Punch: Punch (57.1869)

July 17, 1869.]

PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

19

reply, " No. Jersey and Ireland—I shan't go any farther." " Well "
MORE HAPPY THOUGHTS. he returns, "if you do, look me up." I promise I will.

Happy Thought.—Ask him to write down his address, so that I may
know his name, which of course can't be De Bootjack.

The Count answers that everyone knows him, and that he's always
to be heard of either at the Legation or the Embassy; or, if it's after
November, and I go on to Turin, "just inquire at the Palace, and
they '11 tell you my whereabouts, and we '11 have a pipe and a chat." I
reply, " Oh, yes, of course," as if I was in the habit of calling at
Palaces, and having pipes and chats with Lord Derby.

"He's a greater swell than Lord Derby when he's at home," says
Milburd, to whom I relate my parting words with the Count. I
really must go and see him, and drop Ireland and Jersey. More
character and life in Brussels, Vienna, and Turin. Diplomatic life, too.
The Count de (I must get his right title, as it would never do to go to
the Palace at Turin, and ask for a Prussian Count, describing him as a
greater swell than Lord Derby, with a name like De Bootjack)—The
Count would introduce me everywhere.
Happy Thought.—Get up my Trench and Italian.
Happy Thought.—Say " good night," and go to Willis's, in Conduit
Street. Milburd and Lord Dungeness will walk part of the way.
Milburd is suddenly in wonderful spirits. It is almost daylight.
Milburd sees a coffee-stand, and stops. He says, " Wouldn't it be a
lark to upset the whole lot, and bolt ?" I laugh [Happy Thought—
like the monks of old, " Ha! ha ! "] and get him to walk on. By
Burlington Arcade he stops again, and says, " Wouldn't it be a lark
to knock up the beadle, and when he came out just say 'How are
you this morning ?' and run away ? " Lord Dungeness wishes there
was a jolly good fire somewhere, as we'd all have a ride on the engine.
Milburd observes " he should like to have a row somewhere," and
animation, by the Count de Bootjack, Milburd, 1 Dungeness proposes St. Giles's or Wapping. Milburd says to me,
Lord Dungeness and the Irish Proprietor) turns ; " Yes, that's your place (meaning Wapping) for character, if you
upon Drainage. I can't tear myself away from Drainage, as this want to fill up Typical ' Elephants.'" [He will still call Typical
is to me a novel topic. ["D" for Drainage, Typical Developments, Developments "Typical Elephants." That's the worst of Milburd
Book V.] The Prussian Count questions (as I understand him, or —always overdoes a joke. I will really get one good unanswerable
rather as I don't understand him) the utility of Alluvial Deposits, repartee, to be delivered before a lot of people, and settle him for
Milburd, who really seems to know what he's talking about on this ever. One never knows, now, whether Milburd is serious or joking.]
subject, observes that the great point is neither to exhaust the land It occurs to Dungeness that he knows what he calls "a crib" where
by over-manuring and working off three crops for one, nor to under- > the last comer has to fight the thieves' champion, and "stand liquor "
fertilise it by constant drainage. This (I say, thoughtfully, as I cannot , all round. " It's a sort of den," he adds, " that it's not safe to go
sit there without making some observation) is mere common sense. | into without about five policemen." But he doesn't mind.

Milburd retorts, with some sharpness, "Of course it's common Happy Thought—Ho say, "Should like to see those places very
sense ; but who does it? " to which I can only reply, as he seems [ much." But got to be up to-morrow morning, so must go to bed now.
annoyed, " Ah ! that's it," and take a sip at my gin-sling. A pause. yery sorrv. Staving with a fellow, so won't do to be too late. As I
More orders to waiter. [ 0Den the door, Milburd says, " Don't forget Jersey." Nod my head :

Happy Thought.—To say that the Drainage question involves many all right. As much as to intimate that I'm ready for Jersey at any
" slmgs." I moment. Can't help thinking what a good fellow Willis is to let me

conversation (kept up, with

No one seems to notice my having said this, except the Prussian
Count, who smiles somewhat patronisingly, and says, " Yes, we drain
slings," then laughs again. I laugh, out of compliment, not that I see

have his room in town, and to write to say I might be expected.

Happy Thought.—Simple arrangement a latch-key. Eeel as if I were
getting in burglariously. Gas out. Wish I knew where the stairs

anything funny in what he said, as it was only a sort of explanation of1 commenced. Stupid practice having a bench in the passage. They
my joke. The Irish Proprietor asks me if I farm at all. I reply, " No, might have left out a light-
scarcely at all." This reply sounds like a hundred acres or so, nothing ; H p Thought {in the dark)— instead of leaving a light out. [Mem.
to speak of )Jt really means five hens that won t lay, two pigs (mva- put lhls d and work it up as something of Sheridan's. People
lids), a cock that crows in the afternoon only, and a small field let out , wlU laugh at iti then ] Fajlen agaiust the umbrella-stand. Awkward
to somebody else s cow J . . I if the Landlady is awoke. She's never seen me before, and I should

Milburd observes that he s heard I ve a very nice place m the | have to expiain who t was aud how I got there. Might end in Police,
country. I tell him I shall be very glad if he 11 come and see me there. ; Willis ought to have written to his Landlady about me.
xeeimg that this invitation to only one m the companv may be taken TT mL no.- i t j u • <- wT,TT„ i:
as a slight to the others, I add (not knowing their names, and I can't 7/™ Thoupht-Slurs at last, and banisters W illis lives on
address the Count as De Bootjack) " and any one who likes to come sekC0I!d flr00I\1 *™?n* on firf n°°r- Sj0p t0 Uf e\n LotS, °j Sn°n^
down." They murmur something about being delighted, and then . abo^ Landlady below, perhaps maid-servant above ; lodge s a ll
follows a sort of awkward pause, as if I'd insulted every one of them, i ™und : all snoring Something awful m these sounds hot solemn,
TT mi TJ „ , , * ., . . ./T ... .. . . but ghostly, as it all the snoring people would certainly burst out upon

Happy Thought—lo break the sdence by saying, I like living m , you from the different doors. Simile occurs to me—Roberto and the
tn^pour11t'ry- . , , .i_ . T -r i j t T 'Nuns. That ended in a ballet. Eancy this ending in a ballet—with

lhe Irish Proprietor remarks, that I must come to Ireland if I want the Landlady. Daylight streams in through window on second flight,
to see country Ye must come over he says, heartily, to my j yery pale n ht. Inakes me feel ghostly, especially about the white
shooting-box this side o Connemara, and I 11 show you Ireland. I waistCoat: a sort of dingy ghost. Up the next stairs quietly. Pass

Happy Thought.—A real opportunity of seeing life and character : Rawlinson's bed-room. More snoring. Rawlinson snores angrily,
the Erne Old Irish Gentleman; bailiffs shot on the premises ; port The other people down below contentedly; except one, somewhere,
wine ; attached peasantry ready to die for the Masther ; old servants j who varies it with a heavy sigh. Glad to shut the door on it all, and

saying witty things all over the house ; cardrivers ; laughter all day;
flinging money right and left; Eather Tom and whiskey-punch in the
evening, and no one at all uncomfortable except a hard landlord and a
rent collector.

I accept with pleasure.

Irish Proprietor wants to know when I '11 come, as he shan't be at
home for the next four months, but after that will I write to him ?
1 promise.

Note.—Jersey with Milburd, Ireland with Mr. Delany.

Happy Thought.—Must arrange for my wife to go somewhere with
my inotner-in-law.

Prussian Count says he must go to bea. I rise too. We say good-
bye. He asks me if I'm going anywhere near Brussels this year. I

go to bed.

Happy Thought {in connection with the ballet and Roberto).—" Willis's
Rooms." Good idea this. Should like to wake up Rawlinson, and
tell him what I'd thought of. Won't: don't know him well enough.
My portmanteau has been moved into the bed-room evidently. But
here's my bag on the sofa : everything in it for the night ready. See
these by the pale daylight. Look at myself in the glass. Say, "Thi3
won't do : mustn't stop out so late." Hair looks wiry. The bed-room
is quite dark, so I must light a candle to go in there, as somehow the
stupid idiots at home have put the only thing I really do want for night
in my portmanteau, instead of in my bag. Delicious it will by to go to
bed, ancl get up when I like in the morning.

Happy Thought.—Bed.