Punch (77.1879)

16

PUNCH, OE THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[July 19, 1879.

APPEARANCES.

Hairdresser. " Tremendious 'ed of 'air, Sir! Better let me cut the

'ole of it hoef ! 1'

Eminent Violinist. "Why?"

Hairdresser. "Well, you 'll excuse my sayin' so, but it makes you

look like one of them FlDDLER chaps, you know ! "

A YOICE FROM THE WEST.

Things be terruble bad down bere I d'azzures 'e now, good Measter Punch,

Never avore i' me life zeed I veaces zo dour an' zo dunch

As I zeed at our last rent audit; tbo' tb' Steward were smilin' an' kind,

And tb' dinner 'twere a good dinner, an' noo vaiit t' find wi' th' wind.

Tisn't we varmers' losses ! We be moast gotten used to tbat;

'Tis tbe landlord's cares an' crosses, an' tb' trouble he 's got under bis hat!

How can he 'unt tb' 'ounds, an' gie we th' anneral ball,

Ef things goos on like this, an' rents continers to vail ?

Noo kippers there '11 be, an' noo watchers, noo spannels, noo pheasants,

Noo shuttin' at all, a'moast, an' not noo zort o' geame vor noo presents !

What's th' use o' gurt House ef there isn't t' be noo moore eatin' an' drinkin'?

An' marble balls vor me Lord t' zit in, cheese-parin' an' thinkin' ?

Not a geame o' cairds I zuppose, ne'er a bet, nor noo spoort at noo reaces ;

What's th' use o' gentry at all ef th' can't kip up tbirzelves i' th'r pleaces !

Let tb' times be nivver zo hard, I shall still, I zuppose, ha' a voate ;

But what es th' use o' a v'ice a-kept a-stuck down i' y'r droate !

I do like vor th' agent to come, an' th' lawyer zo joc'ler and jolly,

An' th' canderdate kissin' th' missus—tho' I own that mid be a folly :

There's a chance then th' agent to pin, to git vrom un what things y' mid wont,

An' ef I do gi'e un my voate, why, I tell 'e, I think nothing on't!

To goo voatin' 'ithout a kind friend just oone's fancy an' faviour to fix,

'Tis like fillin' a zieve wi' dry zand, or bildin' a tun 'ithout bricks.

Why th' zosiarable vabric, be zure, u'd crumble away in a week,

Ef man onto man wer'dn't kind, a tryin' b's best int'rests t' zeek !

Vor Old England's zeake I do wish they'd clap on purtection agean—

'Tis zo plain as th' nose on y'r veace, or how many meake vive to a bean !

'Ithout it noo_ varmer can thrive, nor noo landlord his

high steation maintain,
Nor noo banker git his little pickin's ! So y'r zarvent I

now d' remain.

Jere Smallbones.

P.S.—Ef ye care vor t' hear vrom th' West, I mid zend 'e,

b'times, a short letter ;
They mid tell 'e that I be a fool, but I tell 'e that I do

_ knaw better:
This 'ere agaricult'ral distress I've studied th' case vor

zo long,

That out ov my zufferin's at last, as the pote zes, I've
bust into zong !

FROM OUR CLIMBING CONTRIBUTOR.

Account of a terrific ascent of the celebrated Ritupatopza
Cone, and of all the highest points of the hitherto
inaccessible ^Hiarandhia Mountains, in a Letter to
the Editor, bearing date two weeks ago.*

Sir,—When you appointed me your Climbing Corre-
spondent, you did well and wisely.

"Excelsior" is my motto, and " Excelserwaterior "
when I can't get anything better.

This, you may think, is levity, but I am a light climber,
as I am a light sleeper—in fact I have a horror of any
man who is a dark sleeper. Mind, it's a dark " sleeper
that upsets the train—and that will upset my train of
thought, if I allow myself to dwell any more on this
fascinating but abstruse subject.

You, Sir, wanted me to do the Matterhorn.

"The Matterhorn be blowed! " I replied, gaily, and
then went,.on to show that the Matterhorn had been
blown long ago by somebody who only wanted to trumpet
his own fame to the world. But your object, Sir, was
simply to sound me. In return, I gave no uncertain
note.f I made an advance—a friend in your interests
made anotherj—and away I went.

I will not descant on the terrible moment of parting.
I had to tear myself away from the partner of my bosom,
to bid her leave the weekly bills till my return, which I
pretended '' would be in about ten minutes, as I was only
going to call on my solicitor," and then locking the door on
her and descending the stairs, five steps at once, alpen-
stock in hand, I gained the street just in time to put up
my umbrella suddenly, and so avoid either a fiower-pot,
or a waterjug, or a slop-basin—I had not the heart to
stay to examine what it was—that my wife, in her
supreme agony, probably stretching out her arms to call
me back—I'm glad I wasn't within a yard _of them—
had upset in a very paroxysm of grief.

" Call me back," did I say! She would have called me
something else, much stronger, had I stayed to hear it.
But I didn't. I did not wish to have le cceur brise, ni la
tete non plus, Allez ! as we say at the Comedie Fran-
caise,—I mean in Paris, not London, as of course I am
miles away from that gay and festive scene.

In a minute afterwards her head was out of window,
and I heard her shrieking after me—

" Always the same to your old wife Joan ! "

—words of the song, you know, but very much out of

* Note by Editor.—It is absolutely necessary to preface this
letter, and any others that may appear from the same source,
with the remark that, for the life of us, we can't remember who
eur Climbing Contributor is, where he climbed from, or where
he 's climbing to. He asserts, as it appears from internal
evidence in his otherwise interesting and doubtlessly truthful
narrative, that we appointed him officially " Our Climbing Con-
tributor" for the coming season. We have no recollection of
having so far committed ourselves; and, indeed, to have any-
thing to do with the employment of a Climbing Boy, would bo
contrary both to our principles, and to an Act of Parliament to
that effect made and provided, all to the contrary notwith-
standing, &c. We j ust make this statement, in case of a difficulty
arising.

t Note by Editor.—Sot quite so sure of that. We remember
this circumstance well. It was a five-pound note, and we declined
it with thanks, not having sufficient change about us to cash it
at the moment, though if he had only called the week before,
it might have been done, and so, perhaps, might we. If we
do our Climbing Contributor an unintentional wrong m mistak-
ing him for somebody else, we heartily beg his pardon, and hope
he '11 call at our office and set matters right.

J This is the first we've heard of it. Though probably not
the last.—Ed.