Punch (35.1858)

October D. J 858.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

i43

AN ELEGANT ROW ABOUT A MACHINE.

A SCOTTISH PATRIOT.

Glasgow, believe it or not, wants more water to mix
with the intolerable quantity of whiskey wherewith she
besots herself. Her Water Commissioners require, in the
course of their operations, about fourteen acres of land be-
longing to one John Macgregob, Esq., who, in Scotch
fashion, calls himself Glengyle, from the name of his
estate, and who is stated to be a collateral descendant of
Rob Roy Macgbegor. If disposition could prove pedi-
gree, we think any herald would pass Mb. Glengyle's ; fur
in the first place he demanded for his fourteen acres
£25,903 lis. 8d., and then, remembering his "feelings,"
increased his price to £93,500. The stunned Commis-
sioners could only gasp out that his whole estate, of 2200
acres, with all its rock, bog, and heather, is not worth
more than £7000. A Southron reader is equally astonished
that under such circumstances the parties could meet for
an arbitration Such, however, is the case, and the Lord
Advocate of Scotland was umpire, or " oversman," and
gave Glengyle £490. If our friend Glengyle did not
want to ticket his estate with a prohibitory price, (just as
some English idiots marked their hideous Cochin China
cocks at a hundred guineas each, at a show the other day,)
what on earth did his monstratious demand mean ? All
we can say is, that Glasgow will at last have an excuse for
her drunkenness, should she be able to say, that she can
buy no water except at the most awful and extortionate
price ever heard of.

Perhaps this is the solution of the Glengyle problem
—the owner of the estate is a patriot, and not being able
to bear the contempt with which drunken Glasgow is
spoken of by moral and civilised folk, resolved, at the
chance of losing a good sale, to provide her with a plea in
extenuation of her depravity,

Telegraphic Alphabet.—The Lindley-Murrays of elec-
tricity are busy laying down a new alphabet for the use
of the submarine telegraph. Mus. Trimmer says, that
the foundation of such an alphabet must be principally
mutes and liquids.

THE HAWTHORN CORRESPONDENCE.

LETTER V.

"My dear Mr. Punch,

" Possibly a person of your integrity of character is above
the weakness of yielding to temptation: but such was not my case
when my kind old host, aided and abetted by Captain Bluffins and
his fair intended, pressed me to stay for a day's partridge-shooting.
I felt, Sir, as greater men have done before me; and [ concocted a
rambling letter of instructions to forward letters, so ingeniously
worded as to leave any one who might be interested in hurrying my
return to town quite in the dark about my movements, smothered the
qualms of conscience, and accepted the invitation.

" The 31st of August was passed in that restless state of excitement
which is not unusual amongst people who are on the eve of a day's
pleasure. Did you ever know a tourist who was bound for Switzer-
land, or Killarney, or the Cataracts, or even to homely Ramsgate. who
could work later than noon on the day preceding his holiday ? Is not
there always, Mr. Punch, a portmanteau to buy, or a knapsack to try on,
or a visit to be paid? anyone of which occupations would take half-an-
hour in reality, but to which a whole afternoon is devoted. So it was
with us at Hawthorn on the day preceding the 1st of September.
Leathers the Keeper came before breakfast was over, to receive
instructions about ammunition, and to consult with Captain Bluffins
about a loading-rod. Nothing could be more apropos than this move
of Mr. Leathers. A committee, composed of old Mr. Hawthorn,
Laura, Bluffins, and the Keeper, was instantly formed, and all sorts
of topics connected with shooting grew out of the subject. The old
squire was great on the question of the old flint-guns which were used
in his time, and discoursed learnedly on sporting weapons of all ages.
You should have heard Bluffins and Laura conspiring to lead the
old gentleman on to his favourite hobby, and how that rogue Bluffins,
who had heard all the stories twenty times, drew the old veteran out for
my amusement. After luncheon the fever broke out worse than ever;
and old Mr. Hawthorn conducted us into his sanctum sanctorum,
and had all the weapons of the chace taken down. ' And now,' said
the old gentleman, ' here is a more modern weapon; in fact, I believe
it only yesterday left the factory of Messrs. Westley and Richards ;
d I wish you joy with it, Charley/ he added, as he put a magnifi-

cent new double-barrel into the hands of Bluffins. There are pleasant
little domestic scenes, Mr. Punch, which honest writers should always
leave to the reader's imagination, and not describe. What is the
meaning of presenting a man with a handsome double-barrelled pa ?
What is there in such a proceeding to make the old gentleman's hand
shake, and Laura's eyes grow dim? Should I choke in saying, 'Thank
you, Sir,' and be able to get no further, on receiving such a gift ?
There are sermons in guns, Mr. Punch, as well as in stones • and the
gun, if it could have spoken, would have said: ' Charley Bluffins,
my boy, I am a neat weapon, and have cost Mr. Hawthorn a good
figure; and when you are in possession of Hawthorn and Laura,
and the old gentleman is sleeping under the old yew tree, you will
never omit to tell your friends, when I am admired (which I am sure
to be), " The poor old gentleman gave me this on the day before the
1st of September, 1858." 5

"I need not say that the gun was a fair excuse for carrying out
a scheme which had long been brewing in Charley's mind, for taking
a gun out with him, ' just to shoot a rabbit or wood-pigeon;' and,
acting on the impulse of the moment, we three, Laura, Bluffins,
and your humble servant, went for a stroll.

"' What a jolly brick the old boy is, isn't he Muff ?' asked
Charley. 'I believe he would have a gold collar for Ponto, if he
thought it would make either the dog or me happier, wouldn't he,
Ponto, eh ! down dog, go to heel, Sir!' but the dog was as mad as we
were, and whined with delight at the sight of the gun. Oh! tempora,
ok mores! must I tell it, after a somewhat lengthened stroll in the
park, just as we were reaching the shrubbery on our return, a covey of
birds flew past us. Charley Bluffins put up his gun, and after
covering two birds, look it down again without firing. 'There, Laura,
that's what 1 call resisting temptation;' the words were scarcely out
of Ms mouth, when two stragglers flew after the covey, bang ! bang !
went both barrels, and down fell the birds.

" ' I couldn't resist that' says Charley ; 'but what will Mr.
Hawthorn say ? Let's have them dressed for dinner, and call them
pigeons.5 When Mr. Hawthorn tasted his pigeon at dinner, it was
as good as a play to see him put down his knife and fork and look
Charley Bluffins in the face. ' Oh! Charley, you rascal, what
have you been at ?'

I " ' Variation in clocks, Mb. Hawthorn,' answered the culprit; ' yov