the double bass to the trombone in the orchestra of
Covent Garden Theatre, while resting themselves the other evening
between the acts of Norma.The trombone wished he might be blowed if he
could tell.When it is A-lee quoth the bassrosining his bow with
extraordinary delight at his own conceit.
RECONCILING A DIFFERENCE. Two literary partisans were lately contending
with considerable warmth, for the superiority of Taits or Blackwoods
Magazinetill from words they fell to blows, and decided the dispute by
the argumentum ad hominem.Doctor Maginn, hearing of the circumstance,
observed to a friend, that however the pugnacious gentlemans opinions
might differ with respect to Tait and Blackwood, it was evident they
were content to decide them by a Frazer (fray sir).
OUR WEATHERCOCK. The state of the weather, at all times an object of
intense interest and general conversation amongst Englishmen, has
latterly engaged much of our attention; and the observations which we
have made on the extraordinary changes which have taken place in the
weathercock during the last week warrant us in saying there must be
something in the wind. It has been remarked that Mr. Macreadys Hamlet
and Mr. Dubourgs chimneys have not drawn well of late. A smart breeze
sprung up between Mr. and Mrs. Smith, of Brixton, on last Monday
afternoon, which increased during the night, and ended in a perfect
storm. Sir Peter Laurie on the same evening retired to bed rather misty,
and was exceedingly foggy all the following morning. At the Lord Mayors
dinner the glass was observed to rise and fall several times in a most
remarkable manner, and at last settled at heavy wet. A flock of gulls
were seen hovering near Crockfords on Tuesday, and on that morning the
milkman who goes the Russell-square walk was observed to blow the tips
of his fingers at the areas of numerous houses. Applications for food
were made by some starving paupers to the Relieving Officers of
different workhouses, but the hearts of those worthy individuals were
found to be completely frozen. Notwithstanding the severity of the
weather, the nose of the beadle of St. Clement Danes has been seen for
nearly the last fortnight in full blossom. A heavy fall of blankets took
place on Wednesday, and the fleecy covering still lies on several beds
in and near the metropolis. Expecting frost to set in, Sir Robert Peel
has been busily employed on his sliding scale; in fact, affairs are
becoming very slippery in the Cabinet, and Sir James Graham is already
preparing to trim his sail to the next change of wind. Watercresses, we
understand, are likely to be scarce; there is a brisk demand for bosom
friends amongst unmarried ladies; and it is feared that the intense
cold which prevails at nights will drive some unprovided young men into
the union.
THE BANE AND ANTIDOTE. We are requested to state that the insane person
who lately attempted to obtain an entrance into Buckingham Palace was
not the Finsbury renegade, Mr. Wakley. We are somewhat surprised that
the rumour should have obtained circulation, as the unfortunate man is
described as being of respectable appearance.
THE CORSAIR. A POEM TO BE READ ON RAILROADS. The sky was darkthe sea
was rough;
The Corsairs heart was brave and tough;
The wind was highthe waves were steep;
The moon was veildthe ocean deep;
The foam against the vessel dashd:
The Corsair overboard was washd.
A rope in vain was thrown to save
The brine is now the Corsairs grave!
As it is expected that the jogging and jerking, or the sudden passing
through tunnels, may in some degree interfere with the perusal of this
poem, we give it with the abbreviations, as it is likely to be read with
the drawbacks alluded to.
Wherever there is a dashit is supposed there will be a jolt of the
vehicle.
CORSAIR-POEM. skydarksearough;
Corsairbravetough;
windhighwaves steep;
moonveildocedeep;
foamgainstvessdashd;
Corsairboardwashd.
ropevainto save,
brineCorsgrave.
STUPID AS A POST. The Morning Post has made another blunder. Lord
Abinger, it seems, is too Conservative to resign. After all the
editorial boasting about exclusive information, official
intelligence, &c. it is very evident that the Morning Twaddler must
not be looked upon as a direction post.
We learn that a drama of startling interest, founded upon a recent event
of singular horror, is in active preparation at the Victoria Theatre. It
is to be entitled Cavanagh the Culprit; or, the Irish Saveloyard. The
interest of the drama will be immensely strengthened by the introduction
of the genuine knife with which the fatal ham was cut. Real saveloys
will also be eaten by the Fasting Phenomenon before the audience.
Never saw such stirring times, as the spoon said to the saucepan.
[pg 242] THE PUFF PAPERS. A very large man is surprised by a very
small man in a box. CHAPTER I. Having expressed the great gratification
I should enjoy at being permitted to become a member of so agreeable a
society, I was formally presented by the chairman with a capacious
meerschaum, richly mounted in silver, and dark with honoured age, filled
with choice tobacco, which he informed me was the initiatory pipe to be
smoked by every neophyte on his admission amongst the Puffs. I shall
not attempt to describe with what profound respect I received that
venerable tube into my handshow gently I applied the blazing match to
its fragrant contentshow affectionately I placed the amber mouth-piece
between my lips, and propelled the thick wreaths of smoke in circling
eddies to the ceiling:to dilate upon all this might savour of an
egotistical desire to exalt my own meritsa species of puffing I
mortally abhor. Suffice it to say, that when I had smoked the pipe of
peace, I was heartily congratulated by the chairman and the company
generally upon the manner in which I had acquitted myself, and I was
declared without a dissentient voice a duly-elected member of the
Puffs.
The business of the night, which my entrance had interrupted, was now
resumed; and the chairman, whom I shall call Arden, striking his hammer
upon a small mahogany box which was placed before him on the table,
requested silence. Before I permit him to speak, I must give my readers
a pen-and-ink sketch of his person. He was rather tall and erect in his
personhis head was finely formedand he had a quick grey eye, which
would have given an unpleasant sharpness to his features, had it not
been softened by the benevolent smile which played around his mouth. In
his attire he was somewhat formal, and he affected an antiquated style
in the fashion of his dress. When he spoke, his words fell with measured
precision from his lips; but the mellow tone of his voice, and a certain
courteous empressement in his manner, at once interested me in his
favour; and I set him down in my mind as a gentleman of the old English
school. How far I was right in my conjecture my readers will hereafter
have an opportunity of determining.
Our new member, said the chairman, turning towards me, should now be
informed that we have amongst us some individuals who possess a taste
for literary pursuits.
A very small taste, whispered a droll-looking Puff, with a
particularly florid nose, who was sitting on my right hand, and who
appeared to be watching all the evening for opportunities of letting off
his jokes, which were always applauded longest and loudest by himself.
My comical neighbours name, I afterwards learned, was Bayles; he was
the licensed jester of the club; he had been a punster from his youth;
and it was his chief boast that he had joked himself into the best
society and out of the largest fortune of any individual in the three
kingdoms.
This incorrigible wag having broken the thread of the chairmans speech,
I shall only add the substance of it. It was, that the literary members
of the Puffs had agreed to contribute from time to time articles in
prose and verse; tales, legends, and sketches of life and mannersall
which contributions were deposited in the mahogany box on the table; and
from this literary fund a paper was extracted by the chairman on one of
the nights of meeting in each week, and read by him aloud to the club.
These manuscripts, I need scarcely say, will form the series of THE PUFF
PAPERS, which, for the special information of the thousands of the fair
sex who will peruse them, are like the best black teas, strongly
recommended for their fine curling leaf.
The first paper drawn by the chairman was an Irish Tale; which, after a
humorous protest by Mr. Bayles against the introduction of foreign
extremities, was ordered to be read.
The candles being snuffed, and the chairmans spectacles adjusted to the
proper focus, he commenced as follows:
THE GIANTS STAIRS. A LEGEND OF THE SOUTH OF IRELAND. Dont be for
quitting us so airly, Felix, ma bouchal, its a taring night without,
and youre better sitting there opposite that fire than facing this
unmarciful storm, said Tim Carthy, drawing his stool closer to the
turf-piled hearth, and addressing himself to a young man who occupied a
seat in the chimney nook, whose quick bright eye and somewhat humorous
curl of the corner of the mouth indicated his character pretty
accurately, and left no doubt that he was one of those who would laugh
their laugh out, if the ould boy stood at the door. The reply to Tims
proposal was a jerk of Felixs great-coat on his left shoulder, and a
sly glance at the earthen mug which he held, as he gradually bent it
from its upright position, until it was evident that the process of
absorption had been rapidly acting on its contents. Tim, who understood
the freemasonry of the manoeuvre, removed all the latent scruples of
Felix by addingTheres more of that stuffwhere you know; and by the
crook of St. Patrick well have another drop of it to comfort us this
blessed night. Whisht! do you hear how the wind comes sweeping over the
hills? God help the poor souls at say!
Wissha amen! replied Tims wife, dropping her knitting, and devoutly
making the sign of the cross upon her forehead.
A silence of a few moments ensued; during which, each person present
offered up a secret prayer for the safety of those who might at that
moment be exposed to the fury of the warring elements.
I should here inform my readers that the cottage of Tim Carthy was
situated in the deep valley which runs inland from the strand at
Monkstown, a pretty little bathing village, that forms an interesting
object on the banks of the romantic Lee, near the beautiful city of
Cork.
[pg 243]
I never heard such a jearful storm since the night Mahoon, the ould
giant, who lives in the cave under the Giants Stairs, sunk the three
West Ingee-men that lay at anchor near the rocks, observed Mrs. Carthy.
Its Felix can tell us, if he plazes, a quare story about that same
Mahoon, added Tim, addressing himself to the young man.
Youre right there, anyhow, Tim, replied Felix; and as my pipe is
just out, Ill give you the whole truth of the story as if I was after
kissing the book upon it.
You must know, then, it was one fine morning near Midsummer, about five
years ago, that I got up very airly to go down to the beach and launch
my boat, for I meant to try my luck at fishing for conger eels under the
Giants Stairs. I wasnt long pulling to the spot, and I soon had my
lines baited and thrown out; but not so much as a bite did I get to keep
up my spirits all that blessed morning, till I was fairly kilt with
fatigue and disappointment. Well, I was thinking of returning home
again, when all at once I felt something mortial heavy upon one of my
lines. At first I thought it was a big conger, but then I knew that no
fish would hang so dead upon my hand, so I hauled in with fear and
thrembling, for I was afeard every minnit my line or my hook would
break, and at last I got my prize to the top of the water, and then safe
upon the gunnel of the boat;and what do you think it was?
In troth, Felix, sorra one of us knows.
Well, then, it was nothing else but a little dirty black oak box,
hooped round with iron, and covered with say-weed and barnacles, as if
it had lain a long time in the water. Oh, ho! says myself, its in
rale good luck I am this beautiful morning. Phew! as sure as turf, tis
full of goold, or silver, or dollars, the box is. For, by dad, it was
so heavy intirely I could scarcely move it, and it sunk my little boat
amost to the waters edge; so I pulled back for bare life to the shore,
and ran the boat into a lonesome little creek in the rocks. There I
managed somehow to heave out the little box upon dry land, and, finding
a handy lump of a stone, I wasnt long smashing the iron fastenings, and
lifting up the lid. I looked in, and saw a weeshy ould weasened fellow
sitting in it, with his legs gothered up under him like a tailor. He was
dressed in a green coat, all covered with goold lace, a red scarlet
waistcoat down to his hips, and a little three-cornered cocked hat upon
the top of his head, with a cocks feather sticking out of it as smart
as you plase.
Good morrow to you, Felix Donovan, says the small chap, taking off
his hat to me, as polite as a dancing-masther.
Musha! then the tip top of the morning to you, says I, its ashamed
of yourself you ought to be, for putting me to such a dale of throuble.
Dont mention it, Felix, says he, Ill be proud to do as much for
you another time. But why dont you open the box, and let me out? tis
many a long day I have been shut up here in this could dark place. All
the time I was only holding the lid partly open.
Thank you kindly, my tight fellow, says myself, quite cute; maybe
you think I dont know you, but plase God youll not stir a peg out of
where you are until you pay me for my throuble.
Millia murdher! says the little chap. What could a poor crather like
me have in the world? Havent I been shut up here without bite or sup?
and then he began howling and bating his head agin the side of the box,
and making most pitiful moans. But I wasnt to be deceived by his
thricks, so I put down the lid of the box and began to hammer away at
it, when he roared out,
Tare an agers! Felix Donovan, sure you wont be so cruel as to shut
me up again? Open the box, man, till I spake to you.
Well, what do you want now! savs I, lifting up the lid the laste
taste in life.
Ill tell you what, Felix, Ill give you twenty goolden guineas if
youll let me out.
Soft was your horn, my little fellow; your offer dont shoot.
Ill give you fifty.
No.
A hundred.
T wont do. If you were to offer me all the money in the Cork bank I
wouldnt take it.
What the diaoul will you take then? says the little ould chap,
reddening like a turkey-cock in the gills with anger.
Ill tell you, says I, making answer; Ill take the three best gifts
that you can bestow.
(To be continued.)
Why is a butcher like a language master?Because he is a retailer of
tongues.
THE KNATCHBULL TESTIMONIAL. A meeting, unequalled in numbers and
respectability, was held during the past week at the sign of The
Conservative Cauliflower, Duck-lane, Westminster, for the purpose of
presenting an address, and anything else, that the meeting might decide
upon, to Sir Edward Knatchbull, for his patriotic opposition to pikes.
Mr. ADAM BELL, the well-known literary dustman, was unanimously called
to the Chair. The learned gentleman immediately responded to the call,
and having gracefully removed his fan tail with one hand and his pipe
with the other, bowed to the assembled multitude, and deposited himself
in the seat of honour. As there was no hammer in the room, the inventive
genius of the learned chairman, suggested the substitution of his bell,
and having agitated its clapper three times, and shouted Orger with
stentorian emphasis, he proceeded to address the meeting:
Wedgetable wendors and purweyors of promiscus poulte-ry, it isnt often
that a cheer is taken in this room for no other than harmonic meetings
or club-nights, and it is, therefore, with oncommon pride that I feels
myself in my present proud persition. (Werry good! and Hear, hear!) You
are all pretty well aware of my familiar acquaintance with the nobs of
this here great nation. (We is! and cheers.) For some years Ive had the
honour to collect for Mr. Dark, night and day, I may say; and in my mind
the werry best standard of a real gentleman is his dust-hole. (Hear,
hear! and Hes vide avake!) Youre hailed, continued the eloquent Adam,
youre hailed by a sarvant in a dimity jacket; you pulls up alongside
of the curb; you collars your basket, and with your shovel in your
mawley, makes a cast into the hairy; one glance at the dust conwinces
you vether youre to have sixpence or a swig of lamen-table beer. (It
does! and cheers.) A man as sifteses his dust is a disgrace to humanity!
(Immense cheering, which was rendered more exhilarating by the
introduction of Dirks dangle-dangles, otherwise bells.) But youll say,
Vot is this here to do with Sir Eddard? Ill tell you. It has been my
werry great happiness to clear out Sir Eddard, and werry well I was paid
for doing it. The Tories knows what jobs is, and pays according-ly.
(Here the Meeting gave the Conservative Costermonger fire.) The pinion
I then formed of Sir Eddard has jist been werrified, for hasnt he comed
forrard to oppose them rascally taxes on commercial industry and
Fairlop-fairon enterprising higgling and twelve in a tax-cart? need I
say I alludes to them blessed pikes? (Long and continued cheers.) Sir
Eddard is fully aware that the pike-men didnt make the dirt that makes
the road, and werry justly refuses to fork out tuppence-hapenny! Its
werry true Sir Eddard says that the tother taxes must be paid, as
whats to pay the ministers? But its highly unreasonable that pike-men
is to be put alongside of Prime Ministers, wedgetable wendors, and
purveyors of promiscus polte-ry! Had that great man succeeded in bilking
the toll, what a thing it would ha been for us! Gatter is but 3d. a
pot, and thats the price of a reasonable pike-ticket. That wenerable
and wenerated liquor as bears the cognominum of Old Tom is come-atable
for the walley of them werry browns. But Sir Eddard has failed in his
bould endeavourthe pikes has it! (Shame!) Its for us to reward him. I
therefore proposes that a collection of turnpike tickets is made, and
then elegantly mounted, framed and glaziered, and presented to the Right
Honourable Barrownight. (Immense applause.)
Mr. ALEC BILL JONES, the celebrated early-tater and spring-ingen dealer,
seconded the proposition, at the same time suggesting that Old pike-
tickets would do as well as new uns; and everybody knowd that second-
hand tumpike-tickets warnt werry waluable, so the thing could be done
handsome and reasonable.
A collection was immediately commenced in the room, and in a few minutes
the subscription included the whole of the Metropolitan trusts, together
with three Waterloo-bridge tickets, which the donor stated could ony be
ad for axing for.
A deputation was then formed for the purpose of presenting this unique
testimonial when completed to Sir Edward Knatchbull.
It is rumoured that the lessees of the gates in the neighbourhood of the
Metropolis are trying to get up a counter meeting. We have written to
Mr. Levy on the subject.
MUSICAL NEWS (NOOSE). We perceive from a foreign paper that a criminal
who has been imprisoned for a considerable period at Presburg has
acquired a complete mastery over the violin. It has been announced that
he will shortly make an appearance in public. Doubtless, his performance
will be a solo on one string.
[pg 244] THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE LONDON MEDICAL STUDENT. 10.THE
TERMINATION OF THE HALL EXAMINATION. A person stands with arms
outstretched holding a knife in each hand to form a letter T he morning
after the carousal reported in our last chapter, the parties thereat
assisting are dispersed in various parts of London. Did a modern
Asmodeus take a spectator to any elevated point from which he could
overlook the Great Metropolis of Mr. Grant and England just at this
period, when Aurora has not long called the sun, who rises as surlily as
if he had got out of bed the wrong way, he would see Mr. Rapp ruminating
upon things in general whilst seated on some cabbages in Covent Garden
Market; Mr. Jones taking refreshment with a lamplighter and two cabmen
at a promenade coffee-stand near Charing Cross, to whom he is giving a
lecture upon the action of veratria in paralysis, jumbled somehow or
other with frequent asseverations that he shall at all times be happy to
see the aforesaid lamplighter and two cabmen at the hospital or his own
lodgings; Mr. Manhug, with a pocket-handkerchief tied round his head,
not clearly understanding what has become of his latch-key, but rather
imagining that he threw it into a lamp instead of the short pipe which
still remains in the pocket of his pea-jacket, and, moreover, finding
himself close to London Bridge, is taking a gratuitous doze in the cabin
of the Boulogne steam-boat, which he ascertains does not start until
eight oclock; whilst Mr. Simpson, the new man, with the usual destiny
of such green productionsthirsty, nauseated, and coming roundis
safely taken care of in one of the small private unfurnished apartments
which are let by the night on exceedingly moderate terms (an
introduction by a policeman of known respectability being all the
reference that is required) in the immediate neighbourhood of the Bow-
street Police-office. Where Mr. Muff isit is impossible to form the
least idea; he may probably speak for himself.
The reader will now please to shift the time and place to two oclock
P.M. in the dissecting-room, which is full of students, comprising three
we have just spoken of, except Mr. Simpson. A message has been received
that the anatomical teacher is unavoidably detained at an important case
in private practice, and cannot meet his class to day. Hereupon there is
much rejoicing amongst the pupils, who gather in a large semicircle
round the fireplace, and devise various amusing methods of passing the
time. Some are for subscribing to buy a set of four-corners, to be
played in the museum when the teachers are not there, and kept out of
sight in an old coffin when they are not wanted. Others vote for getting
up sixpenny sweepstakes, and raffling for them with dicethe winner of
each to stand a pot out of his gains, and add to the goodly array of
empty pewters which already grace the mantelpiece in bright order, with
the exception of two irregulars, one of which Mr. Rapp has squeezed flat
to show the power of his hand; and in the bottom of the other Mr. Manhug
has bored a foramen with a red-hot poker in a laudable attempt to warm
the heavy that it contained. Two or three think they had better adjourn
to the nearest slate table and play a grand pool; and some more vote for
tapping the preparations in the museum, and making the porter of the
dissecting-room intoxicated with the grog manufactured from the proof
spirit. The various arguments are, however, cut short by the entrance of
Mr. Muff, who rushes into the room, followed by Mr. Simpson, and
throwing off his macintosh cape, pitches a large fluttering mass of
feathers into the middle of the circle.
Halloo, Muff! how are you, my beanwhats up? is the general
exclamation.
Oh, heres a lark! is all Mr. Muffs reply.
Lark! cries Mr. Rapp; youre drunk, Muffyou dont mean to call that
a lark!
Its a beautiful patriarchal old hen, returns Mr. Muff, that I
bottled as she was meandering down the mews; and now I vote we have her
for lunch. Whos game to kill her?
Various plans are immediately suggested, including cutting her head off,
poisoning her with morphia, or shooting her with a little cannon Mr Rapp
has got in his locker; but at last the majority decide upon hanging her.
A gibbet is speedily prepared, simply consisting of a thigh-bone laid
across two high stools; a piece of whip cord is then noosed round the
victims neck; and she is launched into eternity, as the newspapers
sayMr. Manhug attending to pull her legs.
Depend upon it thats a humane death, remarks Mr. Jones. I never
tried to strangle a fowl but once, and then I twisted its neck bang off.
I know a capital plan to finish cats though.
Throw it offput it uplets have it, exclaim the circle.
Well, then; you must get their necks in a slip knot and pull them up to
a key-hole. They cant hurt you, you know, because you are the other
side the door.
Oh, capitalquite a wrinkle, observes Mr. Muff. But how do you catch
them first?
Put a hamper outside the leads with some valerian in it, and a bit of
cord tied to the lid. If you keep watch, you may bag half-a-dozen in no
time; and strange cats are fair game for everybody,only some of them
are rum uns to bite.
At this moment, a new Scotch pupil, who is lulling himself into the
belief that he is studying anatomy from some sheeps eyes by himself in
the Museum, enters the dissecting-room, and mildly asks the porter what
a heart is worth?
I dont know, sir, shouts Mr. Rapp; it depends entirely upon whats
trumps; whereupon the new Scotch pupil retires to his study as if he
was shot, followed by several pieces of cinders and tobacco-pipe,
During the preceding conversation, Mr. Muff cuts down the victim with a
scalpel; and, finding that life has departed, commences to pluck it, and
perform the usual post-mortem abdominal examinations attendant upon such
occasions. Mr. Rapp undertakes to manufacture an extempore spit, from
the rather dilapidated umbrella of the new Scotch pupil, which he has
heedlessly left in the dissecting-room. This being completed, with the
assistance of some wire from the ribs of an old skeleton that had hung
in a corner of the room ever since it was built, the hen is put down to
roast, presenting the most extraordinary specimen of trussing upon
record. Mr. Jones undertakes to buy some butter at a shop behind the
hospital; and Mr. Manhug, not being able to procure any flour, gets some
starch from the cabinet of the lecturer on Materia Medica, and powders
it in a mortar which he borrows from the laboratory.
To revert to cats, observes Mr. Manhug, as he sets himself before the
fire to superintend the cooking; it strikes me we could contrive no end
to fun if we each agreed to bring some here one day in carpet-bags. We
could drive in plenty of dogs, and cocks, and hens, out of the back
streets, and then let them all loose together in the dissecting-room.
With a sprinkling of rats and ferrets, adds Mr. Rapp. I know a man
who can let us have as many as we want. The skrimmage would be immense,
only I shouldnt much care to stay and see it.
Oh thats nothing, replies Mr. Muff. Of course, we must get on the
roof and look at it through the skylights. You may depend upon it, it
would be the finest card we ever played.
How gratifying to every philanthropist must be these proofs of the
elasticity of mind peculiar to a Medical Student! Surrounded by scenes
of the most impressive and deplorable naturein constant association
with death and contact with diseasehis noble spirit, in the ardour of
his search after professional information, still retains its buoyancy
and freshness; and he wreaths with roses the hours which he passes in
the dissecting-room, although the world in general looks upon it as a
rather unlikely locality for those flowers to shed their perfume over!
By the way, Muff, where did you get to last night after we all cut?
inquires Mr. Rapp.
Why, thats what I am rather anxious to find out myself, replies Mr.
Muff; but I think I can collect tolerably good reminiscences of my
travels.
Tell us all about it then, cry three or four.
With pleasureonly lets have in a little more beer; for the heat of
the fire in cooking produces rather too rapid an evaporation of fluids
from the surface of the body.
Oh, blow your physiology! says Rapp. You mean to say youve got a hot
copperso have I. Send for the precious balm, and then fire away.
And accordingly, when the beer arrives, Mr. Muff proceeds with the
recital of his wanderings.
LOVE AND HYMEN. Cupid (that charming little garcon),
When free, is amrous, brisk, and gay;
But when hes noosd by Hymens parson,
Snores like Glenelg, or flies away.
[pg 245] OUR CITY ARTICLE. An alarming forgery of Mendicity Societys
tickets has been discovered in Red Lion Square, and has caused much
conversation at the doors of most of the gin palaces. Our readers are
probably aware what these tickets are, though, being a particular class
of security, there is not a great deal publicly done in them. They are
issued to certain subscribers, who pay a guinea per year towards housing
a Secretary and some other officers in a moderate-sized house, in the
kitchen of which certain soup is prepared, which is partaken of by a
number of persons called the Board, who are said to taste it and see
that it is good; and if there is any left, which may occasionally
happen, the poor are allowed to finish it. This valuable privilege is
secured by tickets; and these tickets are found to be forged to a very
large amountsome say indeed to the amount of 14,000 basins. It is not
usual to pay off these soup tickets, but a sort of interest can be had
upon them by standing just over the railings of the house in Red Lion
Square, when the Secretarys dinner is being cooked or served up, and a
certain amount of savoury steam is then put into circulation. The house
has been besieged all day with innocent holders, who, on giving their
tickets in, cannot get them back again. The genuine tickets are known by
the stamp, which is a soup plate rampant, and a spoon argent,the latter
being the emblem of the subscribers.
A great deal is said of a new company, whose object is to take advantage
of a well-known fact in chemistry. It is known that diamonds can be
resolved into charcoal, as well as that charcoal can be ultimately
reduced to air; and a company is to be founded with the view of simply
reversing the process. Instead of getting air from diamonds, their
object will be to get diamonds from air; and in fact the chief promoters
of it have generally drawn from that source the greater part of their
capital. The whole sum for shares need not be paid up at once; but the
Directors will be satisfied in the first instance with 10 per cent. on
the whole sum to be raised from the adventurers. It is intended to
declare a dividend at the earliest possible period, which will be
directly the first diamond has been made by the new process.
CON. BY SIBTHORP AND STULTZ. Why are batteries and soldiers like the
hands and feet of tailors?Because the former make breaches (breeches),
and the latter pass through them.
THE ROMANCE OF A TEACUP. SIP THE THIRD. GOS-SIP. That hour devoted to
thy vesper service
Dulcet exhilaration! glorious tea!
I deem my happiest. Howsoeer I swerve, as
To mind or morals, elsewhere, over thee
I am a perfect creature, quite impervious
To care, or tribulation, or ennui
In fact, I do agnize to thee an utter
Devotion even to the bread and butter.
The homely kettle hissing on the bar
(Urns I detest, irrelevant pomposities)
The world beyond the window-blinds, as far
As I can thrust itthis defines what cosset is
What woe that rhyme such scene of bliss must mar!
But rhyme, alas! is one of my atrocities;
In common with those bards who have the scratch
Of writing, and are all right with Catnach.
How Nancy Sniggles was the village pride,
How Will, her sweetheart, went to be a sailor;
How much at parting Nancy Sniggles cried,
And how she snubbd her funny friend the tailor;
How William boldly fought and bravely died;
How Nancy Sniggles felt her senses fail her
Then comes a sad dénouementnow-a-days
It is not virtue dominant that pays.
Such tales, in this, the post-octavo age,
Our novelists incontinently tells us
Tales, wherein lovely heroines engage
With highwaymen, good-looking rogues but callous,
Who go on swimmingly till the last page,
And then take poison to escape the gallows
Tales, whose original refinement teaches
The pride of eloquence indying speeches!
What an apotheosis have we here!
What equal laws th awards of fame dispose!
Capture a fortassassinate a peer
Alike be chronicled in startling prose
Alike be dramatised(how near
Is clever crime to virtue!)at Tussauds
Be grouped with all the criminals at large,
From burglar Sheppard unto fiend Laffarge!
The women are best judges after all!
And Sheridan was right, and Plagi-ary;
To their decision all things mundane fall,
From court to counting-house; from square to dairy;
From caps to chemistry; from tract to shawl,
And then these female verdicts never vary!
In fact, on lap-dogs, lovers, buhl, and boddices,
There are no critics like these mortal goddesses!
To please such readers, authors make it answer
To trace a pedigree to the creation
Of some old Saxon peer; a monstrous grandsire,
Whose battles tell, in print, to admiration
But I, unfortunate, have never once a
Mysterious hint of any great relation;
I know whether Shem or Japhetright sir
Was my progenitornor care a kreutzer.
For, though theres matter for regret in losing
An opportune occasion to record
The feats in gambling, duelling, seducing
Conventional acquirements of a lord
Still I have stories startling and amusing,
Which I can tell and vouch, upon my word.
To anybody who desires to hear em
But dont be nervous, pray,you neednt fear em.
But what of my poor Hy-son all this while?
She saved the gardener by a timely kiss.
Few husbands are there proof against a smile,
And Te-potts rage endured no more than this.
Ah, reader! gentle, moral, free from guile,
Think you she did so very much amiss?
She was not love-sick for the fellow quite
She merely thought of himfrom morn till night!
A state of mind how much by parents dreaded!
(By those outrageous parents, English mammas,
Who scarcely own their daughters till theyre wedded)
How postulant of patent Chubbs and Bramahs!
And eyesthe safest locks when locks are needed!
And Abigails, and homilies, and grammars;
And other antidotes for detrimentals
Id est, fine gentlemen unblest with rentals.
But this could not stop here; nor did it stop
For both were anxious foran explanation.
And in the harems grating was a gap,
Whence Hy-son peepd in modest hesitation;
While on his spade the gardener would prop
Himself, and issue looks of adoration;
Until it happend, like a lucky rhyme,
Each for the other lookd at the same time.
Then fell the gardener upon his knees,
And kissd his hand in manner most devout
So Hy-son couldnt find the heart to tease
The poor dear man by being in a pout;
Besides, she might go walk among the trees,
And not a word of scandal be made out.
She thought averylittle more upon it,
Then smiled to Sou-chong,and put on her bonnet.
PUNCH AND THE SWISS GIANTESS! SHERIFFS COURT.WEDNESDAY. BONBON versus
PUNCH. [This important cause came on for trial on Wednesday last. That
it has not been reported in the morning papers is doubtless to be
attributed to the most reckless bribery on the part of the plaintiff. He
has, no doubt, sought to hush up his infamy; the defendant has no such
contemptible cowardice. Hence a special reporter was engaged for PUNCH.
The trial is given here, firstly, for the beautiful illustration it
affords of the philosophy of the English law of crim. con.; and secondly
on a principlefor PUNCH has principleslaid down by the defendant in
his course of public life, to show himself to the world the man he
really is. In pursuit of this moral and philosophical object, should the
waywardness of his genius ever induce PUNCH to cut a throat, pick a
pocket, or, as a Middlesex magistrate (for PUNCH has been upon the bench
many a year), to offer for sale a tempting lot of liberty to any
competent captive,should PUNCH rob as a vulgar Old Bailey delinquent,
or genteelly swindle as an Aldermanic share-holder,in each and every of
these cases there will, on discovery, be the fullest report of the same
in PUNCHS own paper, PUNCH being deeply impressed with the belief that
an exhibition of the weaknesses of a great man [pg 246] is highly
beneficial to public philosophy and public morals. PUNCH now retires in
favour of his own reporter.]
As early as six oclock in the morning, the neighbourhood of the court
presented a most lively and bustling aspect. Carriages continued to
arrive from the west-end; and we recognised scores of ladies whose names
are familiar to the readers of the Court Journal and Morning Post.
Several noblemen, amateurs of the subject, arrived on horseback. By
eight oclock the four sides of Red Lion-square were, if we may be
allowed the metaphor, a mass of living heads. We owe a debt of gratitude
to Mr. Davis, the respected and conscientious officer for the Sheriff of
Middlesex; that gentleman, in the kindest spirit of hospitality,
allowing us six inches of his door-step when the crowd was at its
greatest pressure. Several inmates of Mr. Daviss delightful mansion had
a charming view of the scene from the top windows, where we observed
bars of the most picturesque and moyen age description. At ten minutes
to nine, Mr. Charles Phillips, counsel for the plaintiff, arrived in
Lambs Conduit-passage, and was loudly cheered. On the appearance of Mr.
Adolphus, counsel for the defendant, a few miscreants in human shape
essayed groans and hisses; they were, however, speedily put down by the
New Police.
We entered the court at nine oclock. The galleries were crowded with
rank, beauty, and fashion. Conflicting odours of lavender, musk, and Eau
de Cologne emanated from ladies on the bench, most of whom were
furnished with opera-glasses, sandwich-boxes, and species of flasks,
vulgarly known as pocket-pistols. In all our experience we never
recollect such a thrill as that shot through the court, when the crier
of the same called out
BONBON v. PUNCH! Mr. SMITH (a young yet rising barrister with green
spectacles) with delicate primness opened the case. A considerable
pause, when
Mr. CHARLES PHILLIPS, having successfully struggled with his feelings,
rose to address the court for the plaintiff. The learned gentleman said
it had been his hard condition as a barrister to see a great deal of
human wickedness; but the case which, most reluctantly, he approached
that day, made him utterly despair of the heart of man. He felt ashamed
of his two legs, knowing that the defendant in this case was a biped. He
had a horror of the mysterious iniquities of human natureseeing that
the defendant was a man, a housekeeper, and, what in this case trebled
his infamy, a husband and a father. Gracious Heaven! when he
reflectedbut no; he would confine himself to a simple statement of
facts. That simplicity would tell with a double-knock on the hearts of a
susceptible jury. The afflicted, the agonised plaintiff was a public
man. He was, until lately, the happy possessor of a spotless wife and an
inimitable spring-van. It was was a union assented to by reason, smiled
on by prudence. Mr. Bonbon was the envied owner of a perambulating
exhibition: he counted among his riches a Spotted Boy, a New Zealand
Cannibal, and a Madagascar Cow. The crowning rose was, however, to be
gathered, and he plucked, and (as he fondly thought) made his own for
ever, the Swiss Giantess! Mr. Bonbon had wealth in his vanthe lady had
wealth in herself; hence it was, in every respect, what the world would
denominate an equal match.
The learned counsel said he would call witnesses to prove the blissful
atmosphere in which the parties lived, until the defendant, like a
domestic upas-tree, tainted and polluted it. That van was another Eden,
until PUNCH, the serpent, entered. The lady was a native of
Switzerlandyes, of Switzerland. Oh, that he (the learned gentleman)
could follow her to her early home!that he could paint her with the
first blush and dawn of innocence, tinting her virgin cheek as the
morning sun tinted the unsullied snows of her native Jungfrau!that he
could lead the gentlemen of the jury to that Swiss cottage where the
gentle Félicité (such was the ladys name) lisped her early prayerthat
he could show them the mountains that had echoed with her songs (since
made so very popular by Madame Stockhausen)that he could conjure up in
that court the goats whose lacteal fluid was wont to yield to the
pressure of her virgin fingersthe kids that gambolled and made holiday
about herthe birds that whistled in her paththe streams that flowed at
her feetthe avalanches, with their majestic thunder, that fell about
her. Would he could subpoena such witnesses! then would the jury feel,
what his poor words could never make them feelthe loss of his injured
client. On one hand would be seen the simple Swiss maidena violet among
the rocksa mountain dovean inland pearla rainbow of the glaciersa
creature pure as her snows, but not as cold; and on the other the fallen
wifea monument of shame! This was a commercial country; and the jury
would learn with additional horror that it was in the sweet confidence
of a commercial transaction that the defendant obtained access to his
interesting victim. Yes, gentlemen, (said Mr. P.,) it was under the
base, the heartless, the dastardly excuse of business, that the
plaintiff poured his venom in the ear of a too confiding woman. He had
violated the sacred bonds of human societythe noblest ties that hold
the human heartthe sweetest tendrils that twine about human affections.
This should be shown to the jury. Letters from the plaintiff would be
read, in which his heartor rather that ace of spades he carried in his
breast and called his heartwould be laid bare in open court. But the
gentlemen of the jury would teach a terrible lesson that day. They would
show that the socialist should not guide his accursed bark into the
tranquil seas of domestic comfort, and anchor it upon the very
hearthstone of conjugal felicity. Noas the gentlemen of the jury were
husbands and fathers, as they were fathers and not husbands, as they
were neither one nor the other, but hoped to be boththey would that day
hurl such a thunderbolt at the pocket of the defendantthey would so
thrice-gild the incurable ulcers of the plaintiff, that all the
household gods of the United Empire would hymn them to their mighty
rest, and Hymen himself keep continual carnival at their amaranthine
hearths. Gentlemen of the jury (said the learned counsel in
conclusion), I leave you with a broken heart in your hands! A broken
heart, gentlemen! Creations masterpiece, flawed cracked, SHIVERED TO
BITS! See how the blood flows from itmark where its strings are cut and
cutits delicate fibres violatedits primitive aroma evaporated to all
the winds of heaven. Make that heart your own, gentlemen, and say at how
many pounds you value the demoniac damage. And oh, may your verdict
still entitle you to the blissful confidence of that divine, purpureal
sex, the fairest floral specimens of which I see before me! May their
unfolding fragrance make sweet your daily bread; and when you die, from
the tears of conjugal love, may thyme and sweet marjoram spring and
blossom above your graves!
Here the emotion of the court was unparalleled in the memory of the
oldest attorney. Showers of tears fell from the gallery, so that there
was a sudden demand for umbrellas.
The learned counsel sat down, and, having wiped his eyes, ate a
sandwich.
There were other letters, but we have selected the least glowing. Mr.
Charles Phillips then called his witnesses.
Peter Snooks examined: Was employed by plaintiff; recollected defendant
coming to the van to propose a speculation, in which Madame Bonbon was
to play with him. Defendant came very often when plaintiff was out. Once
caught Madame Bonbon on defendants knee. Once heard Madame Bonbon say,
Bless your darling nose! Was sure it was defendants nose. Was shocked
at her levity, but consented to go for ginMadame found the money. Had a
glass myself, and drank their healths. Plaintiff never beat his wife; he
couldnt: they were of very uneven habits; she was seven feet four,
plaintiff was four feet seven.
Cross-examined by Mr. Adolphus: Plaintiff was dreadfully afflicted at
infidelity of his wife: had become quite desperatenever sober since;
was never sober before. On first night of the news plaintiff was quite
delirious; took six plates of alamode beef, and two pots of porter.
Sarah Pillowcase examined: Was chambermaid at the Tinder-box and Flint,
New Cut; had known defendant since she was a childalso knew plaintiffs
wife. They came together on the 1st of April, about twelve at night.
Understood they had been in a private box at the Victoria with an order.
They had twelve dozen of oysters for supper, and eight Welch-rabbits:
the lady found the money. Thought, of course, they were married, or
would rather have died than have served them. They made a hearty
breakfast: the lady found the money.
Cross-examined by Mr. Adolphus: Would swear to the lady, as she had once
paid a shilling to see her.
(Here it was intimated by the learned judge that ladies might leave the
court if they chose; it was evident, however, that no lady heard such
intimation, as no lady stirred.)
Cross-examination continued: Yes, would swear it. Knew the obligation of
an oath, and would swear it.
This ended the case for the plaintiff.
Mr. ADOLPHUS addressed the court for the defendant. He had not the
golden tongueno, he was not blessed with the oratory of his learned
friend. He would therefore confine himself to the common sense view of
the question. He was not talking to Arcadian shepherds (he was very
happy to see his own butcher in the jury-box), but to men of business.
If there had been any arts practised, it was on the side of the
plaintiffs wife. His client had visited the plaintiff out of pure
compassion. The plaintiffs show was a failing concern; his client, with
a benevolence which had marked his long career, wished to give him the
benefit of his own attractions, joined to those of the woman. Well, the
plaintiff knew the value of money, and therefore left his wife and the
defendant to arrange the affair between them. Gentlemen of the jury,
continued the learned counsel, it must appear to you, that on the part
of the plaintiff this is not an affair of the heart, but a matter of the
breeches pocket. He leaves his wifea fascinating, versatile
creaturewith my client, I confess it, an acknowledged man of gallantry.
Well, the result iswhat was to be expected. My learned friend has
dwelt, with his accustomed eloquence, on his clients broken heart. I
will not speak of his heart; but I must say that the man who, bereaved
of the partner of his bosom, can still eat six plates of alamode beef,
must have a most excellent stomach. Gentlemen, beware of giving heavy
damages in this case, or otherwise you will unconsciously be the
promoters of great immorality. This is no paradox, gentlemen; for I am
credibly informed that if the man succeed in getting large damages, he
will immediately take his wife home to his bosom and his van, and
instead of exhibiting her, as he has hitherto done, for one penny, he
will, on the strength of the notoriety of this trial, and as a man
knowing the curiosity of society, immediately advance that penny to
threepence. You will, therefore, consider your verdict, gentlemen, and
give such moderate damages as will entirely mend the plaintiffs broken
heart.
The jury, without retiring from the box, returned a verdict of Damages
One Farthing!
We are credibly informedthough the evidence was not adduced in
courtthat Monsieur Bonbon first suspected his dishonour from his wifes
hair papers. She had most negligently curled her tresses in the soft
paper epistles of her innamorato.
[pg 247] PUNCHS PENCILLINGS.No. XXI. A man with Cupid's wings sits in
a chair picking his teeth with an arrow. A quiver is marked 'Protocols'
CUPID OUT OF PLACE.
From a Sketch made in THE PALMERSTON GALLERY.
[pg 249] THE FETES FOR THE POLISHAND FATE OF THE BRITISH POOR. Charity
begins at home, says, or rather said, an admirable old proverb; but
alack! the adage, or the times, or both, are out of jointthe wholesome
maxim has lost its forceand homes for Charity must now be far as the
Poles asunder, ere the benign influence of the weeping goddess can fall
upon its wretched supplicants.
In private life the neglect of a domestic hearth for the vainglorious
squandering abroad of the means that could and ought to render that the
chief seat of comfort and independence, calls down upon the thoughtless
and heartless squanderer and abuser of his means the just indignation
and merited contempt of every thinking and properly constituted mind.
The Charity that does not begin at home is the worst species of
unjustifiable prodigality, and the first step to the absolute ruin of
the nearest and dearest for the sake of the profligate and abandoned.
And no sophistry can justify the apparent liberality that deprives
others of their just and urgent dues.
It may be and is most noble to feed the widow and to clothe the orphan;
but where is the beneficence of the deed if the wife and children of the
ostentatious donorthe victims of the performance of such actsare left
themselves to endure misery and privations, from which his inadequate
means cannot exempt the stranger and the givers own household!
The sparrow who unwittingly rears the cuckoos spurious offspring,
tending with care the ultimate destroyer of its own young, does so in
perfect ignorance of the results about to follow the misplaced
affection. The cravings of the interloper are satisfied to the detriment
of its own offspring; and when the full-fledged recipient of its
misplaced bounty no longer needs its aid, the thankless stranger wings
its way on its far-off course, selfishly careless of the fostering bird
that brought it into life; and this may be looked upon as one of the
results generally attendant upon a blind forgetfulness of where our
first endeavours for the amelioration of the wants of others should be
made.
It has ever been the crying sin of the vastly sympathetic to weep for
the miseries of the distant, and blink at the wretchedness their eyesif
not their heartsmust ache to see. Their charity must have its proper
stage, their sentiments the proper objects,and their imaginations the
undisturbed right to revel in the supposititious grievances of the far-
off wretched and oppressed. The poor black man! the tortured slave! the
benighted infidel! the debased image of his maker! the sunken bondsman!
These terms must be the Open sesame for the breasts from whence spring
bibles, bribes, blankets, glass beads, pocket-combs, tracts, teachers,
missions, and missionaries. Oppression is what they would put down; but
then the oppression must be of foreign manufacture. Your English,
genuine home-made article, though as superior in strength and endurance
as our own canvas is to the finest fold of gauze-like cambric, is in
their opinion a thing not worth a thought. A half oppressed Caffre is an
object of ten thousand times more sympathy than a wholly oppressed
Englishman; a half-starved Pole the more fitting recipient of the same
proportion of actual bounty to a wholly starving peasant of our own land
of law and liberty.
Let one-tenth the disgusting details so nobly exposed in the Times
newspaper, as to the frightful state of some of our legalised poor law
inquisitions, appear as extracts from the columns of a foreign journal,
stating such treatment to exist amongst a foreign population, and mark
the result. Why, the town would teem with meetings and the papers with
speeches. Royal, noble, and honourable chairmen and vice chairmen would
launch out their just anathemas against the heartless despots whose
realms were disgraced by such atrocities. Think, think of the aged poor
torn from their kindred, caged in a prison, refused all aid within,
debarred from every hope without,think of the flesh, the very flesh,
rotting by slow degrees, and then in putrid masses falling from their
wretched bones: think, we say, on thisthen give what name you can, save
murder, to their quickly succeeding death.
Fancy childrenchildren that should be in their primeso caged and fed
that the result is disease in its most loathsome form, and with all its
most appalling consequences! No hope! no flight! The yet untainted, as
it were, chained to the spot, with mute despair watching the slow
infection, and with breaking hearts awaiting the hourthe momentwhen it
must reach to them!
We say, think of these thingsnot as if they were the doings in England,
and therefore legalised matters of coursebut think of them as the arts
of some despot in a far-off colony, and oh, how all hearts would
burnall tongues curse and call for vengeance on the abetors of such
atrocities!
The supporters of the rights of man would indeed pour forth their
eloquent denunciations against the oppressors of the absent. The poetry
of passion would be exhausted to depict the frightful state of the
crimeless and venerable victim of tyranny, bowing his grey hairs with
sorrow to the grave; while the wailing of the helpless innocents
different indeed in colour, but in heart and spirit like ourselves,
being sprung from the one great source, would echo throughout the land,
and find responses in every bosom not lost to the kindly feelings of
good-will towards its fellows! Had the would-be esteemed philanthropists
but these foreign cues for passion, they would indeed
Drown the stage with tears,
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech;
Make mad the guilty, and appal the free;
Confound the ignorant; and amaze, indeed,
The very faculties of eyes and ears.
But, alas! there is no such motive; these most destitute of
Destitutions children are simply fellow-countrymen and fellow-
Christians. Sons of the same soil, and worshippers of the same God, they
need no good works in the way of proselyzation to save them from eternal
perdition; consequently they receive no help to keep them from temporal
torture.
To convince themselves that these remarks are neither unwarrantably
severe, nor in the slightest degree overcharged, let our readers not
only refer to the revolting doings chronicled in the Times, but let them
find the further illustration of this foreign penchant in the recent
doings at the magnificently-attended ball given in behalf of the Polish
Refugees, and consequently commanding the support of the humane,
enlightened, and charitable English; and then let them cast their eyes
over the cold shoulder turned towards a proposition for the same act of
charity being consummated for the relief of the poverty-stricken and
starving families of the destitute and deserving artisans now literally
starving under their very eyes, located no farther off than in the
wretched locality of Spitalfields! An opinionand doubtless an honest
oneis given by the Lord Mayor, that any attempt to relieve their wants,
in the way found so efficacious for the Polish Refugees, would be
madness, inasmuch as it would, as heretofore, prove an absolute failure.
Reader, is there anything of the cuckoo and the sparrow in the above
assertion? Is it not true? And if it is so, is it not a more than crying
evil? Is it not a most vile blot upon our lawsa most beastly libel upon
our creed and our country? Is no relief ever to be given to the
immediate objects who should be the persons benefited by our bounty? Are
those who, in the prosperity proceeding from their unceasing and ill-
paid toil, added their quota to the succour of others, now that poverty
has fallen on them, to be left the sport of fortune and the slaves of
suffering? Do good, we say, in Gods name, to all, if good can be done
to all. But do not rob the lamb of its natural dueits mothers
nourishmentto waste it on an alien. There is no spirit of illiberality
in these remarks; they are put forward to advocate the rights of our own
destitute countrymento claim for them a share of the lavish
commiseration bestowed on othersto call attention to the desolation of
their hearthsthe wreck of their comfortsthe awful condition of their
starving and dependent familiesand to give the really charitable an
opportunity of reserving some of their kindnesses for home consumption.
Let this be their just object, and not one among the relieved would
withhold his mite from their suffering fellows in other climes. But in
Heavens name, let the adage root itself once more in every Englishmans
heart of hearts, and once more let Charity begin at home!
THE FIRE AT THE ADELPHI THEATRE. Yates was nearly treating the
enlightened British public with an antidote to the vast receptacle of
8,000 tons of water, by setting fire to the saloon chimney. Great as
the consternation of the audience was in the front, it was far exceeded
by the alarm of the actors behind the curtain, for they are so sensible
of the managers daring genius, that they concluded he had set fire to
the house in order to convert the space usually devoted to illusion
into the area of reality. The great Mr. Freeborn actually rushed out of
the theatre without his rouge. Little Paul drank off a glass of neat
water. Mr. John Sanders was met at the end of Maiden Lane, with his legs
thrust into the sleeves of his coat, and the rest of his body encased in
the upper part of a property dragon; whilst little round Wilkinson was
vainly endeavouring to squeeze himself into a wooden waterspout. Had he
succeeded he might have applied for the reward offered by the Royal
Society for a method of
A man holds up a broken hoop, part of which has been straightened into
an L shape. SQUARING THE CIRCLE.
[pg 250] THE CRIMES OF EATING. Two whales 'kiss' to form a letter S. ir
Robert Peel and her Majestys Ministers have, we learn, taken a hint in
criminal jurisprudence from his Worship the Mayor of Reading, and are
now preparing a bill for Parliament, which they trust will be the means
of checking the alarming desire for food which has begun to spread
amongst the poorer classes of society. The crime of eating has latterly
been indulged in to such an immoderate extent by the operatives of
Yorkshire and the other manufacturing districts, that we do not wonder
at our sagacious Premier adopting strong measures to suppress the
unnatural and increasing appetites of the people.
Taking up the sound judicial views of the great functionary above
alluded to, who committed Bernard Cavanagh, the fasting man, to prison
for smelling at a saveloy and a slice of ham, Sir Robert has laid down a
graduatedwe mean a slidingscale of penalties for the crime of eating,
proportioning, with the most delicate skill, the exact amount of the
punishment to the enormity of the offence. By his profound wisdom he has
discovered that the great increase of crime in these countries is
entirely attributable to over-feeding the multitude. Like the worthy Mr.
Bumble, in Oliver Twist, he protests it is meat and not madness that
ails the people. He can even trace the origin of every felony to the
particular kind of food in which the felon has indulged. He detects
incipient incendiarism in eggs and fried baconhomicide in an Irish
stewrobbery and house-breaking in a basin of mutton-brothand an
aggravated assault in a pork sausage. Upon this noble and statesmanlike
theory Sir Robert has based a bill which, when it becomes the law of the
land, will, we feel assured, tend effectually to keep the rebellious
stomachs of the people in a state of wholesome depletion. And as we now
punish those offenders who break the Queens peace, we shall, in like
manner, then inflict the law upon the hungry scoundrels who dare to
break the Queens Fast.
We have been enabled, through a private source, to obtain the following
authentic copy of Sir Roberts scale of the offences under the intended
Act, with the penalty attached to each, viz.:
For penny rolls or busters Imprisonment not exceeding a week. For bread
of any kind, with cheese or butter Imprisonment for a month. For
saveloys, German sausages, and Black puddings One month's imprisonment,
with hard labour. For a slice of ham, bacon, or meat of any kind
Imprisonment for three months, and exercise on the treadmill. For a
hearty dinner on beef and pudding Transportation for seven years. For
do. with a pot of home-brewed ale. Transportation for life. As these
offences apply only to those who have no right to eat, the wealthy and
respectable portion of society need be under no apprehension that they
will be exposed to any inconvenience by the operation of the new law.
NOBODY CARES AND* WELLINGTON has justified his claim to the sobriquet of
the iron Duke by the manner in which he treated the deputation from
Paisley. His Grace excused himself from listening to the tale of misery
which several gentlemen had travelled 500 miles to narrate to him, on
the plea that he was not a Minister of the Crown. Yet we have a right to
presume that the Queen prorogued Parliament upon his Graces
recommendation, so if he be not one of Peels Cabinet what is he? We
suppose
A man who is all nose. * NOBODY NOSE.
HINTS HOW TO ENJOY AN OMNIBUS. On getting in, care neither for toes or
knees of the passengers; but drive your way up to the top, steadying
yourself by the shoulders, chests, or even faces of those seated.
Seat yourself with a jerk, pushing against one neighbour, and thrusting
your elbow into the side of the other. You will thus get plenty of room.
If possible, enter with a stick or umbrella, pointed at full length; so
that any sudden move of the bus may thrust it into some ones stomach.
It will make you feared.
When seated, occupy, if possible, the room of two, and revenge the
treatment you have received on entering, by throwing every opposition in
the way of a new-comer, especially if it be a woman with a child in her
arms. It is a good plan to rest firmly on your umbrella, with your arms
at right angles.
Open or shut windows as it suits you; men with colds, or women with
toothaches, have no business in omnibuses. If they dont like it, they
can get out; no one forces them to ride.
Young bucks may stare any decent woman out of countenance, put their
legs up along the seats, and if going out to dinner, wipe the mud off
their boots on the seats. They are only plush.
If middle-aged gentlemen are musical or political, they can dislocate a
tune in something between a bark and a grumble, or endeavour to provoke
an argument by declaring very loudly that Lord R or the Duke is a
thorough scoundrel, according to their opinion of public affairs. If
this dont take, they can keep up a perpetual squabble with the
conductor, which will show they think themselves of some importance.
Ladies wishing to be agreeable can bring lap dogs, large paper parcels,
and children, to whom an omnibus is a ship, though you wish you were out
of their reach.
Conductors should particularly aim to take up laundresses returning with
a large family washing, bakers and butchers in their working jackets,
and, if a wet day, should be particular not to pull up to the pathway.
For want of space, the following brevities must suffice:Never say where
you wish to stop until after you have passed the place, and then pull
them up with a sudden jerk. Keep your money in your waistcoat-pocket,
and button your under and upper coat completely, and never attempt to
get at it until the door is opened, and then let it be nothing under a
five-shilling piece. Never ask any one to speak to the conductor for
you, but hit or poke him with your umbrella or stick, or rap his hand as
it rests on the door. He puts it there on purpose. Always stop the wrong
omnibus, and ask if the Paddington goes to Walworth, and the Kennington
to Whitechapel: you are not obliged to read all the rigmarole they paint
on the outside. Finally, consider an omnibus as a carriage, a bed, a
public-house, a place of amusement, or a boxing-ring, where you may
ride, sleep, smoke, chaff, or quarrel, as it may suit you.
PETER THE GREAT (FOOL?) The following colloquy occurred between a
candidate for suicidal fame and the Citys Peter Laureate:
So, sir, you tried to hang yourself, did you?
In course I did, or I should not have put my head in the noose.
You had no business to do so.
I did it for my pleasure, not for business.
Ill let you see, sir, you shant do it either for fun or earnest.
Are you a Tory, Sir Peter?
A Tory, sir! No, sir; Im a magistrate.
Ah, thats why you interfere; you must be a low Rad, or you wouldnt
prevent a man from
A man holds a paddle up to a woman. DOING WHAT HE LIKES WITH HIS HONE.
THE WISE MAN OF THE EAST. SIR PETER LAURIE begs Punch to inform him,
which of Arabias Children is alluded to in Moores beautiful ballad,
Farewell to thee, Arabys daughter.
He presumes it is Miss Elizabeth, commonly called Bess-Arabia.
[pg 251] SONGS OF THE SEEDY.No. VII. I love the night with its mantle
dark,
That hangs like a cloak on the face of the sky;
Oh what to me is the song of the lark?
Give me the owl; and Ill tell you why.
It is that at night I can walk abroad,
Which I may not do in the garish day,
Without being met in the streets, and bored
By some cursed dun, that I cannot pay.
No! no! night let it ever be: