DOI issue:
July to December, 1846
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16543#0131
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
123
the door barricaded, two rude fellows with two malice. She has given us a specimen of her
WHAT'S COME TO THE CLUBS? pails, and a quantity of painting-brushes and quality in that melancholy effusion which she
d gIR plaster—and Snooks's shut up, as the Polyan- j put forward as a leading article on Monday
"You have been making some observa-j t^1^- _ ,_ . , ,
tions about the stoppage of Fleet Street, which, I The Horse Marine Club is also closed. Drive
me to the megatherium, I say, in desperation
I dare say, are remarkably interesting to per
sons engaged in that part of the town. It seems
to me you might just as well object because
the road up Mont Blanc was difficult, or there
was a stoppage in the streets of Timbuctoo.
Dem Fleet Street, Sir ; in a word, who the deuce
cares about Fleet Street ? What I complain of
the 9 th of September.
Poor grandmamma becomes ill-natured and
blasphemous w hen she suggests that " the exi-
and that, at last, is open. I enter and fiDd— ' gency of the times may demand and get a
what do I find ?— | Comic prayer-book." This lamentable attempt
to be jocose proves the fearful want of dis-
crimination Mrs. Gamp labours under when
seeking a subject for her lugubrious merriment.
It would,gratify Mrs. 0. to point to anything in
the shameful state of dilapidation in the___}, £k 0 which the comic writers, against whom she
is so angry, are concerned, where there has-
been any tendency to the blasphemous style
of literature she has so clumsily suggested.
Mrs. Gamp has long been engaged in a
Quixotic crusade against wit and good-hu-
mour. She began the assault, and must by
this time have found that she has got the
worst of it. Our only surprise is that she
is
Christian end of the town
" The stoppage in Piccadilly renders one of
my clubs impossible to me, and crams Mayfaii
with thousands of the most unwholesome
vehicles, which, I think, will positively empester
the neighbourhood. A horrible omnibus nearly
ecrasedmy Brougham, in Chapel Street, yester-
day ; and when I remonstrated from the inte-
rior, the -wretched driver and conducteur of the [iP | ftf0 | should feel hostility towards comic writing,
public vehicle riposted with a vulgarity of 4^ for the poet has told us that
insolence which shook my nerves dangerously. "v=* 1 f____HI™ " Gentle dullness ever loves a joke.
And the state of the clubs : what is that ?
What resource has a man-about-town but his
clubs,and what, I ask, are the clubs at present ?
" Yesterday I drove to the Polyanthus, to see
if I could get a rubber before dinner ; instead
of getting in I find —
DIRGE ON THE QUEEN'S HIGHWAY.
Well-a-day ! ah, well-a-day !
Whither hath gone the Queen's Highway 1
The ancient 'Pikes—oh, where are they ?
Chorus—Well-a-day ! &c.
The Queen's Highway exists no more,
Its track the greensward mantles o'er ;
Thereon the donkeys graze, and cows,
And fleecy flocks the verdure browse,
The houses, too, along its course,
That entertain'd both man and horse,
Are quite done up ; the coach no more
Pulls up before the tavern-door.
What though no highwaymen assail
The travller now, nor stop the Mail ?
" Stand and deliver !"'s still the cry,
Fares are so villainously high.
One Royal road we scarce can boast ;
Railways are everything—almost :
And o'er the Highways' broad domain,
Hudson usurps Victoria's reign.
k rude fellow on a ladder, with a pail barri-
cading the door, and the club shut for Septem-
ber. ' Drive me to Snooks's, in St. James's
Street,' I say to my gens. I arrive and find—
that infernal bore, old Sir John Roarer, who
coughs, who snores, who expectorates, who has
the asthma, and reads the papers out loud—
the most insufferable nuisance in London, and
the only man left here.
"Have the goodness, Sir, on receipt of this,
to use what influence you have (1) to get the
Clubs open, (2) the barricades of Piccadilly
removed, and (3) to order Sm John Roarer to
leave town, with something in your clever way
—and if you call any day at the hotel for
Captain de Mogyns's servant, my man will give
you something handsome for your trouble.
" Your obedient servant,
"Alured Mogyns de Mogyns."
"I need not say that business of importance
obliges me to be in London : but a de Mo-
gyns need not excuse himself for being in any
place at any time."
iftftrs. ©amp in tfje Btsmalss.
This dim old lady sent forth on Monday a
series of groans against the tendency of the
present age to cheerfulness. She is afraid that
the world is getting too good-humoured and
lively in spite of all her efforts —which we
must confess have been tremendous—to keep
Important to Duns and Debtors.
We understand that Lord William Paget
is preparing a sort of Conversation Lexicon
for the use of Debtors and Creditors, showing
how the former ought to be addressed by the
latter. For the benefit of noblemen and gentle-
men who are in the habit of being pestered
with importunities from foreign tradesmen, a
quantity of oaths, translated into all the mo-
dern languages, will appear in an appendix to
the work.
naval intelligence
His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales
it otherwise. Mrs. Gamp certainly knows her ' has been rated as midshipman on the ship's
fin
own peculiar forte when she tries to rally round
her a dull party and make herself the organ
of the low-spirited portion of the population,
of those indeed who cannot see a joke, and
who may feel assured that they never will
stand a chance of seeing one as long as they
confine their reading to the Morning Herald.
The old lady complains bitterly of a ten-
dency to turn everything into fun. She has
been made fun of herself, poor soul, and this
is indeed the very extreme of comic alchemy,
for it is positively extracting mirth from the
dullest possible subject.
We can pity the misfortune of a morbid im-
agination which takes a dismal view of every-
thing ; we can feel commiseration for our
grandmother who has perpetually " got the
vapours ;" but we cannot pardon her for her
books of the Victoria and Albert. Should the
naval precocity of His Royal Highness con-
tinue, it may be confidently expected, that, in>
the year 1850, he will have attained the
rank of Admiral of the Very Blue ; when, in
the event of a war with France, he will take
the command of the English fleet against the
French admiral, Prince Joihville.
A " friendly hint."
The first step on the road to eminence is-
usually the publication of a book. As Lord
George Bentinck aspires to political distinc-
tion, we recommend this plan to his Lordship..
Under the above title we would advise him to
publish " the best book he ever made for the
Derby."
123
the door barricaded, two rude fellows with two malice. She has given us a specimen of her
WHAT'S COME TO THE CLUBS? pails, and a quantity of painting-brushes and quality in that melancholy effusion which she
d gIR plaster—and Snooks's shut up, as the Polyan- j put forward as a leading article on Monday
"You have been making some observa-j t^1^- _ ,_ . , ,
tions about the stoppage of Fleet Street, which, I The Horse Marine Club is also closed. Drive
me to the megatherium, I say, in desperation
I dare say, are remarkably interesting to per
sons engaged in that part of the town. It seems
to me you might just as well object because
the road up Mont Blanc was difficult, or there
was a stoppage in the streets of Timbuctoo.
Dem Fleet Street, Sir ; in a word, who the deuce
cares about Fleet Street ? What I complain of
the 9 th of September.
Poor grandmamma becomes ill-natured and
blasphemous w hen she suggests that " the exi-
and that, at last, is open. I enter and fiDd— ' gency of the times may demand and get a
what do I find ?— | Comic prayer-book." This lamentable attempt
to be jocose proves the fearful want of dis-
crimination Mrs. Gamp labours under when
seeking a subject for her lugubrious merriment.
It would,gratify Mrs. 0. to point to anything in
the shameful state of dilapidation in the___}, £k 0 which the comic writers, against whom she
is so angry, are concerned, where there has-
been any tendency to the blasphemous style
of literature she has so clumsily suggested.
Mrs. Gamp has long been engaged in a
Quixotic crusade against wit and good-hu-
mour. She began the assault, and must by
this time have found that she has got the
worst of it. Our only surprise is that she
is
Christian end of the town
" The stoppage in Piccadilly renders one of
my clubs impossible to me, and crams Mayfaii
with thousands of the most unwholesome
vehicles, which, I think, will positively empester
the neighbourhood. A horrible omnibus nearly
ecrasedmy Brougham, in Chapel Street, yester-
day ; and when I remonstrated from the inte-
rior, the -wretched driver and conducteur of the [iP | ftf0 | should feel hostility towards comic writing,
public vehicle riposted with a vulgarity of 4^ for the poet has told us that
insolence which shook my nerves dangerously. "v=* 1 f____HI™ " Gentle dullness ever loves a joke.
And the state of the clubs : what is that ?
What resource has a man-about-town but his
clubs,and what, I ask, are the clubs at present ?
" Yesterday I drove to the Polyanthus, to see
if I could get a rubber before dinner ; instead
of getting in I find —
DIRGE ON THE QUEEN'S HIGHWAY.
Well-a-day ! ah, well-a-day !
Whither hath gone the Queen's Highway 1
The ancient 'Pikes—oh, where are they ?
Chorus—Well-a-day ! &c.
The Queen's Highway exists no more,
Its track the greensward mantles o'er ;
Thereon the donkeys graze, and cows,
And fleecy flocks the verdure browse,
The houses, too, along its course,
That entertain'd both man and horse,
Are quite done up ; the coach no more
Pulls up before the tavern-door.
What though no highwaymen assail
The travller now, nor stop the Mail ?
" Stand and deliver !"'s still the cry,
Fares are so villainously high.
One Royal road we scarce can boast ;
Railways are everything—almost :
And o'er the Highways' broad domain,
Hudson usurps Victoria's reign.
k rude fellow on a ladder, with a pail barri-
cading the door, and the club shut for Septem-
ber. ' Drive me to Snooks's, in St. James's
Street,' I say to my gens. I arrive and find—
that infernal bore, old Sir John Roarer, who
coughs, who snores, who expectorates, who has
the asthma, and reads the papers out loud—
the most insufferable nuisance in London, and
the only man left here.
"Have the goodness, Sir, on receipt of this,
to use what influence you have (1) to get the
Clubs open, (2) the barricades of Piccadilly
removed, and (3) to order Sm John Roarer to
leave town, with something in your clever way
—and if you call any day at the hotel for
Captain de Mogyns's servant, my man will give
you something handsome for your trouble.
" Your obedient servant,
"Alured Mogyns de Mogyns."
"I need not say that business of importance
obliges me to be in London : but a de Mo-
gyns need not excuse himself for being in any
place at any time."
iftftrs. ©amp in tfje Btsmalss.
This dim old lady sent forth on Monday a
series of groans against the tendency of the
present age to cheerfulness. She is afraid that
the world is getting too good-humoured and
lively in spite of all her efforts —which we
must confess have been tremendous—to keep
Important to Duns and Debtors.
We understand that Lord William Paget
is preparing a sort of Conversation Lexicon
for the use of Debtors and Creditors, showing
how the former ought to be addressed by the
latter. For the benefit of noblemen and gentle-
men who are in the habit of being pestered
with importunities from foreign tradesmen, a
quantity of oaths, translated into all the mo-
dern languages, will appear in an appendix to
the work.
naval intelligence
His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales
it otherwise. Mrs. Gamp certainly knows her ' has been rated as midshipman on the ship's
fin
own peculiar forte when she tries to rally round
her a dull party and make herself the organ
of the low-spirited portion of the population,
of those indeed who cannot see a joke, and
who may feel assured that they never will
stand a chance of seeing one as long as they
confine their reading to the Morning Herald.
The old lady complains bitterly of a ten-
dency to turn everything into fun. She has
been made fun of herself, poor soul, and this
is indeed the very extreme of comic alchemy,
for it is positively extracting mirth from the
dullest possible subject.
We can pity the misfortune of a morbid im-
agination which takes a dismal view of every-
thing ; we can feel commiseration for our
grandmother who has perpetually " got the
vapours ;" but we cannot pardon her for her
books of the Victoria and Albert. Should the
naval precocity of His Royal Highness con-
tinue, it may be confidently expected, that, in>
the year 1850, he will have attained the
rank of Admiral of the Very Blue ; when, in
the event of a war with France, he will take
the command of the English fleet against the
French admiral, Prince Joihville.
A " friendly hint."
The first step on the road to eminence is-
usually the publication of a book. As Lord
George Bentinck aspires to political distinc-
tion, we recommend this plan to his Lordship..
Under the above title we would advise him to
publish " the best book he ever made for the
Derby."