Punch (10.1846)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

11

a fortune for—a feller I* give 100 lb. per hannum to !—a low bred Wallydyshamber ! He must
be thinking of falling in love too ! and treating me to his imperence.

" He's a great big athlatic feller—six foot i» with a pair of black whiskers like air-brushes—with a
look of a Colonel in the Harmy—a dangerous pawmpus-spoken raskle I warruntyou. I was coming
•me from shuiting this hafternoon—and passing through Lady Hangelinas flour-garding, who should
I see in the summerouse, but Mart Hann pretending to em an ankyshr and Mr. Fitzwarren paying
his cort to her.

'mmiiHIIIMUL/

"£ You may as well have me, Mary Hann-,' says he. £ I've saved money. We '11 take a public-
house and I '11 make a lady of you. I'm not a purse-proud ungrateful fellow like Jeames—who's
such a snob (' such a snobb ' was his very words !) that I'm ashamed to wait on him—who's the
laughing stock of all the gentry and the housekeeper's room too—try a man,' says he—' don't be
taking on about such a humbug as Jeames.'

" Here young Joe the keaper's sun, who was carrying my bagg, bust out a laffing—thereby causing
Mr. Fitzwarren to turn round and intarupt this polite convasation.

" I was in such a rayge. ' Quit the building, Mary Hann,' says I to the young woman—' and you,
Mr. Fitzwarren, have the goodness to remain.'

" ' I give you warning,' roars he, looking black, blue, yaller—all the colours of the ranebo.

"' Take hoff your coat, you imperent, hungrateful scoundrl,' says l.r

"' It's not your livery,' says he.

"' Peraps you '11 understand me, when I take off my own,' says I, unbuttoning the motherapurls
of the MacWhirter tartn. « Take my jackit, Joe,' says I to the boy,—and put myself in a hattatude
about which there was no mistayk."

• ***•**•#

" He's 2 stone heavier than me—and knows the use of his ands as well as most men ; but in a
fite, blood's every think ; the Snobb can't stand before the gentleman ; and I should have killed him,
I've little doubt, but they came and stopt the fite betwigst us before we'd had more than 2 rounds.

" I punisht the raskle tremenjusly in that time, though ; and I'm writing this in my own sittn-
room, not being able to come down to dinner on account of a black-eye I've got, which is sweld up
and disfiggrs me dredfl."

THE LOST SENSES.

Illustrations of the Lost Senses are frequently given by the Metropolitan Magistrates ; and a
few days ago Mr. Traill favoured his audience, at the Police Court, with his ideas of deafness and
dumbness. An individual, alleged to be labouring under these maladies, having been brought before
him, the Magistrate addressed a few questions, which the deaf and dumb man, after a little hesi-
tation, commenced very glibly answering. Having got thus far, Mr. Traill, with wonderful sagacity,
observed to the prisoner at the bar : " Now, do you mean to adhere to the story you first told, that
you were dumb, and could not speak a word ?" For enormous Bulls, of which there are nearly six
in two lines, this little speech of Mr. Traill is a perfect Smithfield Cattle Show. The man, after
having spoken several times, at length admitted that he was not dumb, upon being closely pressed by
the Magistrate.

Singular Unanimity.

Dr. Buckland and his brother-saaans have been unanimous in one thing about the potato, which was, Dreadful fog.—The fog in the City was so

chat the first thing requisite to save it was instantly to remove (he peel. Russell and his party intense, the other day, that a person actually

m their desire to save England, seem to have been impressed with precisely the same necessity, got into St. Paul's Cathedral without paying *

PUNCH'S DIGNITY OFFENDEB.

Dr. Bowring, the other day, at the great
Anti-Corn-Law Meeting in the City, declared,
in allusion to the Free Traders, that—

" From the Premier himself, down to Punch, every-
body was with them. The Premier had shown his
adherence to their views by deserting his friends."

From the Premier down to Punch, indeed !
Punch never deserted his friends. Punch
never left his party in the lurch. Punch
never changed his coat,—except for a new
one of the same pattern. Punch never ran
away with other people's clothes and then
wore them on his own back. Punch did
not invent the sliding scale. Punch never
bolstered up monopoly at all; his cudgel has
always been wielded against it. Punch never
upheld the Poor Law. The nation has not
Punch to thank for the Income Tax. The
worth of a thing is just what it will fetch ;
and Punch would be sorry to exchange his
Office, 92, Fleet Street, for that of any First
Lord of the Treasury. Down to Punch!
Does Dr. Bowring go down the river to
Richmond 1 Does he come down to London
from the country ? Would he reckon down-
wards from the Corporal to the Captain ?
Up to Punch, Dr. Bowring, if you please,
another time.

MINISTERIAL RUMOURS.

The Morning Chronicle stated, the other
day, that Lord Campbell had been remaining
at his town residence ever since the resig-
nation of Sir R. Peel, but had not yet had
an interview with Lord John Russell. We
are not aware whether this paragraph was an
advertisement; but to us it looked exceedingly
like an announcement that Lord Campbell
was ready to undertake Chancellor's work on
the shortest notice. We were rather surprised
that the intimation did not conclude with a
significant N.B. :—" No objection to travel,
and is willing to go to Ireland."

It is not, perhaps, generally known that our
friend Briefless remained at his Chambers
throughout the whole of the crisis, never
leaving without writing on his door, " Gone to
dinner, return in an hour," or "Please to
wait;" but no summons from Lord John
Russell was sent to him. This is a proof of
the ingratitude of party, for Briefless always
supported the Whigs in the dining-hall of his
Inn, and has been heard to say that he
would at any time throw himself into the gap,
if there should be any difficulty in finding a
Solicitor-General. The treatment he has
received is wholly unaccountable, for it was
the opinion of his tailor—an influential voter
for a Metropolitan borough—that Briefless
is the very man for a crisis.

Fair Barter.

A gentleman advertises that he will give
wines in exchange for Railway scrip. They
consist of " Ports, Sherries, Claret, Cham-
pagnes, and fancy wines." Fancy wines are
a fair exchange for imaginary property.

WORTHY OF REMARK.

It is a fact—and as the evening Mrs.
Harris says, we will stake our reputation upon
it—that Mrs. Gamp of the Herald did, one day
last week, write, that is, scold, a leader about
Lord John Russell, and did not quote Sydney
Smith !