Punch: Punch (69.1875)

August 21, 1875.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 69

below, which lies between, two chests of clothes-drawers, forming
the side supports of the bedstead. The handles of the drawers can
be taken out and used as corkscrews and pipe-pickers. The boot-
jack fits in naturally at the foot of the bed, so as to be useful when-
ever you happen to go to bed in your boots.

This bed in full operation is admirably adapted to the necessities
of a poor family, where economy of space is an object. Thus : One
person can sleep in the cistern above ; the mattress dividing in the
centre (as described above), can open out so as to make two couches,
allowing air for a fourth person to sleep in the bath below, while a
fifth would find a most comfortable bed in the corkscrew drawer.
N.B.—A clock in a mattress is also most useful; it gives the hour,
its alarum calls you, and it supplies the ticking.

One great moral principle must never be lost sight of, whether by
builder, architect, furnisher, or tenant, and that is,

No matter what your ap-
pearance outside may be,
as long as you are all right
inside.

Can you ever accurately
judge of a man's moral
worth by his looks ? No,
no more than you can spe-
culate on the amount he has
at his banker's by the cut
of his hair, the shape of his
coat, or the turn his con-
versation may take.

When a woman is de-
scribed as comfortable, she
is no longer praised for her
beauty. Greek statues are
beautiful, but they never
look comfortable.

A word, therefore, on
Exteriors would not be
inappropriate in this place.

No London house can be
perfect without iron rails in
front. Every London house
might be accurately de-
scribed as within a minute's
walk of a line of rails.
These ornaments are intended to keep up the good old English
maxim that " an Englishman's house is his castle." A castle was
fosse'd all round by its moat. The Feudal Baron gave his order
to the Architect, finishing with, " And don't forget the moat."

To which the Architect replied, " So mote it be;" a phrase which
is still preserved in English Freemasonry.

About an Englishman's Town-house there is no room for this
moat; the nearest approach to it, therefore, is an area guarded by
strong iron railings.

The spikes of these rails should be formed for use as well as
ornament. They should be musical, never flat, but always sharp.
The ironmonger should look sharp in putting them up, and they
should be of sufficient acuteness to offer a pointed repartee to the
insidious burglar.

They should be sufficiently long to^serve as hooks for beer-cans,
pint pots, and hat-pegs.

They should be ornamental "and* graceful, so as to suggest to
the passing shop-boys, errand-lads, and cabmen the notion of

elegant raillery."

While on the subject of ironwork a few hints may, nay I am sure

will, be useful. I mentioned burglars just now. When one of this
fraternity is trapped, it will save time, if instead of calling in a
policeman (unless you have a pretty housemaid in your employ, in
which case you may leave all your doors and windows open, and let
the burglars beggar your neighbour—they won't come near you) you
send at once for your laundress, who will at once attend, and for a
comparatively small sum your freshly caught burglar will soon be
heavily ironed.

Modern door-hinges are an utter mistake. Never by any chance
use modern door-hinges.* The only place to obtain really useful
hinges, and in fact all articles of ironmongery, is Mr. J. Bellows'1 s,\
No. 3, Huxter's Rents, Charles Alley, near Gray's Inn Lane.

If a common hinge (I do not mean any one of those manufactured
by J. Bellows, of No. 3, Huxter's Rents, Charles Alley, near
Gray's Inn Lane, W.C.) gets out of order, and there's a screw loose,
so that the hinge hangs down on one side, you will soon find that
this state of affairs will be followed by some other great ex-
ternal hinge-awry the door. (N.B.—This capital joke was made
by Me. Bellows, of the above-mentioned address, who has a ready-
made stock always on hand; and when he has a sore throat he
always has his hand on his ready-made stock.)

A door once in this condition soon comes to utter grief, or as that
eminent disciple of Ouentin Matsys, Mk. Bellows, Ironworker, of
Huxter's Rents, 'facetiously puts it, " Sich a door is a dying b3r
hinges."

As by this time the student, for whom I write, must have had a
dose oi iron, I will proceed to another and no less interesting
question.

* i say this emphatically, and most feelingly. Not a single modern-
working ironmonger has sent me an advertisement, or entered into satisfactory
arrangement with me.

f Except this most respectable tradesman, and just see how it is in my
power to puff him, (P.S.—My opinions are still open to a change.)

(To be continued.)

THE GONE GROTTO.

Now the holiday time of the year we have got to; _
Now the husbandmen hasten to garner their grain ;

Now the streets should resound with " Remember the Grotto ! "
But of that bore we now can no longer complain.

There was one ragged urchin heard something to mutter,
Whilst in fingers unwashed he extended a shell;

But so low was the voice of this child of the gutter,
That his gesture was all that his meaning could tell.

Alas !—though young beggars disturbed meditations,
When they plagued us and pestered like flies or as gnats,

And dogged us and teased us, till wild execrations
We broke out in against those importunate brats,

0 how glad we should be if once more, at this season,
We were met with the old cry by each passing child,—-

Once again, if occasion afforded it reason,
And the grotto again in the alley were piled.

*

Of two things one used ever the other to follow,
But now of that sequence cessation we mourn;

The return of the oyster and that of the swallow,
To the mouths of the Million too dear to return.

Ah, we well recollect, in Life's race when we started,
Then Best Natives were eightpence a dozen, galore,

But now, save as a dream of an era departed,

We " Remember the Grotto," my tulips, no more.