Punch or The London charivari: Punch or The London charivari (2.1842)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 35

Can two lovers' vows be the same word for word ?

His name is demanded—but exquisite folly, 0 !

'Twixt two female furnaces in saunters Pullio!

Oh, who can do justice to each lovely stormer—

The duped Adetyisa — the desperate Norma ?

Right and left he comes in for it,—really Miss Kemble

Is enough to make poor Mr. Harrison tremble.

And then, on the other hand, charming Miss Rainforth,

In accents contemptuous pours her disdain forth ;

He tries to assuage her, to nothing she'll listen, .

With lightning the eyes of Miss K. seem to glisten :

Miss R. turns in horror and scorn from his side.

And tells him to stick to his termagant bride ;

And the fate of poor Harrison seems quite uncertain,

When, lucky for him, they let down the act curtain,

And, presto, in lieu of the Druids we hear,

"Apples, oranges, bill of the play, ginger-beer !"

barrow-nial retainers.

[Act 2 next week.]

THE OMNIBUS CAD'S VOCABULARY;

OR, THE IDIOMS OF CONDUCTORS, DONE INTO ENGLISH. 7^° 7eal* P"mp8' ^ th\°W

ner ; or if they dare to do so, nobody gets any—unless it be the
odd-shaped trimmings of sipp( t-like sandwiches, any pastry that
may be overbaked or slightly scorched, the rebellious blancmange
which refuses to turn out properly, the legs of lobsters, or an ingeni-
ously-contrived and extempore xol-au-rent of all these things put-
together.

Towards evening, everything is pronounced to be properly in, or
rather out of, its place ; and the family contrive, by dint of extreme
perseverance, to get a cup of tea in the still-room. But the vexa-
tions are not yet concluded. Various little notes arrive, which do
anything but put the hostess in
a good humour. First of all,
somebody whom you particu-
larly wished to be present—
in fact, for whom the party was
almost given—sends a melan-
choly statement of the very
acute stage of influenza under
which they are labouring,
" which they extremely regret
will prevent them from ac-
cepting," &c. Then Miss

M—— or N- (as the case

may be), one of the intended
belles of the evening, who flirts,
sings, and waltzes, is obliged
to go suddenly into the coun-
try on a visit to an old aunt;
but her two brothers — tall,
gangling, awkward young men,

Lingua Cadda. Translation.

"Ste— 'ank!
Nich I 'Wich !
"Ngton! .
Mpton !

'Smith ! 'Smith !
'Ng down, sir ?
A Han gel,
A Helephant,
A Blue Boar,
A Saracen,

Plenty of room, ma'am,
'Ony stop here a minute, sir,

City—Bank.

Greenwich and Woolwich.
Paddington or Islington.
Brompton.
Hammersmith.
Going down the road, sir ?
Passengers taken up at Islington. ably most happy to come—

» Newington. 1 quite delighted—and you are

Holborn. overdone with men already.

their legs about, when they
are dancing, everywhere but
over their shoulders, and whom
you were compelled to invite
with their sister, although you
would never have dreamt of
them otherwise— are invari-

<> Snow-hilL
Sixteen inside.

The space of time accessary for the discussion of
a glass of brandy-and-water, a sheeroot, and a
chat with the bar-maid.
Going on directly, . An indefinite period, varying from ten minutes to

half ;in hour, and regulated by the number of
passengers.

THE PHYSIOLOGY OF LONDON EVENING

PARTIES.

IV.— IN WHICH AN ACCOUNT OF THE PREPARATIONS IS CONTINUED.

Y the afternoon of the

And lastly, when it has become
really a matter of serious con-
sideration where you can stow
all your guests without making

your rooms resemble the hold of a slave-ship too closely, four or five
of the least intimate write off to inform you that they intend taking
the liberty o bringing some young friends with them who are staying
in their house, i. e. for about, ten minutes before they start off for
yours. And it is a most melancholy truth, which may be taken as a
general rule, that ordinary uninteresting persons always jump at your
invitation (when you yourself are merely concerned about the
attractive girls and presentable young men, who will look effective
in youi rooms) with the certainty and velocity of bleak at a piece of
day, the bouleversement of I greaves when you are fishing for roach alone.

the ill-fated mansion has I At length all the preparations are completed, and a temporary
reached its highest point; quiet reigns through the house ; but it is like the lull of the elements
ilmost participating in after a boisterous day in March, before it begins to rain. The last

ring has brought the last parcel to the door, which of course ought
to have arrived first in the morning ; the small children have been
rapidly undressed and put to bed with the wild notion that they will
stay there, and not walk calmly down stairs some three or four hours
afterwards in their night-gowns, with their little naked white tootsy-

the appearance which a
furnished doll's - house
would present after be-
ing rolled down stairs
from the nursery to the

drawing-room. We do ' pootsies (the nursery patois for tiny feet) pattering on the cold floor-

cloth : the governesses in families where they are not going to give a
party have marched all their young ladies, hoops, and la grace sticks out
of the square, and are thinking about changing their collars for dinner;
the last views have dissolved—the last diver has gone down, and the
last Royal George blown up at the Polytechnic Institution ; the west-
end idlers have disappeared no one knows where, nor ever will; and
the last clang of the milkpails has echoed down the areas ; in fact, to
the majority of the world the labours of the day have concluded,
excepting policemen, actors, waiters, medical men, and people who
give parties. The last crawl upstairs to dress, in whatever part of
the house their toilet appointments have been transported to, in an
extreme state of exhaustion ; and, perfectly ready to go to bed, com-
mence preparations for receiving two hundred guests, and looking to
course on a day like this ! their individual comforts, until a period of the ensuing morning when
nobody thinks about din- | early risers are thinking about getting up.

not exactly know in
what state the kitchen
remains, for we have
never yet been bold
enough to venture down
to its Acherontic pre-
cincts ; but from certain
vague glimpses occasi-
onally obtained through
the medium of the area
windows, we imagine it
must offer an aspect
of wild confusion. Of