Punch / Almanack (1874)

December 18, 1873-3

PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOB 1874

UNITED KINGDOM ALLIANCE GLEE.

Mynheer van Dunk never used to get
drunk ;

He drank toast-and water gaily ;

And he quenched his thirst, when it came
to the worst,

With sherbet in the summer daily.

Singing, “Sober a Dutchman’s draught
should be,

Though deep as the rolling Zuyder-Zee.”

Water, well mingled with sugar, good
store,

No Hollander dreams of scorning;

But of spirits or beer he drinks no more
Than mine host supplies
When a cabman cries

For his purl of a Sunday morning.

For a Dutchman’s draught should
sober be,

Though deep as the rolling Zuyder-
Zee.

Guidance in Gallantry.—Never at-
tend any lady, to whom you think of
making yourself agreeable, to any play,
opera, or other performance, that you
want to hear. You cannot attend to both
it and her. The same remark applies to
your plate before you on the dinner-
table and the attraction at your side.
Moreover, whenever you take the object
of your affections anywhere, in the hope
of seeing or listening to anything with
enjoyment enhanced by her society, be
always prepared for the probability of
her being taken with an interesting in-
disposition.

Clergy and Cannibals.—We shudder
at the feasts of savages who devour mis-
sionaries, but do not consider perhaps so
seriously as we might with what disgust
we ourselves may be regarded by some
of our neighbours, who, acquainted by
report only with our insular manners
and customs, are informed that the na-
tives of this island eat Bishops’ Thumbs,
Parsons’ Noses, and Popes’ Eyes.

Wrong Colours.—Black books, black
looks, blacklegs, blue devils, blue ruin,
red noses, red tape, grey mares, white lies,
white feathers, white squalls, greenbacks,
greenhorns, and the green-eyed monster.

Woman’s Work in the Church.—Em-
broidery, bouquets, and Ritualists’ stoles,
copes, and petticoats.

THE WONDERS OF THE DEEP.

Paddy. “Be Jabers! the forest Thoime I iver saw Rid Hirrins swisimin’ about
aloive before ! ”

AMIABLE OLD GENTLEMAN.

Many happy New Years
Do you wish me, my dears?

New Tears happy not only but many
not few ?

Don’t care when you come in
For the old Fogy’s tin ?

I'm sure that is very unselfish of
you.

Eh?

The Voice of the Stars.—Those born
on the first three days of February, as
well as on all other days in any month of
the year, will be liable to colds, if they
sit a long time in draughts of air or in
damp clothes. Let them shun dealings
with patent-medicine vendors, mesme-
rists, mediums, fortune-tellers, astro-
logers, and old humbugs.

To Poach Eggs.—Put on a suit of black,
a broad-brimmed bat, and a pair of
spectacles ; sling a wallet at your back,
take a walking-cane in your hand, go
into the woods, botanise, put into your
wallet all the plants you pick, and all
the pheasants’ and partridges’ eggs you
find in your way into your pockets.

A Seasonable Quotation. —All the
Editors of Gray have most unaccountably
failed to perceive that in the line where
he speaks of “the weights, that play be-
low,” the true reading must be “ Waits.”

Plucky Answer. — Examiner — What
was Archimedes’s Screw ? Candidate—
An unsound, broken-down horse, wanting
whip and spur to make him go, that
Archimedes was flat enough to buy.

Metrical Idealism.—On the birthday
of Alexandra, Princess of Wales, the
Poet Laureate will perhaps compose an
Ode in Alexandrine verses.

Prison Thought.—“When’s a Chris-
tian,” said a Poacher in gaol to himself,
“ sarved the same as a hare ?—When be’s
jugged, like I be.”

Sentiment for Winter. — The Old
Woman about this time may be expected
to Pick her Goose ; may the fall of snow
be unaccompanied by a rise in coal.

Verb.—“To Live ” has but one ten se-
ttle Imperfect.

The Best Smelling Bottles. — Old
Port Wine.

TOO SHOCKING TO THINK OF.

Mrs. Houard Talbot Percy do Ponxmby Jones.

“ What.’ // My dear Lord Volauvent ! ‘ Beaxjty without Birth or Breeding ■'

Why, the thing's impossible !! ”