Punch (9.1845)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 65

Courvoisier's case. If a naughty woman is to be screened, a
barrister will bring Heaven itself into Court, and call Providence to
witness that she is pure and spotless, as a certain great advocate and
schoolmaster abroad did for a certain lamented Qdeen Caroline.

There they are to be sold to the first bidder, these folks of the
long robe. Other bona robas are sent to the spinning-house for doing
no worse; and these—these mount to the peerage and the woolsack
—these talk about the dignity and independence of their profession
forsooth—these say that a man connected with their profession shan't
report for the newspapers.

It's dishonourable to do that. They'll turn a man from their
mess who reports in a paper ; they '11 expel a man from their spot-
less society for reporting in the Times or the Morning Chronicle.

They do not expel a man for disgusting hypocrisy ; for bear-
ing false witness; for the "artful dodge"; for keeping "fraud
and falsehood " out of view—they load him with honours for it.
Each of the instances above mentioned, has risen high to rank and
respect. This is a Law adviser to Ministers ; that was a Minister of
the Crown ; the other went to the grave with five hundred weeping
reputable gentlemen at his back—honest gentlemen who will have
no connection with the Press.

Very well. Let the Press be warned, and suffer, as best it may,
this separation from the Bar. Poor Peri turned out of Paradise,
peep in and see how the periwigged angels there innocently disport
themselves ! Peep in and see them at tlieir work : this one doing
the "artful dodge"; that one screening the frauds of his client;
another howling over the fate of a murderer who gives him so many
hundred guineas ; another insulting a timid witness, or accusing an
innocent woman.—See all these things, 0 Press! Send your com-
missioners in the train of these spotless men of law—and have your
say. There is no call for politeness, no truce or friendship hence-
forth between you. You are not worthy to sit at the Bar table;
dangerous society for dignified and independent gentlemen. Very
well; be you dignified and independent too. Bear this in mind,
gentlemen of the Press, that the Bar disowns you : and in the pro-
vinces, when the flock of barristers comes squeezing into your
Assize-Courts, hankering after your attorneys' fees; ready to perform
the " artful dodge " for the rogues in your gaols ; or to blubber over
murderers in the dock, welcome them as their dignity and indepen-
dence warrants. Don't fail to point out their eminent merits. Hold
up their respectability to public admiration.

So it is possible that from this war between the Bar and the Press
some good may arise : so it is possible that from this falling out some
honest men may come by their own ; which is the fervent wish of
the benevolent

SALE OF VAUXHALL GARDENS.

or a number or two back we alluded to
the possibility of this splendid property
being submitted to the hammer, and we
are sorry to say that a few days ago our
worst fears were realised. The Gardens
were put up to public competition, but
the public having refused to compete, the
lots were all bought iu one after the
other. As, however, some parties might
be disposed to blame the auctioneer for
a lack of eloquence, we had a reporter
in attendance, who took down his speech
verbatim in short hand, and we give it as
a fine specimen of Ciceronian oratory.

" Now, then, where's the catalogue ? Ahem ! Ladies and Gentlemen,
—I've got no ink.—My Friends, that is, Ladies and Gentlemen,—I have
had the honour of being solicited to offer these Gardens—Where's Jim ?
I shall want him presently—for sale. They are very ancient. As you
all know—Get me a jug of water aud a glass—the Prince of Wales and
the Royal Dukes were constant visitors.

" The first lot to which I shall call your attention is the supper pavilion.
What shall I say for the supper pavilion ? Did any one say a thousand
pounds ? Why, gentlemen, the tarpaulin at the top is worth half the
money.—Is Jim coming with that water!—The splendid, substantial,
richly-decorated supper pavilion. Why, ladies and gentlemen, look at
the arabesque scroll-work over the door. They tell me it's painted by
Maclise, but I can't be sure of that. Such are my instructions, but you
must judge for yourselves. What shall I say for the supper pavilion ?
Why, take it down to Brighton, and buy the Chinese Collection to put

no reserve. What shall I say for the supper pavilion t Once, twice,
thrice—No bidding ? Pass it.

" The next lot to which I have to call your attention is the ballet
theatre, with stage lamps various, two pair of wings and an odd one,
sundry flats, and green curtains, en suite. This is a very valuable lot to
any one who is looking out for anything of the kind. They tell me that
as many as seven hundred people have stood outside this ballet theatre
on the same night."

A voice. Where's the audience part 1 "

" The audience part—Jim, is there any audience part to the Ballet
Theatre? (Whispers to the Clerk). I find the theatre is complete,
except the accommodation for the audience. There '11 be time enough
for that when the audience comes. Recollect, gentlemen, we don't
warrant any of the lots to be perfect. The conditions of sale state
expressly, all errors of description at the risk of the purchaser. What
shall I say for the ballet theatre 1 Does nobody bid for the ballet
theatre ? Pass the ballet theatre.

" Lot. 3, ladies and gentlemen, is a gigantic wire-framework of the late
Mr. Simpson; two punch-bowls, and six dozen ginger-beer bottles. What
shall I say for this very useful lot 1"

A voice. " What's the use of the wire-framework of Mr. Simpson V

" We don't find uses for all the lots we sell. If you buy the lot, you can
do what you like with it. Now, ladies and gentlemen, what shall I say
for the figure, the bowls, and the bottles 1 A gigantic portrait, in frame, of
the late Mr. Simpson. Why, look at the bowls ; you would not match
them at the potteries under a crown a piece 1 Here, Jim, hand round
the ginger-beer bottles, they'll bear inspection. I call this the most
useful lot in the catalogue. Worth anything to a young couple just going
into housekeeping. Will nobody make a beginning ? Say anything.
Will anybody offer me a ten-pound note for them, just to set the sale
a-going. Shall I say five pounds to begin with. Four—three—two—one
—half'-a-sovereign—a crown—half-a-crown. Pray, ladies and gentlemen,
give me a bidding of some kind. I shall be obliged to pass this service-
able lot. Did you say a shilling, sir ? No ! Well then, pass the lot.

" Now we come to the really attractive part of the sale. Now, ladies and
gentlemen, 1 shall get your biddings.

"The next lot is five million illumination lamps, being the extras on the
occasion of the Waterloo Fete. Now then, what do you say for the five
million extras ? Shall I put 'em in at per lamp ? Yes, that will be the
shortest way. What will you give me per lamp ? The five million

Waterloo extras at-per lamp. Does nobody bid for the extras I

You'll recollect, ladies and gentlemen, when they are once lighted they

require no snuffing. What shall I say-per lamp ? Will any lady or

gentleman give me a penny \ The five million Waterloo Extras at-

per lamp. The five million—once—the Waterloo Extras—twice—at per
lamp—thrice. Pass the lot.

" The next lot is a ditto. What will you say for the ditto ! How much
is bid for the ditto 1"

A voice. " Is the number correct t"

" You can count them, sir, if you please. We can't answer for the
number. Our porters are as careful as they can be in counting, but that
is at the iisk of the purchaser. How much for the ditto? I ask you
once—I ask you twice—I ask you—You're just in time, sir. What was
your bidding ?"

A voice. " I didn't bid."

" Didn't you » I beg your pardon, sir. I thought you did. I ask you
thrice. Pass the ditto."

At this point of the sale a severe shower of rain having come on, our
reporter left, hearing, as he got outside the gardens, the voice of the
auctioneer exclaiming with vehemence —" Does nobody bid for the
hermit ? Pass the hermit."

Statues of Crreat Men.

We find from a report in a French paper that during the removal of a
statue of the Duke of Orleans, old women whom he had befriended
rushed upon it and covered it with stars, decorations, immortelles, and
other complimentary ornaments. It is not perhaps generally known
that when Punch's splendid full-length of himself was removed from his
late to his present office, the porter who carried it was literally smothered
in the bouquets that were thrown over it ; and a poor old parishioner of
St. Stephen's Walbrook, a venerable female rate-payer, could not be per-
suaded to tear herself away from it.

" GIVE ME A SHILLING."

Mr. O'Connell said, at the late Galway demonstration, " I want every
man's shilling, and I will tell you why,—because there's a hand and a
heart behind every shilling." But why stop at a shilling ? At that rate,
it is only sixpence for the hand, and sixpence for the heart; and there 8
nothing left for the head. But Mr. O'Connell knows too well it is only by
.m^i^huu^ lo unguwn, ana ouy me cninese collection 10 pui keeping an Irishman's head in ignorance of what his hand and heart are
into it, and it's a safe fortune to anybody ? Now, gentlemen, there's to be [ led to do, that, when he sends round the hat,he can make sure oi ma snuung.

Vol. 9.

3