Punch: Punch (17.1849)

246

PUNCH, Oil THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

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i

SOOT. SHOE. AND CORN MEASURE.

Ladies should be particular
to have their shoes half a
size smaller than their feet,
and be also very careful,
in case any questions are
raised as to their being too
tight, to say " Oh dear, no !
they 're much too large: "
for it is a most remarkable
fact that no lady was ever
known yet to wear a tight
shoe.

The soles of Ladies' shoes
should be made as thin as
possible, for it stands to rea-
son they last much longer,
from the obvious cause that,
as a lady is sure to catch
cold with them, she will
not be able to wear them,
so long as she is confined
to her bed, or in-doors.

Gentlemen had better not
go to the Promenade Con-
certs with a new pair of
boots, as the crowd is not
generally very particular
whose feet it treads upon,
and the density of the mob
makes it difficult to detect,
much less punish, the de-
linquent who has nearly
crushed your favourite toe.

Bootmakers have great
faith, in their shoe-leather.
A tight pair of boots was
never tried on yet but what
the suffering martyr was
assured " that it would be
all right in a day or two—the leather would be sure to stretch." But while the leather is coolly
stretching itself, you are sowing the seeds of a plentiful corn crop, which, when gathered m, may be
measured out as follows :—

CORN MEASURE.

1 Cora . . . . . makes One Limp and Bluster.

1 Bluster .......„ One Quarrel.

1 Quarrel .......„ One Kick.

1 Kick ..... . . „ One Sleep in the Station-house.

1 Night in the Station-house „ One look foolish in the newspapers the next morning.

YE SHIP BUILDERS OF
ENGLAND.

(AJter Campbell.)

Ye ship-builders of England,

That load our native seas
With craft not fit to brave a year

The battle or the breeze:
Such rubbish do not launch again,

Top heavy, dull, and slow;
As they creep through the deep,

Whatever wind may blow.

The spirits of retrenchment

Shall start from every wave,
Por in the sea economy

Through you has found a grave.
Thousands and thousands you have sunk

In ships that will not go ;
Por they creep through the deep

Whatever wind may blow.

The costly ships of England

Por fire-wood yet may burn,
Till to the models of the past

Her shipwrights shall return.
Then, then, ye clumsy ship-builders,

Our song no more will throw
All the blame on your name,

Which now merits every blow.

the

Greatest Improvement in Light.

We were lately much startled by
seeing a " devolution in Light."
announced in a morning paper. Por
our part we are quite satisfied with
the existing laws of light as ex-
pounded by Newton, whatever may
be our opinion of the enactment on
that subject which emanated from Pitt.
The freer the operation of the New-
tonian laws of light, indeed, we
think, the better, and therefore would
remove all impediments to it by repeal-
ing the window-tax.

SACRILEGE.
We take the following from the Yorkshireman:—

" Nearly £50 had been expended by a gentleman, formerly a Member of Parliament,
in the funeral obsequies of his dog Pincher, which had been long ailing."

The paper then goes on to enumerate the pomps of sepulture; a
coffin, covered with black velvet, silver-headed nails and handles, and
a solid silver plate ! We ask why does not our contemporary publish
the name of this late Member of Parliament—this criminal against the
claims of suffering human nature? With the misery existing about us
—the misery withering and crushing young and old—we would gibbet
the offender's name for the contempt of the world. We hold him
guilty of sacrilege against the wretchedness of his fellow-man, and
denounce him accordingly.

" The undertaker (continues the account) made, not an elm coffin covered with ordinary
black cloth, but with real velvet, silver-headed nails and handles, and a solid silver
plate, on which was engraved, " Pincher, for nine years the attached and faithful dog of I
W. G., Esq., Obiit 10th of October, 1849."

As " W. G." has buried his dog with more than the lavish expense
laid out upon a man, so when the offender departs from a world whose
good gifts he so wretchedly misuses—so would we have him buried like
a dog. " W. G." can only save himself from contempt at the expense
of his reason. Can he be sane ?

the bay of biscay interpreted.

A musical critic m the Morning Post, in noticing the "Wednesday
Concerts," talks of "Here Formes's interpretation of Davy's nautical
ballad " The Bay of Biscay." Interpretation,'' How so? We must
suppose that Herr Porm.es had a German audience if he attempted
to interpret that truly British ballad.

ANIMAL BIOGRAPHY. A SONNET.

{Composed at the Smithfield-Club Cattle Show.)

Cressy, Poictiers, Agincourt, Waterloo !
Watchwords, of England's blood and bone that tell,
Your memories made my heart with triumph swell
As I beheld the Briton's future thew
In beef yet breathing—pork and mutton too—
At King Street's Show. One Ox of giant size,
E'en where he stood devoured by eager eyes,
Was the prime darling of the public view,
The golden Medallist. 'Twas o'er his head
Wrote that on clover, cake, grass, turnips, beans,
Carrots, and meal of wheat he had been fed.
Thus was his life a chronicle of meals.
Who will record more memorable scenes,
Reader, that our biography reveals ?

CROWDED TO SUFPOCATION.

We perceive by the advertisements and play-bills that one or more
Theatres in London every night are " crowded to suffocation." This
is an awful fact, indeed, if it is a fact at all, and we implore some
humane Member of the Legislature to move for a return of all the
persons suffocated in any given week at any metropolitan play-house.
The allegation cannot be mere puff, for the critics sometimes tell us, as
they did the other day of Jullien's Masquerade, that the place was
" crowded to suffocation." How long are our Theatres to be turned
into black-holes of Calcutta, or how long are we to be horrified by the
announcement of suffocations, which have no existence anywhere bu>
in the criticisms (P) and the tops of the playbills ?