Punch: Punch (76.1879)

Mat 3, 1879.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

201

COLLOQUIAL METEOROLOGY.

f

has long been
^sual for peo-
ple who wish
to say something to
one another, but
are at a loss for a
subject, to talk of
the weather. On
this topic there
were formerly but
few ideas to be in-
terchanged, and
therefore little
could be said; but
now the progress of
popularised meteor-
ology has enabled
Noakes and Styles
to maintain a con-
versation of some
length if not much
liveliness ; as thus:
Noakes. Here 's
another dull day,
old man.

Styles. Just such
another as yester-
day was. Dull as
ditchwater.

Noakes. Yes;' but, however, it seems to have been bright in the
north of Scotland—of all places.

Styles. Rain at Yarmouth, ^Holyhead, and Valentia, though.

Noakes. Ditto this morning over the whole of the south-east of
England.

Styles. Thermometer last evening on south-west coasts and at
London 51°. Lowish.

Noakes. At Shields down to 40°. Low; very low.

Styles. Mean temperature five or six degrees below the average of
the month. Shamefully mean.

Noakes. "Wind in northern parts easterly. A gale.

Styles. Regular Euroclydon.

Noakes. Backing towards south in Bay of Biscay. South and
rough.

Styles. Bough, of course.

Noakes. Barometer rising slightly in the west of Paddyland.
Styles. First flower of the earth and first gem of the sea. Fair in
old Oireland.

Noakes. Erin go bragh ! Slight recovery this morning at Hurst
Castle.

Styles. Elsewhere mercury falling, though. Yah !

Noakes. General depression, barometrical and business.

Styles. Let us hope things will look up. Band of high pressure
lying over North Sea. Too much high pressure in most quarters.

Noakes. You may say that. Any ozone in the atmosphere ?

Styles. Clerk of Weather Office doesn't say. No meteors last
night. No aurora. What's the prophecy from New York ?

Noakes. Cyclone to reach these coasts in a day or two; thunder
and lightning, and then fall of temperature. Down again !

Styles. As if it wasn't low enough already. Ugh !

Noakes. Expect the Derby this year will be run in a snow-storm.

Styles. If a continued black frost doesn't prevent its being run at
all.

Noakes. By the way, which is the favourite for the Newmarket
Spring Meeting P

Here the dialogue, by a natural transition, turns on Horses,
and thence extends to things in general.

'ARRY ON CRUTCHES.

Dear Charlie,

Thanks many and large for the prime birth-day present you sent.
You must ha' bin nobblin' the ochre so much on your chum to 'ave spent.
A crutch-handled stick is percisely the very hidentical thing
As I wanted to put the last touch to my brand new tog-up for the Spring.

Which if I've a taste—arter gals and good smokes—'tis for toppers in sticks ;
They do give a chap sech a hair, don't yer know, when they 're up to the nicks.
I've a tidy collection myself, but this last lardy fashion,—well, there,—
It wouldn't quite run to it, Charlie—I 'adn't the spangles to spare.

I went for an arternoon prowl on'y yesterday, Charlie, and Lor'!
The gals eyed my nobby git up with a mingling of rapture and hor.
Yaller ulster and elbers well crook'd on the high perlite pump-'andle plan,
With a toothpick, ong sweet. Oh! I tell yer the Toffs wasn't in it, old man.

On'y wish yer wos with me, dear pal, to do ditto; becos, don't yer see,
To nick the thing up to the nines yer want two, or, still properer, three ;
Then yer wobbles along in a line, hands behind, in Pall Mall or tbe Park,
Like the three little stiff 'uns in wood wot yer find in a kid's Noah's Ark.

That's the form ; and it isn't a line you'd 'ave 'it on, permiskus, I guess;
It's genius, that's wot it is, spots new fakes in deportment and dress.
There must be a rare lot knocking round, though the Swells don't git credit for
much,

For it wasn't no or'nary mind as developed the toothpick and crutch.

'Ow rum things come round ! I remember my granny, a game-leg'd old gal,
Sort of Old Mother Hubbard, 'ad jest sech a crook 'andled stick, my dear pal;
I used to ride cockhorse upon it,'—and nab it sometimes on my nut,
Lor', 'ow she'd 'a goggled to see it adornin' a Swell's morning strut.

I suppose if the Toffs took a fancy for chewing a stror or a twig?

Like a tout or a hostler, or tumbled to carryin' a bludgeon as big

As a crib-cracker's nobby persuader, Pall Mall would be jolly soon gay

With blue-blooded blokes a green Cop might mistake for foot-pads on the lay.

'Owsomever, in course, style is style, and I've done this ere trick to a turn,
Though the hattitude's funny at fust, and the knee-wobble's orkurd to learn ;
I practised it well in my den, like I do cellar-flaps, or walks-round,
And if you could see me, you'd. say as it suits me right down to the ground.

That's where I've the pull, my dear boy—I've the tastes of a Toff of the day,
And that's why I tumble so slick to most hev'ry new park-prowler's lay.
It's nice that the Nobs don't go in for the nonsense some noodles call grace,
Which a feller carn't tumble to quite, while he's thinkin' of going the pace.

But you on'y wants tin to git togs, mate, and not so remarkable much,
For the Snips cut it finer and finer ; and as for yer toothpick and crutch,—
Well, Iwishwewos chums on the crawl, and I'd. show yer, old flick, 'ow to carry
The swell stick in silver and black sent to Yours obligatedly, 'Arrt

HORROR IN HYGEIAPOLIS.

"Sir W. Trevelyan has bequeathed his cellar of choice
wines to Dr. Eichardson, the well-known assailant of alco-
holic indulgence in all forms, and the Author of Hygeiapoli3,
the City of Health."—Newspaper Paragraph.

April 28th.—Arrival of "Bequest." Bulk of it taken
to cellar. Choice specimens arranged carefully on spe-
cially prepared shelves in Laboratory.

29th.—Commenced analysis on a bottle of "Oporto
wine," bearing the date of " 1824."

30th.—Continued investigations in Laboratory. Micro-
scopic tests show infusoria in solution at a temperature
of 270° Fahrenheit. Applied Spectrum analysis. Prot-
oxide of iron discoverable in deposits. Drank an
ounce at intervals. Range of pulse from seventy-two to
seventy-six. Memorandum. Found the after-taste not
unpleasant. Had a couple of glasses (oz. 5 "004—about)
at dinner. Effect on sensory motor centres peculiar.

May 3rd to 15th.—Finished specimens of '24 Port. Re-
plenished shelves with several good brands. Tested '' Im-
perial Tokay " for the phosphates, with interesting results.

16th to 23rd.—Still testing the Tokay for phosphates.
Drank from retort (oz. : 15.0172—about), at normal tem-
perature—very refreshing—but could detect nothing.
Pulse steady at eighty-four. Capital wine.

27 th.—Friends dropped in to lunch. Had up some
Hermitage, and drank to " Scientific Research." Refused
to wait and try test for nitrate of soda. {Mem.—Ar-
ranged to go to the Derby next month, and try the "fizz.")

June tth.—Continued the analysis in dining-room.
Tested, with a few more friends, one or two excellent
samples of Clos Yougeot for perchloride of copper. Found
none. Settled to come to supper on the 15th.

6th to 15th.—Busy investigating sparkling wines.
Formula as under:—Amount of carbonic acid in dozen
of Moselle at 64s. (excellent wine) about "3001. (For
further particulars, see Notes.)

16th— My birthday. Broke the retort. "Sample"
supper a great success. Took notes at table. Amount
of oxide of soda-water in five-gallons champagne-cup ?
Give it up. Test with tumblers for—per—perchloride ?
Queen's health? Now, then—one, more ! What say
finish up evening Laboratory ? Carried.

20th.—Still 'vestigating. Cap'tal fun! Have up dozen
of everything—test dozens? Thash waygetthrough't
quick. Eh ? Now, then, threetmsthree!—herestschience.
Down with comp'nees dult'ration—thatsnort thing!
Down p'rchloride—down evr'thing! All ri'. Tesht'nay.
Fact'n sen'srymotonerv ? Eh? 'Bsolutelynil. Goo'nigh'.