Punch (10.1846)

quill of an Eagle, which, sympathising with its living parent, continually renews its youth; for it
it » "great fact" that Punch's quill, cut to the very stump at night, is whole again by the morning; it
Js not for him to guess, even within a few hundreds, the number of Volumes that Time, his shopman and
publisher, will yet distribute to the Universe. All, prophet-like, he knows is—this : so long as English
Midsummer and English Christmas endure, so long will a new Tome of Punch impart a sweetness and a
beauty to the rose of June ; endow with brighter greenness the holly of December. Great news this, for
the present generation. Happy tidings for a yet unborn world ! And while our heart expands wiMi this
conviction of typographic Immortality; whilst Punch, pitying: the ousted mummies of Egyptian Kings,
Bees himself embalmed in decency for ever in printers' ink; he can afford to be compassionate of the few
(the silly few ! ) who now and then are pleased to croak, at him. Small frogs are they ; noisiest, too, in
dirtiest pools. But as no croaking, be it ever so vehement, can turn the silver moon into a copper
pocket-piece, so cannot little frogs in the dregs of ink-bottles bring a shadow on the shining countenance
of Punch. No: croak as they will, his only revenge shall be to wish them nightingales.