DOI issue:
January to June, 1845
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16521#0058
62
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
MRS. CAUDLE'S CURTAIN LECTURES.
LECTURE III.
mr. caudle joins a club,—" the skylarks."
* I'm sure a poor ■woman had better be in her grave than married !
That is, if she can't be married to a decent man ! No : I don't care
if you are tired, I shan't let you go to sleep. No, and I won't say
what I have to say in the morning ; I '11 say it now. It's all very
well for you to come home at what time you like—it's now half-past
twelve—and expect I'm to hold my tongue, and let you go to sleep.
What next, I wonder ? A woman had better be sold for a slave at j always flies to. You don't see itVred ? No—-I dare "saynot—but
ail ; or, Father, you'd better bring him once. Yes, I should like to
see him. He wouldn't forget it A man who, I may say, lives and
moves only in a spittoon. A man who has a pipe in his mouth as
constant as his front teeth. A sort of tavern king, with a lot of
fools, like you, to laugh at what he thinks his jokes, and give him
consequence. No, Mr. Caudle, no ; it's no use your telling me to
go to sleep, for I won't. Go to sleep, indeed ! I'm sure it's almost
time to get up. I hardly know what's the use of coming to bed at
all now.
"The Skylarks, indeed! I suppose you'll be buying a ' Little
Warbler,' and at your time of life, be trying to sing. The peacocks
will sing next. A pretty name you'll get in the neighbourhood;
and, in a very little time, a nice face you'll have. Your nose is
getting redder already : and you've just one of the noses that liquor
once- I I see it ; / see a great many things vou don't. And so you '11 go on.
" And so you've gone and joined a club ! The Skylarks, indeed ! | tn a little timej with your brandv-and-water—don't tell me that you
A pretty skylark you '11 make of yourself ! But I won't stay and be j only take tw0 small gias9es . j k"now wbat men?s tw0 small giasses
ruined by you. No : I'm determined of that. I '11 go and take the j are . in a littie time you >u have a face all over as if it was made of
dear children, and you may get who you like to keep your house, j re(j currant jam. And I should like to know who's to endure you
That is, as long as you have a house to keep—and that won't be long,; then ? I won't, and so don't think it. Don't come to me.
I know. "Nice habits men learn at clubs ! There's Joskins: he was a
" How any decent man can go and spend his nights in a tavern !— j decent creature once, and now I'm told he has more than once
oh, yes, Mr. Caudle ; I dare say you do go for rational conversation, j boxed his wife's ears. He's a Skylark, too. And I suppose, some
I should like to know how many of you would care for what you call day, you'll be trying to box my ears 1 Don't attempt it, Mr
rational conversation, if you had it without your filthy brandy-and- Caudle ; I sav don't attempt it, ' Yes—it's all very well for you to
water; yes, and your more filthy tobacco-smoke. I'm sure the last say you don't'mean it —but i only say again, don't attempt it
time you came home, I had the head-ache for a week. But I know You'd rue it till the day of your death, Ma. Caudle.
who it is who's taking you to destruction. It's that brute, Pretty- « Going and sitting for four hours at a tavern ! What men, unless
man. He has broken his own poor wife's heart, and now he wants 1 they had their wives with them, can find to talk about, I can't think,
to—but don't you think it, Mr. Caudle ; I'll not have my peace of ! ]sf0 good, of course.
mind destroyed by the best man that ever trod. Oh, yes ! I know j « Eigh'teen-pence a week—and drinking brandy-and-water, enough
you don't care so long as you can appear well to all the world,—but J to swim a boat! And smoking like the funnel of a steam-shin !
the world little thinks how you behave to me. It shall know it, j And I can't afford myself so much as a piece of tape ! It's brutal,
though—that I'm determined. j Mr. Caudle. It's ve-ve-ve—ry bru-tai."
" How any man can leave his own happy fireside to go and sit, and j
smoke, and drink, and talk with people who wouldn't one of'em
lift a finger to save him from hanging—how any man can leave his
wife—and a good wife, too, though I say it—for a parcel of pot-
companions—oh, it's disgraceful, Mr. Caudle : it's unfeeling. No
man who had the least love for his wife could do it.
" And I suppose this is to be the case every Saturday ? But I
know what I'll do. I know—it's no use, Mr. Caudle, your calling
me a good creature : I'm not such a fool as to be coaxed in that way
And, says a note in the MS. by Mr. Caudle—" Here, thank
heaven ! yawning, she fell asleep."
MURDER IN SPORT.
No ; L: you want to go to sleep, you should come home in Christian j0$^ Jt0M the statement of Mr. Grantlet Berkeley,
time, not at half-past twelve. There was a time, when you were as BsgQ^ it seems that the killing of game, on the part of
regular at your fireside as the kettle. That was when" you were a J^^S^5^ anybody but the proprietor, is nothing more nor
decent man, and didn't go amongst. Heaven knows who, drinking Ifev less than murder. Could not the Honourable
, , ° . ., T ' , " !K><J __gentleman take a rather more lenient view of the
and smoking, and making what you think your mkes. ± never neard »Jj<v'B YVS^ a i i i* ? n u
. °' >t ,1 £w<r fr sXsi matter and make it game-slaughter ? It would
any good come to a man who cared about jokes. No respectable AXP be rather hard to hang a poor labourer for
tradesman does. But I know what I'll do : I'll scare away your | f]J$^ j^ss?^^ shooting a hare, even though he committed the
Skylarks. The house serves liquor after twelve of a Saturday ; and
if I don't write to the magistrates, and have the license taken away,
I'm not lying in this bed this night. Yes, you may call me a foolish
woman ; but no, Mr. Caudle, no ; it's you who are the foolish man :
or worse than a foolish man ; you're—a wicked one. If you were to
die to-morrow—and people who go to public-houses do all they can
to shorten their lives—I should like to know who would write upon
your tombstone, ' A tender husband and an affectionate father.'
/—I'd have no such falsehoods told of you, I can assure you.
" Going and spending your money, and—nonsense ! don't tell me
—no, if you yvere to ten times swear it, I wouldn't believe that you
only spent eighteen-pence on a Saturday. You can't be all those
hours, and only spend eighteen-pence. I know better. I'm not
quite a fool, Mr. Caudle. A great deal you could have for eighteen-
pence ! And all the Club married men and fathers of families. The
more shame for 'em ! Skylarks, indeed ! They should call them-
selves Vultures; for they can only do as they do by robbing their
innocent wives and children. Eighteen-pence a week ! And if it
was only that,—do you know what fifty-two eighteen-pences come
to in a year ? Do you ever think of that, and see the gowns I wear ?
I'm sure I can't, cut of the house-money, buy myself a pincushion ;
though I've yvauted one these six months. No—not so much as a mortality at Paris.
ball of cotton. But yvhat do you care so you can get your brandy- Died, last month, at her residence in the Jardin des Plantes, the
and-water ? There's the girls, too—the things they yvant! They 're Giraffe. A too plentiful repast of gingerbread nuts is supposed to hare
never dressed like other people's children. But it's all the same to hastened her death. She has left a large number of cakewomen, whom
their father. Oh yes ! So he can go with his Skylarks they may she maintained by her appetite, to deplore her loss. The Giraffe is to
was.? sackcloth for pinafores, and packthread for garters. have the honour of stuffing paid to her remains, and will shortly be laib
* You'd better not let that Mr. Pretty-hian come here, that's j out in straw in the Musee d'Histoire NaLur.elle.
act with hunger prepense. Mr. Grantlet
Berkeley, we presume, will maintain that
shooting at game with iutent to kill, whether
you hit it or not, is the next thing to murder.
If so, and could his views become law. what a
number of cockney sportsmen would be trans-
ported merely for wasting powder and shot!
We should like to know whether Mr. Berks-
ley considers a clerk, or a medical student, who dines off' jugged hare at
an eating-house, an accessory after the fact : and also, whether he looks
in the same light at anybody who sups on a poached egg.
Mathematical Examination Paper.
Q. What is an eccentric angle ?
A. To fish for salt herrings in soda water.
Q. If 11-t D represent a member of a force, required how long will he
have a constant area !
A. As long as Betty smuggles joints from the kitchen.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
MRS. CAUDLE'S CURTAIN LECTURES.
LECTURE III.
mr. caudle joins a club,—" the skylarks."
* I'm sure a poor ■woman had better be in her grave than married !
That is, if she can't be married to a decent man ! No : I don't care
if you are tired, I shan't let you go to sleep. No, and I won't say
what I have to say in the morning ; I '11 say it now. It's all very
well for you to come home at what time you like—it's now half-past
twelve—and expect I'm to hold my tongue, and let you go to sleep.
What next, I wonder ? A woman had better be sold for a slave at j always flies to. You don't see itVred ? No—-I dare "saynot—but
ail ; or, Father, you'd better bring him once. Yes, I should like to
see him. He wouldn't forget it A man who, I may say, lives and
moves only in a spittoon. A man who has a pipe in his mouth as
constant as his front teeth. A sort of tavern king, with a lot of
fools, like you, to laugh at what he thinks his jokes, and give him
consequence. No, Mr. Caudle, no ; it's no use your telling me to
go to sleep, for I won't. Go to sleep, indeed ! I'm sure it's almost
time to get up. I hardly know what's the use of coming to bed at
all now.
"The Skylarks, indeed! I suppose you'll be buying a ' Little
Warbler,' and at your time of life, be trying to sing. The peacocks
will sing next. A pretty name you'll get in the neighbourhood;
and, in a very little time, a nice face you'll have. Your nose is
getting redder already : and you've just one of the noses that liquor
once- I I see it ; / see a great many things vou don't. And so you '11 go on.
" And so you've gone and joined a club ! The Skylarks, indeed ! | tn a little timej with your brandv-and-water—don't tell me that you
A pretty skylark you '11 make of yourself ! But I won't stay and be j only take tw0 small gias9es . j k"now wbat men?s tw0 small giasses
ruined by you. No : I'm determined of that. I '11 go and take the j are . in a littie time you >u have a face all over as if it was made of
dear children, and you may get who you like to keep your house, j re(j currant jam. And I should like to know who's to endure you
That is, as long as you have a house to keep—and that won't be long,; then ? I won't, and so don't think it. Don't come to me.
I know. "Nice habits men learn at clubs ! There's Joskins: he was a
" How any decent man can go and spend his nights in a tavern !— j decent creature once, and now I'm told he has more than once
oh, yes, Mr. Caudle ; I dare say you do go for rational conversation, j boxed his wife's ears. He's a Skylark, too. And I suppose, some
I should like to know how many of you would care for what you call day, you'll be trying to box my ears 1 Don't attempt it, Mr
rational conversation, if you had it without your filthy brandy-and- Caudle ; I sav don't attempt it, ' Yes—it's all very well for you to
water; yes, and your more filthy tobacco-smoke. I'm sure the last say you don't'mean it —but i only say again, don't attempt it
time you came home, I had the head-ache for a week. But I know You'd rue it till the day of your death, Ma. Caudle.
who it is who's taking you to destruction. It's that brute, Pretty- « Going and sitting for four hours at a tavern ! What men, unless
man. He has broken his own poor wife's heart, and now he wants 1 they had their wives with them, can find to talk about, I can't think,
to—but don't you think it, Mr. Caudle ; I'll not have my peace of ! ]sf0 good, of course.
mind destroyed by the best man that ever trod. Oh, yes ! I know j « Eigh'teen-pence a week—and drinking brandy-and-water, enough
you don't care so long as you can appear well to all the world,—but J to swim a boat! And smoking like the funnel of a steam-shin !
the world little thinks how you behave to me. It shall know it, j And I can't afford myself so much as a piece of tape ! It's brutal,
though—that I'm determined. j Mr. Caudle. It's ve-ve-ve—ry bru-tai."
" How any man can leave his own happy fireside to go and sit, and j
smoke, and drink, and talk with people who wouldn't one of'em
lift a finger to save him from hanging—how any man can leave his
wife—and a good wife, too, though I say it—for a parcel of pot-
companions—oh, it's disgraceful, Mr. Caudle : it's unfeeling. No
man who had the least love for his wife could do it.
" And I suppose this is to be the case every Saturday ? But I
know what I'll do. I know—it's no use, Mr. Caudle, your calling
me a good creature : I'm not such a fool as to be coaxed in that way
And, says a note in the MS. by Mr. Caudle—" Here, thank
heaven ! yawning, she fell asleep."
MURDER IN SPORT.
No ; L: you want to go to sleep, you should come home in Christian j0$^ Jt0M the statement of Mr. Grantlet Berkeley,
time, not at half-past twelve. There was a time, when you were as BsgQ^ it seems that the killing of game, on the part of
regular at your fireside as the kettle. That was when" you were a J^^S^5^ anybody but the proprietor, is nothing more nor
decent man, and didn't go amongst. Heaven knows who, drinking Ifev less than murder. Could not the Honourable
, , ° . ., T ' , " !K><J __gentleman take a rather more lenient view of the
and smoking, and making what you think your mkes. ± never neard »Jj<v'B YVS^ a i i i* ? n u
. °' >t ,1 £w<r fr sXsi matter and make it game-slaughter ? It would
any good come to a man who cared about jokes. No respectable AXP be rather hard to hang a poor labourer for
tradesman does. But I know what I'll do : I'll scare away your | f]J$^ j^ss?^^ shooting a hare, even though he committed the
Skylarks. The house serves liquor after twelve of a Saturday ; and
if I don't write to the magistrates, and have the license taken away,
I'm not lying in this bed this night. Yes, you may call me a foolish
woman ; but no, Mr. Caudle, no ; it's you who are the foolish man :
or worse than a foolish man ; you're—a wicked one. If you were to
die to-morrow—and people who go to public-houses do all they can
to shorten their lives—I should like to know who would write upon
your tombstone, ' A tender husband and an affectionate father.'
/—I'd have no such falsehoods told of you, I can assure you.
" Going and spending your money, and—nonsense ! don't tell me
—no, if you yvere to ten times swear it, I wouldn't believe that you
only spent eighteen-pence on a Saturday. You can't be all those
hours, and only spend eighteen-pence. I know better. I'm not
quite a fool, Mr. Caudle. A great deal you could have for eighteen-
pence ! And all the Club married men and fathers of families. The
more shame for 'em ! Skylarks, indeed ! They should call them-
selves Vultures; for they can only do as they do by robbing their
innocent wives and children. Eighteen-pence a week ! And if it
was only that,—do you know what fifty-two eighteen-pences come
to in a year ? Do you ever think of that, and see the gowns I wear ?
I'm sure I can't, cut of the house-money, buy myself a pincushion ;
though I've yvauted one these six months. No—not so much as a mortality at Paris.
ball of cotton. But yvhat do you care so you can get your brandy- Died, last month, at her residence in the Jardin des Plantes, the
and-water ? There's the girls, too—the things they yvant! They 're Giraffe. A too plentiful repast of gingerbread nuts is supposed to hare
never dressed like other people's children. But it's all the same to hastened her death. She has left a large number of cakewomen, whom
their father. Oh yes ! So he can go with his Skylarks they may she maintained by her appetite, to deplore her loss. The Giraffe is to
was.? sackcloth for pinafores, and packthread for garters. have the honour of stuffing paid to her remains, and will shortly be laib
* You'd better not let that Mr. Pretty-hian come here, that's j out in straw in the Musee d'Histoire NaLur.elle.
act with hunger prepense. Mr. Grantlet
Berkeley, we presume, will maintain that
shooting at game with iutent to kill, whether
you hit it or not, is the next thing to murder.
If so, and could his views become law. what a
number of cockney sportsmen would be trans-
ported merely for wasting powder and shot!
We should like to know whether Mr. Berks-
ley considers a clerk, or a medical student, who dines off' jugged hare at
an eating-house, an accessory after the fact : and also, whether he looks
in the same light at anybody who sups on a poached egg.
Mathematical Examination Paper.
Q. What is an eccentric angle ?
A. To fish for salt herrings in soda water.
Q. If 11-t D represent a member of a force, required how long will he
have a constant area !
A. As long as Betty smuggles joints from the kitchen.