Punch (12.1847)

188

PUNCH, OR THE .LONDON CHARIVARI.

piest days that have shone upon Stratford for many a year. 1 feel it,

sir, as a great blessing that I have been spared to see such a day: for CAPSICUM HOUSE—FOR YOUNG LADIES

though Royalty can, by its homage, do no honour to the genius of
Shakspeare, it does a great deal, sir—a great deal by example. This

visit of the Qdeen to Shakspeare will make tens of thousands crowd CHAPTER III.

to house and tomb. Besides, the Queen honours herself and throne, ____,. _ „ „„ „. ,„„ ^

by honouring the greatest mind that ever dawned in man-and that arrn 0f tamerlane CORKS-the marriage-service
man, an Englishman.

" Forgive me, sir, this long letter : it is not often that I take a pen (yj, very hours communion with

in my hand ; but when I do, the quill, as though it were a wild-goose ^^jS^HBlft^. Cl~r~z\T bliss Griffin charmed us

of the roc, or giant sort, flies clean away with me. ,;>gg| HHL v" with the growing belirf that

•■ 1 remain, your constant reader, DrlsK 2^,4^ nature, just for once to show

"The Oldest Inhabitant." «yRHK»'^■nlliii ^ f what she could do, had made

^^^^^MffWK* l^^ftU'..*"'' in the mistress of Capsicum

^ „ , . , , . „ " April 30. «^ivJH8SBH . ^H^M House a perfect woman.

• P S.-I kept this letter open to read it over for mistakes ; and now vfV/flHH| . Every hour she rose in our

te to say, that I tremble for the wickedness of the press. Our '■/.'J&EBbkKxi ^S^^^fflKKk<^'■ x< • •" i

write to say, that 1 tremble for the wickedness of the press. v_,m ''fi'mm hf H8i&-^
Gracious Queen, and Prince, and royal children were here yesterday. mB RP^aHH Hffilfe-*:" ^x pi ' f ,

paying their reverence to the memory of Shakspeare. I saw them, '^MBy 1» ' iacUity ot genius—she

sir—with these old eyes I saw them: and yet I am told that in this BHP^~'~' seemed to elevate us at the

very morning's newspaper it is said that ' the Queen, Prince Albert, J§ s^^BiP»f^' *arne time: we rose with

the Prince up Wales, the Princess Royal, and Princess Alice ' her_ Thus, albeit we were

were all at Drury Lane Theatre—all to see a show of beasts ; camels, prepared for an admirable, and withal most original discipline
Indian ponies, and Indian elephants ! This is shameful. Who invents 0f the female mind in its tremendous development of girlhood
these stories—and where do they expect to go to ?" mt0 womanhood, we were yet to be pleasantly astounded by the

__; genius of Miss Griffin in her preparation of the giddiness of

i maiden life for the serious truths of wedlock. Miss Griffin,
however, felt the solemnity of her mission, and in the matter of
marriage, began with the beginning. Hence, her pupils were once a
month collected into the Marriage-Service Class, that by a proper
rehearsal of the ceremony, they might be perfect in all fitting self-
possession when the anxious time of performance should arrive.

My dear sir," said Miss Griffin, " I have seen weddings that

THE OLD WOOLSACK.

(dedicated to miss eliza cook.)

Oh, the old House at home might be shabby and small,
And the new House is stately, and splendid, and tall,

But better I loved the old faded moreen, naye sent me into a twitter. Tears and tremblings ! Oh, I have

Than the new silks and satins, and purple and sheen ; . felt compromised by the weakness. No, sir ; I like to see a woman

give herself away with dignity ; as if she very well knew every scruple
of her own worth ; every atom of the treasure which, at the most
liberal moment of human life, she was bestowing upon man. It's u
great gift, sir, a very great gift ; and therefore, as I say, I acutely
feel the humiliation, when I see a young woman give away her hand
as though she, forsooth, was the obliged party. All wrong—all very
wrong!" said Miss Griffin, wit h a sigh. " A woman, sir, should
deal by her heart as she deals by a trinket at a fancy fair ; ask a
man the highest price for it, and give no change."

'•No change, Miss Gkiffin ! No reciprocity of love I" we cried.
"Well, not exactly that," said Miss Gkiffin; "but you know
what I mean." Not quite ; nevertheless, in all gallantry, we bowed.

It was on an early visit to Capsicum House, that its mistress
revealed to us thus much of her discipline : we were therefore not
wholly unprepared for an introduction that in a few days followed.
We had paused at one of the girl's beds of sweet herbs, and with
dreamy eye were wandering from thyme to parsley, from parsley tc
sweet marjoram, thinking of marriage as treated by Miss Griffin.

For thro' that old House where I liked I could walk
And in that old House I could hear myself talk ;
And though springy and soft the new Woolsack may be,
Oh, dearer by far the old Woolsack to me !

Thence ten times a-night have I jumped up to speak,

On its surface for hours I've displayed " Poses plastiques ;

'Twas from it that at Campbell my thunders I flung,

And showed to the Peers the rough side of my tongue.

Oh, bless its broad back and its shabby old face!

For, whoever sat on it I still found a place ;

How fiercely I thumped it, no care it displayed,

Nor how dirty the boots that upon it I laid.

Yes ; tho' springy and soft the new Woolsack may be,

Oh, dearer by far the old Woolsack to me !

'Twas on it that by dozens I knocked off appeals,
'Twas on it that triumphant I wielded the seals :
When on it no reporter could e'er cut me short,
For whatever I said they were forced to report

Now the rogues, when 1 rise, with delight in their looks, when that lady, attended by a strange gentleman, approached us.

Wink each at the other, and shut up their books
And 1 feel, as I spout, that it's no use at all,

Dear sir," said that wondrous woman, " allow me to introduce
Mr. Tamerlane Corks, Professor of The Marriage-Service Class."
For it 'a all 'twixt their Lordships, and me, and the wall. " A clergyman ? " we observed in a half-voice to Miss Gkiffin ;

No ; tho' springy and soft the new Woolsack may be, for we thought we recognised in the neckcloth of the stranger the

Oh, dearer by far the old Woolsack to me ! Brougham. established 8farch- «A clergyman ?"

_ j "Why, no," said Miss Griffin, "although Mr. Corks has several

pupils, young gentlemen intended for the church. He teaches 'em to
New Coin. : say grace with proper intonation at public dinners. Indeed," said

There has been a talk about new coin in the House of Commons, in | Griffin with a slight bursty Z^^hevJ^L ^bufthe

Tenths will certainly be a more convenient calculation for the Church.
asfweT.as f°r ^EE Majestt's subjects in general. Again, the tenth of
a farthing will, in a little time, be a most convenient coin for subscribers
to the Repeal Fund. Mr. Sheil proposes that the new two-shilling
piece should be called "a Royal"—the one-shilling, '■ Half-a-Royal"—
and six-pence, " a Quarter of a Royal." We should like more familiar
terms; for instance, why not call the two-shilling, "a Hog" —the
one-shilling, "a Pig"—and the six-pence, "a Sucklin* ? "

POR SALE—A GREAT BARGAIN. By a Sovereign who is giving up
the use of it-a Constitution, as good as new, having only been worked on
trial, though the owner has had it thirty years in his possession. The present
proprietor is parting with it merely because he finds it goes rather faster than suits
his convenience. It is admirably suited for any one in his position who wants
violent exercise ; and is built after an English model. It will be disposed of on easy

terms, as the proprietor is anxious to get it off his hands__Apply (post-paid) to F W

Potsdam ; or at the Palace, Berlin. a trial requested.

fdCt is, Me. Corks was an actor at Drury Lane Theatre." Here Mr.
Corks bowed with the tempered majesty of fallen gTeatness. " How-
ever, it was not for a man like Mr. Corks to associate with camels,
and make companions of elephants ; and, therefore, in a word, you
may see in my friend Tamerlane the Decline of the Drama."

We bowed to the obvious truth. Looking again, we wondered how
for a moment we could have mistaken Corks ; for we still saw the
track of the hare's foot upon his cheek, though a little obliterated by
the later occupation of his mind, divided as it was between the church
and the bar. His former practice as an actor had, notwithstanding,
all unconsciously prepared him for the double task. He took to the
stage as a walking gentleman, and, retiring from before the elephants,
left it as a heavy father ; having in the course of five-and-thirty years
played all the intermediate parts. Hence, he could charge a young
barrister with the varying eloquence of a Mare Antony, making him
play upon a jury of twelve as though they were Pandaean pipes—or