DOI Heft:
July to December, 1844
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16520#0124
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
117
SHAMEFUL CASE OF LETTER OPENING.
A. TALE OF THE BRITISH AND FOREIGN INSTITUTE.
We have received from a member of that absurd place of meeting
the two following letters, which we print at his request : —
Sm, August 16, 1844.
You will see by the stamp on the paper, that I am a member of j
a club which shall be nameless—but spose its in George Street, Anover
Square.
I ave friends, lovers of litteryture and members of that club.
Hal.der.man Codshead is a lover of litteryture and member of that clubb ;
M it. X-Sheriff Spettigue is a ditto ditto —and hah ! what tremlous
ixicement and dalicious hinflux of joy I ave ad, when Selina Spettigew,-
in her k'mary bonnit and pink muzzlin dress, attended our president's la*t
lecture on Jericho ! I was introdewst to her by the sheriff that day. It
was but the fommation of a wild iuheffable tremenduous passion on
my part. '
I m not the honly member of our club of the name of Jones, has you
well know. I'm not only not the only Jones, but I'm not the only
Samuel Jones—there's another S. J. (ang him, or if you will allow the
stronger word, pray don't bawk yourself.) there's another Samuel, the
captiog, late of the Oxiliary Legium, a great feller of near six foot high,
with f.nence beard and mistaches, who always smoax his filthy sigars, and
swells and swaggers hup and down the club-room as hif it was his own.
II even when Buckinham comes in, this great beast don't stir hisself or
tike lioff his at. You may then fansy what a rood monster he is. They
say he killed two gents in jewels in Spain : and though he's perpetuly
hectoring over me, of course / ain't a going to run the risk of gitten
myself anged for the pleasure of shootin' him. Besides 1 never fired a
pistol hoff in my life —but to my porpoise.
You must know this beest is always opening my letters. He's at the
IIinstitute from morning till night, and has I can only stepp in of an
evening when my establishment (Swan and Edgar's) is closed—of coarse
he has the pick and chetcs of the letters that come in. And I have my [
letters directed there as well as he has. It's more fashnable.
In this way the blaggerd has red many scoars of rny letters—those from
my Ma and Sisters—those from my Aunt Cowdv in Liverpool—from all
my friends in fact: for his curosity is perfectly insustiable. But once
when 1 opened one of his letters by mistake, the great broot snapt his j
Pngers close to my nose, and swoar he'd pull it if he ever found me
meddling with his corspondance again! The consquance now is, that 1 am
halways ableeged to wait now until he has opened both our sets of letters,
before I venter to look at mine. So that 1 hof't'n say (in bitterness of !
sperrit) c" there's two on 'em at my letters, Sam Jones and Sir James
Graham."
Well ! When I say I made a favorable impression on the art of Selina
Spettigew, on the night of that Lectur on Jericho—1 bleave 1 may say so
without fear of going wrong.
Old Spettigew. who had been asleep during the lecter with his
bandanner over his face, woak up where Buckinham came to a stop, and
said to ine.
'• You 've taken care of my Selina, Mr. Jones."
"Sir," says 1, "1 ave," and Selina's i's and mine met; and we blushed,
my, how we did blush !
" I'll teli you what, Jones, my boy," says he. (he knows my fammaly,)
" I'm blest ii I don't ask you to dinner." My art beat an hunderd a
minute ; I went and called a cab, and put the dear ladies in for Hunter
Street, their fammaly manshan, and Spetty and I ad some supper at the
Ilinstatute, which I stood—the appiest of human beings !
* * * *
Days roaled on—Spetty never asked me to dinner—I pined and pined
as I thought of Selina. I did'nt call in Unter Street. Pride pravented
nse : and bisness hours isn't over till eight. 1 saw Spetty at the lectur
on the tomb of Cheops' grandmother ( dalivered by Mr. B. ), but he
evoided me. I was too prowd to notice him—/ am not poor—/ am not
an adventurer seaking for faviours. My father is an aberdasher in the
west of Hengland, 1 am in London honly for my heducation.
Fansy then my disgust one day at hearing that other Sam Jones —
confound him—a standiu' among a score of other chaps, roaring with
Jafter, and making no end of fun—and imagin my luxry at overearing
him say—
" You know that little beast my namesake who comes to this infernal
hole. He's a haberdasher's apprentice. I open all his letters by mistake
— and have read °very word about his mama, and his sisters, and his aunt
Cowdt. Well sir, six weeUs ago, old Spettigue was here with his
daughter at Buck's lecture. The gal's a monstrous fine gal. I heard
Spst say he would ask the little brute to dinner. I got his invitation ;
answered it, and by Jove, sir, / went. Real turtle—and plenty of port
alter dinner."
Hearing this I was ha.'most busting with indignation. So I goes up to
the other Samuel Jones and I says, " Sir," says I, "your umble servant."
At this sarchasm the beest bust out laughing again—and all the other
(iel.ers as well—and lias for me—I, sir, cau bear it no longer.
Ham I to be robbed, my letters to be opened, to be bullied, laughed at,
in this dastardly way ? No sir, as you have taken the affares of the
Hinstitute in hand—I imploar you pint out the shameful impydinee
practised upon
Your constant reader,
Samuel Jones.
Sir, n. 4- F. I. August 18, 1844.
It 's too late now. You needn't put in that fust letter I wrote.
It's no good : no ballstm to a broken ait. Send me a straight wa^te-coat,
" Married at St. Pancras, by the Rev. Dr. Golightly, Samuel Jones, Esq.,
K.S.F., K.S.T., M.B. & F.I., late a Lieutenant in the service of her Most Catholic
Majesty, to Selina Scramjaw, only daughter of Mortimer Spettigce, Esq. 01
Hunter Street, Brunswick Square."
It's his reading my letters that has done it. This is the consequence
of the spy system.
No more from your unappy
Samuel Jones.
-
THE KENSINGTON RAILWAY.
a passenger at last !
An omnibus suddenly drew up at the Kensington and Wormwood
Scrubbs Little Western and No Junction Railway, at 35 m. p. 7, on
Saturday evening last: the sensation created was immense. On the roof
was observed a gentleman with a brown paper parcel ; the One Porter, in
stupified amazement rushed to the omnibus—the Gentleman threw down
his luggage, and scrambling down, demanded, in a trembling voice, if the
"train was gone." Bewildered by the strange question, the porter could
not answer, but, taking violently to his heels, ran over the way to fetch
the Clerk. Five minutes afterwards, a person in shirt sleeves, emerged
from the public-house opposite, and, with a curl on his lip, told the
Gentleman " he was the Clerk." The Gentleman gave a convulsive twitch
to his brown paper parcel, and mildly replied " he wished to go to Bath."
A cry was immediately raised of " Where's the Stoker ? " and a pot-boy
out of place, having volunteered as the Guard, was, after a consultation
of five minutes between the Clerk and the till, despatched to Hammer-
smith for a half hundred-weight of coals. The steam, however, was got
up in less than forty minutes, and, at about ^ p. 8, the Special train
started, with its one passenger, for Bath. In the evening the office was
lighted up with gas, and the Clerk invited the Conductor and Cad of the
Omnibus to an elegant souper of Welsh rabbits and cheroots, in com-
memoration of this event. The beer was of the best XXX.
Malicious Report.
It is not true that Lord Brougham is at present editor of the MomiKp
Herald. His letters to that paper, we believe, are paid for at the tieual
Standard rate of so many farthings a line.
117
SHAMEFUL CASE OF LETTER OPENING.
A. TALE OF THE BRITISH AND FOREIGN INSTITUTE.
We have received from a member of that absurd place of meeting
the two following letters, which we print at his request : —
Sm, August 16, 1844.
You will see by the stamp on the paper, that I am a member of j
a club which shall be nameless—but spose its in George Street, Anover
Square.
I ave friends, lovers of litteryture and members of that club.
Hal.der.man Codshead is a lover of litteryture and member of that clubb ;
M it. X-Sheriff Spettigue is a ditto ditto —and hah ! what tremlous
ixicement and dalicious hinflux of joy I ave ad, when Selina Spettigew,-
in her k'mary bonnit and pink muzzlin dress, attended our president's la*t
lecture on Jericho ! I was introdewst to her by the sheriff that day. It
was but the fommation of a wild iuheffable tremenduous passion on
my part. '
I m not the honly member of our club of the name of Jones, has you
well know. I'm not only not the only Jones, but I'm not the only
Samuel Jones—there's another S. J. (ang him, or if you will allow the
stronger word, pray don't bawk yourself.) there's another Samuel, the
captiog, late of the Oxiliary Legium, a great feller of near six foot high,
with f.nence beard and mistaches, who always smoax his filthy sigars, and
swells and swaggers hup and down the club-room as hif it was his own.
II even when Buckinham comes in, this great beast don't stir hisself or
tike lioff his at. You may then fansy what a rood monster he is. They
say he killed two gents in jewels in Spain : and though he's perpetuly
hectoring over me, of course / ain't a going to run the risk of gitten
myself anged for the pleasure of shootin' him. Besides 1 never fired a
pistol hoff in my life —but to my porpoise.
You must know this beest is always opening my letters. He's at the
IIinstitute from morning till night, and has I can only stepp in of an
evening when my establishment (Swan and Edgar's) is closed—of coarse
he has the pick and chetcs of the letters that come in. And I have my [
letters directed there as well as he has. It's more fashnable.
In this way the blaggerd has red many scoars of rny letters—those from
my Ma and Sisters—those from my Aunt Cowdv in Liverpool—from all
my friends in fact: for his curosity is perfectly insustiable. But once
when 1 opened one of his letters by mistake, the great broot snapt his j
Pngers close to my nose, and swoar he'd pull it if he ever found me
meddling with his corspondance again! The consquance now is, that 1 am
halways ableeged to wait now until he has opened both our sets of letters,
before I venter to look at mine. So that 1 hof't'n say (in bitterness of !
sperrit) c" there's two on 'em at my letters, Sam Jones and Sir James
Graham."
Well ! When I say I made a favorable impression on the art of Selina
Spettigew, on the night of that Lectur on Jericho—1 bleave 1 may say so
without fear of going wrong.
Old Spettigew. who had been asleep during the lecter with his
bandanner over his face, woak up where Buckinham came to a stop, and
said to ine.
'• You 've taken care of my Selina, Mr. Jones."
"Sir," says 1, "1 ave," and Selina's i's and mine met; and we blushed,
my, how we did blush !
" I'll teli you what, Jones, my boy," says he. (he knows my fammaly,)
" I'm blest ii I don't ask you to dinner." My art beat an hunderd a
minute ; I went and called a cab, and put the dear ladies in for Hunter
Street, their fammaly manshan, and Spetty and I ad some supper at the
Ilinstatute, which I stood—the appiest of human beings !
* * * *
Days roaled on—Spetty never asked me to dinner—I pined and pined
as I thought of Selina. I did'nt call in Unter Street. Pride pravented
nse : and bisness hours isn't over till eight. 1 saw Spetty at the lectur
on the tomb of Cheops' grandmother ( dalivered by Mr. B. ), but he
evoided me. I was too prowd to notice him—/ am not poor—/ am not
an adventurer seaking for faviours. My father is an aberdasher in the
west of Hengland, 1 am in London honly for my heducation.
Fansy then my disgust one day at hearing that other Sam Jones —
confound him—a standiu' among a score of other chaps, roaring with
Jafter, and making no end of fun—and imagin my luxry at overearing
him say—
" You know that little beast my namesake who comes to this infernal
hole. He's a haberdasher's apprentice. I open all his letters by mistake
— and have read °very word about his mama, and his sisters, and his aunt
Cowdt. Well sir, six weeUs ago, old Spettigue was here with his
daughter at Buck's lecture. The gal's a monstrous fine gal. I heard
Spst say he would ask the little brute to dinner. I got his invitation ;
answered it, and by Jove, sir, / went. Real turtle—and plenty of port
alter dinner."
Hearing this I was ha.'most busting with indignation. So I goes up to
the other Samuel Jones and I says, " Sir," says I, "your umble servant."
At this sarchasm the beest bust out laughing again—and all the other
(iel.ers as well—and lias for me—I, sir, cau bear it no longer.
Ham I to be robbed, my letters to be opened, to be bullied, laughed at,
in this dastardly way ? No sir, as you have taken the affares of the
Hinstitute in hand—I imploar you pint out the shameful impydinee
practised upon
Your constant reader,
Samuel Jones.
Sir, n. 4- F. I. August 18, 1844.
It 's too late now. You needn't put in that fust letter I wrote.
It's no good : no ballstm to a broken ait. Send me a straight wa^te-coat,
" Married at St. Pancras, by the Rev. Dr. Golightly, Samuel Jones, Esq.,
K.S.F., K.S.T., M.B. & F.I., late a Lieutenant in the service of her Most Catholic
Majesty, to Selina Scramjaw, only daughter of Mortimer Spettigce, Esq. 01
Hunter Street, Brunswick Square."
It's his reading my letters that has done it. This is the consequence
of the spy system.
No more from your unappy
Samuel Jones.
-
THE KENSINGTON RAILWAY.
a passenger at last !
An omnibus suddenly drew up at the Kensington and Wormwood
Scrubbs Little Western and No Junction Railway, at 35 m. p. 7, on
Saturday evening last: the sensation created was immense. On the roof
was observed a gentleman with a brown paper parcel ; the One Porter, in
stupified amazement rushed to the omnibus—the Gentleman threw down
his luggage, and scrambling down, demanded, in a trembling voice, if the
"train was gone." Bewildered by the strange question, the porter could
not answer, but, taking violently to his heels, ran over the way to fetch
the Clerk. Five minutes afterwards, a person in shirt sleeves, emerged
from the public-house opposite, and, with a curl on his lip, told the
Gentleman " he was the Clerk." The Gentleman gave a convulsive twitch
to his brown paper parcel, and mildly replied " he wished to go to Bath."
A cry was immediately raised of " Where's the Stoker ? " and a pot-boy
out of place, having volunteered as the Guard, was, after a consultation
of five minutes between the Clerk and the till, despatched to Hammer-
smith for a half hundred-weight of coals. The steam, however, was got
up in less than forty minutes, and, at about ^ p. 8, the Special train
started, with its one passenger, for Bath. In the evening the office was
lighted up with gas, and the Clerk invited the Conductor and Cad of the
Omnibus to an elegant souper of Welsh rabbits and cheroots, in com-
memoration of this event. The beer was of the best XXX.
Malicious Report.
It is not true that Lord Brougham is at present editor of the MomiKp
Herald. His letters to that paper, we believe, are paid for at the tieual
Standard rate of so many farthings a line.