Punch (9.1845)

82

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

HACK BROUGHAM FOR SALE,

she'd had a letter. I dare say she bad. And then, as she said, it

would be company for her to come with us. No doubt. She thought
I should be ill again, and down in the cabin : but with all her art,
she does not know the depth of me—quite. Not but what I was ill;
though, like a brute, you would n't see it.

" What do you say ? Good night, love ? Yes : you can be very tender,
I dare say—like all of your sex—to suit your own ends ; but I can't
go to sleep with my head full of the house. The fender in the par-
lour will never come to itself again. I haven't counted the knives
yet, but I've made up my mind that half of 'em are lost. No : I don't
always think the worst; no, and I don't make myself unhappy before
the time ; but of course, that's my thanks for caring about your
property. If there ain't spiders in the curtains as big as nutmegs,
I'm a wicked creature. Not a broom has the whole place seen since
I've been away. But as soon as I get up, won't I rummage the
house out, that's all. I hadn't the heart to look at my pickles ; but
for all I lefc the door locked, I'm sure the jars have been moved.
Yes ; you can swear at pickles when you 're in bed ; but nobody
makes more noise about 'em when you want 'em.

" I only hope they've been to the wine-cellar : then you may know
what my feelings are. That poor cat, too—What ? You hate cats ?
Yes, poor thing ! because she's my favourite—that's it. If that
In consequence of the termination of the London Season. It has had cat could only speak—What ? It isn't necessary ? I don't know what
several coats of various colour, and is very light in the head. To any ; v°u mean, Mr. Caudle : but if that cat could only speak, she'd tell
party wanting a thing of the sort, the Hack Brougham would be sold a I me how she's been cheated. Poor thing ! I know where the

bargain. It may be had by the job, or will be sold outright to any one
disposed to deal liberally.

MRS. CAUDLE'S CURTAIN LECTURES.

LECTURE XXVIII.

money's gone to that I left for her milk—I know. Why what have
you got there, Mr. Caudle ? A book? What! If you ain't allowed
to sleep, you'll read? Well, now it is come to something! If that
isn't insulting a wife to bring a book to bed, I don't know what wed-
lock is. But you shan't read, Caudle ; no, you shan't; not while
I've strength to get up and put out a candle.

"And that's like your feelings ! You can think a great deal of

trumpery books ; yes, you can't think too much of the stuff that's put

into print ; but for what's real and true about you, why you've the

heart of a stone. I should like to know what that book's about?

mrs. caudle has returned home.—the house (of course; What? MUton's Paradise Lost? I thought some rubbish of the sort

"not fit to be seen." mr. caudle, in self-defence, —something to insult me. A nice book, I think, to read in bed ; and

takes a book. a verv respectable person he was who wrote it. What do I know of

a » u n • ,1 • , . • . > , , him 2 Much more than you think. A very pretty fellow, indeed,

" After all, Caudle, it is something to get into one s own bed . ' ,. . . ,TM J , TT , , . J, K, i ^ .' „, ",'

x 7 77 i x • \ i titi iii? > 7 j * a mt. i j i-i with his six wives, what? Hehadntsix—he a only three? lhat s
again. I shall sleep to-night What! You re qlad of it ? That s like . . . , ^ . . n

° 'Tiit Af t nothing to do with it ; but ot course you 11 take his part. Poor

your sneering; I know what you mean. Or course; I never can 0 . . . ', t j , f j t j

iv,. i <• . i • if c J . n , ~ v women A nice time they had with him, 1 dare say ! And! ve no

think of making myself comfortable, but vou wound my feelings. , , ' „ >j m x * n ,f %r > i

tj. j x- l j vi ,i* >j x i. doubt. Mr. Caudle, you d like to follow Mr. Milton s example :

If you cared for your own bed like any other man, you d not have uuuuti U*UUL > jv f

+ • j x x-ii xi ■ i t» n xi x't j x c xi. i else you wouldn t read the stuff he wrote. But you don t use me as

staid out till this hour. Don t say that I drove you out ot the house , J , , , , . , v, x • j j . t > 7

as soon as we came in it. I only just spoke about the dirt and the he ,treatfd the Poor sou]s, ^ho married him. Poets, indeed ! I d

dust,—but the fact is, you'd be happy in a pigstye ! I thought I could mak,e a laf against any ot em having wives, except upon paper ; for

have trusted that Mrs. Closepeo with untold gold ; and did you g^ess helP the dear creatures tied to them ! Like innocent moths

„ , „__,i . .7 . -.,-r, i r. , .7° x- • lured by a candle! Talking of candles, vou don t know that the

only see the hearth-rug ? When we left home there was a tiger in , . J 7 . 6 , . . T ' • ■, , ,

•x t i u ri x l i u i xi . lamp m the Dassace is split to bits? I say you don t—do you hear

it : I should like to know who could make out the tuer, now ? Oh,1 ia/lup ^ ij«i»3i0c w wm j j j

•x i n r xi_ x- i • ,x me. Mr. Caudle \ Won t you answer ? Do you know where you

it s very well for you to swear at the tiger, but swearing won't revive '„ ,', , , , * t-w a a , t-u >

,i ■ r?\ • ix are ? What? In the Garden of Eden? Are you ? Then you've no

the rug again. Else you might swear. , . , x ,7,. c • , L »>

~ ,, 7 , r 7 , business there at this time of night.

" You could go out and make yourself comfortable at your club.

You little know how many windows are broken. How many do « And saying this," writes Caudle, " she scrambled from the bed,
you think? No : I shan't tell you to-morrow—you shall know now. an(j pu(. Qu£ tjie ]jffn'^ »>
I'm sure ! Talking about getting health at Margate ; all my health &
went away directly I went into the kitchen. There's dear mother's

china mug cracked in two places. I could have sit down and cried ---

when I saw it: a mug I can recollect when I was a child. Eh? /

should have locked it up, then? Yes: that's your feeling for anything WESTMINSTER BRIDGE,

•of mine. I only wish it had been your punch-bowl; but, thank good-
ness ! I think that's chipped. This unhappy old structure, which has long ago been condemned, On
«w„u ™, i, u j u x ,1, • j u being tried by its Piers, has been the subject of a conversation in th.-
Well, you haven t answered about the windows—you cant guess „ 5 Tf ,,' i „:„„™ o^ri t«;n m thw mmmk
i , j , n ,TT ,. .r , , , , ,7 , x Commons. It seems that several engineers ana two or tnree commis-
how many ? 1 ou don t care ? Well, if nobody caught cola but you, it si()ners have gat u ^ and „ the mercy is „ as the old women say, ths,t

-vpould be little matter. Six windows clean out, and three cracked ! the ricketty concern did not give way with them. We never see a loaded
You can't help it? I should like to know where the money's to come omI1ibus goin" over it without wondering whether it will get safe to the
from to mend 'em ! They shan't be mended, that's all. Then you '11 other side, and we are quite certain that a Life Insurance Office at the
see how respectable the house will look. But I know very well foot of the Bridge at either end, would be a very profitable speculation,
what you think. Yes : you're glad of it. You think that this will, Everything has been tried with this dreary pile, but nothing seems to
keep me at home—but I'll never stir out again. Then you can go ! answer. It has been made to lower its proud head to the extent of
iothe sea-side by yourself; then, perhaps, you can be happy with j several feet, but still it is almost as bad as climbing up a rock and
Miss Prettyman ?—Now, Caudle, if you knock the pillow with 'descending a precipice, to go on to the bridge at one end and off at
a mr fist in that way, I '11 get up. It's very odd that I can't mention | tn®?t^r"

mean

"She wasn't coining to town for a week ; and then, of a sudden;

and the only remedy is that proposed in the House of Commons the other
night, namely, to pull it all down and build a new one.