DOI Heft:
July to December, 1848
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16547#0049
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 41
THE MODEL TAILOR.
ot costume. He estimates men, not by their measures but his own,
and in his tailors' eyes lie is the best man who turns out the best after
he lias been well-dressed by him once or twice. He despairs of Lord
Brougham ever being a great man, but has great hopes of Prince
Albert.
The Model Tailor rarely makes a fortune, unless he has been very
unfortunate through life. An insolvency just puts him straight; a first
bankruptcy leaves him a handsome surplus, and a second one enables
him to retire. The sad truth is, that the simple child of Eve knows he
owes all his business to the fact of her biting the apple, and he has not
the heart to distress any son of Adam for the clothes he wears. Per-
haps he feels that it would be like pocketing the wages of sin. His
assignees, therefore, are obliged to collect his debts for him, and ac-
cordingly, the oftener he fails, the richer he becomes. He buys, in
his old age, a large estate with a small title upon it, somewhere in
Germany, and leaves his "goose" to be cooked by somebody else,
universally regretted by all those customers who have known him since
the date of his last fiat. He lives a happy Victim, and dies a contented
Baron. Of all tradesmen, there is not one so estimable, so incredulous, so
generous, so beloved, when you meet with one, as the Model Tailor.
3 ou allow him to send you home
one ? He is miserable if you refuse,
so take the waislcoat by all means, and make the poor fellow happy.
He has, also, some beautiful stuff for trowsers—just arrived from
Paris—it would become you admirably—will you let him make you
a pair? Don't say No, or else his generous heart will sink, and with
it his high opinion of you. His philanthropy, in fact:, is unbounded ;
he does good merely for the sake of doing good. All men are his
brothers, with this exception, that he gives them all they ask, even
lends them money if they want, it, and never expects the smallest
return. He is the Gentleman's Best Priend.
The Model Tailor, sometimes, it must be confessed, sends in his
bill, though payment, generally speaking, never enters into his
thoughts. But then he is ashamed of the liberty, and apologises most
profusely for it. He is fully sensible that he is doing wrong, and
blushes in his soul for the shabbiness he is guilty of. ft is only that
he is terribly distressed for money, or else he would not think of
" troubling" you. He is greatly subject to that heaviest of all social
calamities—a "little bill." He asks you, as the greatest favour, to let
him have a " trifle upon account," and leaves you happier than poets
can express, if you promise to let him have something in a day or two.
Should it be inconvenient, however, he never presses the point, and
will look in some other time. Should you express astonishment at his
demand—you cannot have had his bill more than two years—he excuses
himself in the most penitential manner, and begs your pardon for
having mentioned the subject. The next day he calls to inquire if you
want anything in his way; the generous creature forgives as quickly as
he forgets. His anger is only roused when you leave him to go to
another tailor. He is very jealous of any one else doing a kind action,
and would like to enjoy the monopoly of all the Schneider virtues.
In his anger he has been known to send a lawyer's letter ; but if you
go to him, and tell him what you think of his conduct, and order a new
wrap-rascal, he will settle the matter himself, and assure you that the
thing is purely a mistake, and that no one can possibly be more sorry for
it than he is.
The Model Tailor takes a pride in seeing his clothes on the back
of a perfect gentleman. He knows no higher gratification than when he
is "cutting out" a nobleman. His greatest enjoyment is going to the
Opera, and recognizing, from a distance, the Earls, and Marquises, and
the dashing young Barts. and Knts., all walking about in the " charm-
ing " coats he has made for them. He throws his entire soul into his busi-
ness, and places it high amongst the Fine Arts, Sculpture excepted,
which he excludes altogether, as he cannot imagine how persons
can see any beauty in Apollo and Venus, dressed as they are, or
how a toga can be considered a suit of clothes any more than a table-
cloth.
The Model Tailor has exquisite taste, and unlimited faith. He
praises the figure of every one of his customers, and never doubts any
one till after four years' credit. He strives his utmost to conceal the
eccentricities of a pair of parenthetical legs, and spares no cloth for
fattening every miserable lean calf that comes under his paternal shears.
He disowns fox's heads and four-in-hands, and such vagaries upon
saucer buttons, and does not encourage the style of dress invented by
the "stable mind." He warrants to fit anything, and boasts, though
not much given to joking, of haying made a dress-coat for a corkscrew.
He does not recommend things to wash, that are sure to leave their
complexion behind them in the first wash-tub, nor make a practice of
registering his straps, his belts, button-holes, and every little article
E is the most confiding of human
beings. He is generous—chari-
table to a fault—for the desti-
tute have only to go to him and
ask for clothes, and they get
exactly what they want. He gives
them the best of everything—
velvets, silks, the finest kersey-
meres,—nothing is too good for
them. He even feels a virtuous
pleasure in the act—and is quite
angry if the person whom he has
clothed does not return to him
afterwards, and be measured for
a new suit. Par from repuls-
ing you, he makes you welcome,
and really ietU grateful that
you have not forgotten him!
He presses you in the most tempt-
ing manner to have something j A SCENE FR0M OTHELLO,
new. He has a lovely pattern j
for a waistcoat—a real Cashmere—j principal characters.
ifcisjjutjhettiing Jot you. ^Will | Othd/o (on this occasion) .... by Mr. Pdnch.
The Lamp (one of the lights of the age) . by Lord John Russell.
Enter Othello (Punch) taking the Lamp (Lord John Russell) in
his hand.
It is the cause, by Jove, it is the cause ;
Let me not name it to you, ye wild Bads.
It is the cause.
Put out Lord John, and then put in Bob Peel.
Yet I'll not oust the Whigs,
Nor force the really able ones to go :
I'd rather aid them with some sticking plaister.
Yet he must out—or he'll betray more men.
Put out Lord John and then—put out the Whigs !
If I extinguish thee, thou llaming Minister,
1 can thy former place restore, should it repent me;
But once put out the Whigs, I know not where
That party is their places can supply.
^Othello (Punch) sits down in a desponding attitude, and
looking at the Lamp (Lord John Russell), he naturally
falls asleep.
DISSOLVING VIEWS.-PRIZE CATTLE SHOWS.
The sympathy of the Duke of Cambridge was greatly
moved by the evident distress of a prize bull at the
York Agricultural Show. The poor beast could
scarcely breathe under its accumulation of suet. The
tallow, like Parliament, was just on the eve of disso-
lution ; the heat was so intense that the suffering
animal seemed to be basting itself to death with its
own fat. It was a piteous sight, and His Royal
Highness could not. help remarking to his chief
equerry and cook, Baron Von Speisekart, that
the bull was literally "dripping wet." The joke,
such as it is, fled with all the wonderful rapidity of a
royal joke, and formed the exclusive subject of con-
versation for hours afterwards at the Mayoralty, and
the principal black-doll shops of the ancient City of
York. If the Duke can only make another joke like
it, or one only half as good, his reputation is achieved
as a great wit. When he speaks, persons will dig their
forefingers into his royal ribs, and exclaim reproach-
fully, " You 're a wag !" or else he will pass through
life as a " sad dog," and have his hon-mots collected
after his death, and sold at all the railway stations.
Mortality for the Million.
Last week, at a meeting of the Society for the Promotion of Colo
nisation, the Earl of Harrowby is reported to have stated that the
population is increasing at the rate of 1000 souls a-day. It cannot be
said that Government is doing nothing to supply a remedy for this
monster-evil; for Govern*ient sanctions the sale of quack-medicines,
than which nothing can operate more effectually as a check to over-
population.
Vol. 15.
& 2
THE MODEL TAILOR.
ot costume. He estimates men, not by their measures but his own,
and in his tailors' eyes lie is the best man who turns out the best after
he lias been well-dressed by him once or twice. He despairs of Lord
Brougham ever being a great man, but has great hopes of Prince
Albert.
The Model Tailor rarely makes a fortune, unless he has been very
unfortunate through life. An insolvency just puts him straight; a first
bankruptcy leaves him a handsome surplus, and a second one enables
him to retire. The sad truth is, that the simple child of Eve knows he
owes all his business to the fact of her biting the apple, and he has not
the heart to distress any son of Adam for the clothes he wears. Per-
haps he feels that it would be like pocketing the wages of sin. His
assignees, therefore, are obliged to collect his debts for him, and ac-
cordingly, the oftener he fails, the richer he becomes. He buys, in
his old age, a large estate with a small title upon it, somewhere in
Germany, and leaves his "goose" to be cooked by somebody else,
universally regretted by all those customers who have known him since
the date of his last fiat. He lives a happy Victim, and dies a contented
Baron. Of all tradesmen, there is not one so estimable, so incredulous, so
generous, so beloved, when you meet with one, as the Model Tailor.
3 ou allow him to send you home
one ? He is miserable if you refuse,
so take the waislcoat by all means, and make the poor fellow happy.
He has, also, some beautiful stuff for trowsers—just arrived from
Paris—it would become you admirably—will you let him make you
a pair? Don't say No, or else his generous heart will sink, and with
it his high opinion of you. His philanthropy, in fact:, is unbounded ;
he does good merely for the sake of doing good. All men are his
brothers, with this exception, that he gives them all they ask, even
lends them money if they want, it, and never expects the smallest
return. He is the Gentleman's Best Priend.
The Model Tailor, sometimes, it must be confessed, sends in his
bill, though payment, generally speaking, never enters into his
thoughts. But then he is ashamed of the liberty, and apologises most
profusely for it. He is fully sensible that he is doing wrong, and
blushes in his soul for the shabbiness he is guilty of. ft is only that
he is terribly distressed for money, or else he would not think of
" troubling" you. He is greatly subject to that heaviest of all social
calamities—a "little bill." He asks you, as the greatest favour, to let
him have a " trifle upon account," and leaves you happier than poets
can express, if you promise to let him have something in a day or two.
Should it be inconvenient, however, he never presses the point, and
will look in some other time. Should you express astonishment at his
demand—you cannot have had his bill more than two years—he excuses
himself in the most penitential manner, and begs your pardon for
having mentioned the subject. The next day he calls to inquire if you
want anything in his way; the generous creature forgives as quickly as
he forgets. His anger is only roused when you leave him to go to
another tailor. He is very jealous of any one else doing a kind action,
and would like to enjoy the monopoly of all the Schneider virtues.
In his anger he has been known to send a lawyer's letter ; but if you
go to him, and tell him what you think of his conduct, and order a new
wrap-rascal, he will settle the matter himself, and assure you that the
thing is purely a mistake, and that no one can possibly be more sorry for
it than he is.
The Model Tailor takes a pride in seeing his clothes on the back
of a perfect gentleman. He knows no higher gratification than when he
is "cutting out" a nobleman. His greatest enjoyment is going to the
Opera, and recognizing, from a distance, the Earls, and Marquises, and
the dashing young Barts. and Knts., all walking about in the " charm-
ing " coats he has made for them. He throws his entire soul into his busi-
ness, and places it high amongst the Fine Arts, Sculpture excepted,
which he excludes altogether, as he cannot imagine how persons
can see any beauty in Apollo and Venus, dressed as they are, or
how a toga can be considered a suit of clothes any more than a table-
cloth.
The Model Tailor has exquisite taste, and unlimited faith. He
praises the figure of every one of his customers, and never doubts any
one till after four years' credit. He strives his utmost to conceal the
eccentricities of a pair of parenthetical legs, and spares no cloth for
fattening every miserable lean calf that comes under his paternal shears.
He disowns fox's heads and four-in-hands, and such vagaries upon
saucer buttons, and does not encourage the style of dress invented by
the "stable mind." He warrants to fit anything, and boasts, though
not much given to joking, of haying made a dress-coat for a corkscrew.
He does not recommend things to wash, that are sure to leave their
complexion behind them in the first wash-tub, nor make a practice of
registering his straps, his belts, button-holes, and every little article
E is the most confiding of human
beings. He is generous—chari-
table to a fault—for the desti-
tute have only to go to him and
ask for clothes, and they get
exactly what they want. He gives
them the best of everything—
velvets, silks, the finest kersey-
meres,—nothing is too good for
them. He even feels a virtuous
pleasure in the act—and is quite
angry if the person whom he has
clothed does not return to him
afterwards, and be measured for
a new suit. Par from repuls-
ing you, he makes you welcome,
and really ietU grateful that
you have not forgotten him!
He presses you in the most tempt-
ing manner to have something j A SCENE FR0M OTHELLO,
new. He has a lovely pattern j
for a waistcoat—a real Cashmere—j principal characters.
ifcisjjutjhettiing Jot you. ^Will | Othd/o (on this occasion) .... by Mr. Pdnch.
The Lamp (one of the lights of the age) . by Lord John Russell.
Enter Othello (Punch) taking the Lamp (Lord John Russell) in
his hand.
It is the cause, by Jove, it is the cause ;
Let me not name it to you, ye wild Bads.
It is the cause.
Put out Lord John, and then put in Bob Peel.
Yet I'll not oust the Whigs,
Nor force the really able ones to go :
I'd rather aid them with some sticking plaister.
Yet he must out—or he'll betray more men.
Put out Lord John and then—put out the Whigs !
If I extinguish thee, thou llaming Minister,
1 can thy former place restore, should it repent me;
But once put out the Whigs, I know not where
That party is their places can supply.
^Othello (Punch) sits down in a desponding attitude, and
looking at the Lamp (Lord John Russell), he naturally
falls asleep.
DISSOLVING VIEWS.-PRIZE CATTLE SHOWS.
The sympathy of the Duke of Cambridge was greatly
moved by the evident distress of a prize bull at the
York Agricultural Show. The poor beast could
scarcely breathe under its accumulation of suet. The
tallow, like Parliament, was just on the eve of disso-
lution ; the heat was so intense that the suffering
animal seemed to be basting itself to death with its
own fat. It was a piteous sight, and His Royal
Highness could not. help remarking to his chief
equerry and cook, Baron Von Speisekart, that
the bull was literally "dripping wet." The joke,
such as it is, fled with all the wonderful rapidity of a
royal joke, and formed the exclusive subject of con-
versation for hours afterwards at the Mayoralty, and
the principal black-doll shops of the ancient City of
York. If the Duke can only make another joke like
it, or one only half as good, his reputation is achieved
as a great wit. When he speaks, persons will dig their
forefingers into his royal ribs, and exclaim reproach-
fully, " You 're a wag !" or else he will pass through
life as a " sad dog," and have his hon-mots collected
after his death, and sold at all the railway stations.
Mortality for the Million.
Last week, at a meeting of the Society for the Promotion of Colo
nisation, the Earl of Harrowby is reported to have stated that the
population is increasing at the rate of 1000 souls a-day. It cannot be
said that Government is doing nothing to supply a remedy for this
monster-evil; for Govern*ient sanctions the sale of quack-medicines,
than which nothing can operate more effectually as a check to over-
population.
Vol. 15.
& 2