DOI Heft:
July to December, 1848
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16547#0188
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
181
A VISIT TO KEW GARDENS.
From " Our Own Old Lady."
" You can't think, Mr. Punch, how thankful I am to you for explaining
to me all about ihe great Oolite, and his testaceous disposition?, and the
mysteries of Zoology, which, indeed, it is a wonderful thing to think of
the earth having a crust, all as one as a beefsteak pie, and society, I
suppose, like the»steaks, some at the top and some at the bottom, and
I am quite ashamed of my suspicions of the Palm—something—gra-
phical Society, which 1 've no doubt, now, that they take their name from
ihe Hev. Mb,. Palet, a highly respectable archdeacon of ihe Established
Church, and wrote a Natural Theology, and Evidences, showing us the
wonders of nature, which my son has the work, and Lord Bbotjgham
wrote an edition of it, and he wouldn't countenance anything that wasn't
quite correct, as is well known.
"However, Mr. Punch, what with your explanations about those poor
dear Chelonians, that live like the poor neglected brick-makers among
the London clay (though how it isn't all made into bricks before this,
with the houses they're building in all directions, I'm sure /can't think),
and my son's talk out of Mr. Paley about the wonders of the vegetable
world, I said to myself, says I, to think of there being a vegetable
world, and I, fifty-five my last birth-day, and never saw it, and accus-
tomed to greengrocers all my life, for the late dear deceased he wasn'r,
happy without his two dishes of vegetables regular, so I determined 10
pay a visit to this vege'able world, and hearing it was to b3 seen in
Q. Gardens, I thought I would take an opportunity this fine weather,
and took the 'bus accordingly, at Sloane Street, and a very civil con-
ductor he was, with whiskers and a gold band round his hat. I t hought
we never should have got, there, and was very near getting out at the
egg-hatching machine, but, however, we reached the place sale at last,
myself and my niece, for I was determined she shouldn't grow up as I
had done, having placed her at an establishment near Turnham Green,
where I made the conductor stop and called for her, and why that old
gentleman next the door did swear so I'm sure I can't think, for we
weren't above ten minutes waiting for Jemima.
"Well, Sir, we got to the Gardens where the vegetable wot Id is; and
it's well I expected to see vegetables, for there isn't no flowers to
signify; but hot-houses upon hot-houses. How the coals are paid for
isn't my business. And such a Conservatory ; all made of glass, and
covering I don't know how much ground; all under the care of Sir
William Hookey. First, we went into the Conservatory, where
they've the poor plants transported from Botany Bay—what for I'm
sure I don't know, but no good, I'll be bound—and very ugly they looked,
set in bush-ranges, which you may have read of, and put in solitary
confinement in tubs, on short allowance of earth.
" But oh, Sir, that Palm-house ! The heat was awful, and the company
suffered a deal; and it's little watering them plants want, I'll be bound.
And all the fanning in the world isn't any use; for the more you fan,
the hotter you get, for it's heated up to the topical regions—that is,
the parts about the line, which must be the no-clothes line, where the
benighted blacks go stark naked. This was the vegetable world I
wanted to see, where you've trees that grow umbrellas and chair-
bottoms, and trees that grow bread equal to hot-rolls, and custards, and
cocoa-nuts, and chocolate, and tea, and coffee, and other groceries, and one
that makes lace, and another that grows sugar and nutmeg and all sorts
of spices, and one that you milk for all the world like a cow, and another
that makes butter, and another that makes pots to put it in: and the
Cabbage Palm, equal to the best savoys, and the Guinea Palm, which
grows the Oil of Palm, which guineas is well known to be; and
there's some, no doubt the Aristocracy, that sp°nd their time
catching flies; and some that carry water; and there's dwarfs among
'em, and'an Oldest Inhabitant,' into the bargain, Sir W. Hookey
says in his book, which his name is Baobab, and my niece, who draws
sweetly, took the portraits of some of them, ain't they pretty ? Theie
■was one little plant I was tempted to put into my reticule—the Paw-
paw—that makes tough meat tender, a great comfort it would be to
one, as none but a housekeeper can know.
"But of all the vegetable world I saw that, day, and dear knows I saw
plenty, and almost fainted among the Palms, there was one dreadful
house in particular, where the Hugh_ Forbeses live, and awful plants
they are, like melons, with spikes a sticking out in every direction, and
tickets written up—'Visitors are requested not to touch the plants,'
and they'd better not, for I came on one of the Hugh Forbeses promis-
cuously, and my shrieks brought in three gardeners, very civil young
men, and how they got me off I hardly know, but grateful I was I'd put
on my stout bombazine that morning. And in the same house there's
a4ieap of little old plants, called the Cereus Senilis in Sir W. Hookey's
catalogue; and when I asked a gentleman who was civil to me and
Jemima what 'Serious Senilis' meant, he said it was the Latin for
' a heavy father,' or serious old man; and serious old men they may
well he called, for this is what they 're like in Jemima's drawing, which
is the very moral of them, all covered over with white hair, and little
skin-partings on the tops of their green heads, and bowing and winking
at you as you walk through, like so many rows of wicked old gentlemen
that never had their hair cut.
" I shall never get over them old Seriouses as long as I live, never.
Indeed, what with the turn they gave me, and me coming upon that
pumpkin with the spikes in it, I was obliged to leave the Gardens
and take the first, 'bus back to town, and very glad I was to get ont of
the vegetaffe world, you maybe sure; for what with the hot rooms
those plants live in, and those dreadful old Seriouses, with their
white heads, and the ualy things curling about, in the air in baskets,
with long legs and open mouths, which they call the audacious plants,
and most audacious they looked. It may suit Sir W. Hookey to live
there, but I'd rather be among Christians, if you please.
" So no more at present, from
"lours respectfully,
" The Old Lady."
WE ABE NONE OF US SAFE !
Thebe seems to be no escaping Professor Hollow ay. For rome
lime he had got a live Earl shut up in the Villa Messina at Florence^
swallowing pills by the hun-
dred, and writing letters by
the score, to sav what benefit
he derived in all the maladies
under the sun—and the sun
is very comprehensive at
Florence. This week Pro-
fessor Holloway has got
into his hands a Waterloo
hero's legs, which had been
changed into all colours by
rheumatic gout; so that, if
not positively bow legs, they
were rainbow legs in one
respect, at all events. Hol-
loway evidently sets his ointment—as bird-catchers set bird-lime—for
all the " bad legs " in the world to hop on to it. We understand that
the Professor is setting a trap for the Pope's leg-ate, in the event of
Ambassadors being exchanged, and will undertake the cure of soles to
any extent, under the pontifical patronage.
no wonder.
The Morning Post says, "A curse impends over Vienna." How caa
she help it, when the Emperor puts Austria under a Ban ?
181
A VISIT TO KEW GARDENS.
From " Our Own Old Lady."
" You can't think, Mr. Punch, how thankful I am to you for explaining
to me all about ihe great Oolite, and his testaceous disposition?, and the
mysteries of Zoology, which, indeed, it is a wonderful thing to think of
the earth having a crust, all as one as a beefsteak pie, and society, I
suppose, like the»steaks, some at the top and some at the bottom, and
I am quite ashamed of my suspicions of the Palm—something—gra-
phical Society, which 1 've no doubt, now, that they take their name from
ihe Hev. Mb,. Palet, a highly respectable archdeacon of ihe Established
Church, and wrote a Natural Theology, and Evidences, showing us the
wonders of nature, which my son has the work, and Lord Bbotjgham
wrote an edition of it, and he wouldn't countenance anything that wasn't
quite correct, as is well known.
"However, Mr. Punch, what with your explanations about those poor
dear Chelonians, that live like the poor neglected brick-makers among
the London clay (though how it isn't all made into bricks before this,
with the houses they're building in all directions, I'm sure /can't think),
and my son's talk out of Mr. Paley about the wonders of the vegetable
world, I said to myself, says I, to think of there being a vegetable
world, and I, fifty-five my last birth-day, and never saw it, and accus-
tomed to greengrocers all my life, for the late dear deceased he wasn'r,
happy without his two dishes of vegetables regular, so I determined 10
pay a visit to this vege'able world, and hearing it was to b3 seen in
Q. Gardens, I thought I would take an opportunity this fine weather,
and took the 'bus accordingly, at Sloane Street, and a very civil con-
ductor he was, with whiskers and a gold band round his hat. I t hought
we never should have got, there, and was very near getting out at the
egg-hatching machine, but, however, we reached the place sale at last,
myself and my niece, for I was determined she shouldn't grow up as I
had done, having placed her at an establishment near Turnham Green,
where I made the conductor stop and called for her, and why that old
gentleman next the door did swear so I'm sure I can't think, for we
weren't above ten minutes waiting for Jemima.
"Well, Sir, we got to the Gardens where the vegetable wot Id is; and
it's well I expected to see vegetables, for there isn't no flowers to
signify; but hot-houses upon hot-houses. How the coals are paid for
isn't my business. And such a Conservatory ; all made of glass, and
covering I don't know how much ground; all under the care of Sir
William Hookey. First, we went into the Conservatory, where
they've the poor plants transported from Botany Bay—what for I'm
sure I don't know, but no good, I'll be bound—and very ugly they looked,
set in bush-ranges, which you may have read of, and put in solitary
confinement in tubs, on short allowance of earth.
" But oh, Sir, that Palm-house ! The heat was awful, and the company
suffered a deal; and it's little watering them plants want, I'll be bound.
And all the fanning in the world isn't any use; for the more you fan,
the hotter you get, for it's heated up to the topical regions—that is,
the parts about the line, which must be the no-clothes line, where the
benighted blacks go stark naked. This was the vegetable world I
wanted to see, where you've trees that grow umbrellas and chair-
bottoms, and trees that grow bread equal to hot-rolls, and custards, and
cocoa-nuts, and chocolate, and tea, and coffee, and other groceries, and one
that makes lace, and another that grows sugar and nutmeg and all sorts
of spices, and one that you milk for all the world like a cow, and another
that makes butter, and another that makes pots to put it in: and the
Cabbage Palm, equal to the best savoys, and the Guinea Palm, which
grows the Oil of Palm, which guineas is well known to be; and
there's some, no doubt the Aristocracy, that sp°nd their time
catching flies; and some that carry water; and there's dwarfs among
'em, and'an Oldest Inhabitant,' into the bargain, Sir W. Hookey
says in his book, which his name is Baobab, and my niece, who draws
sweetly, took the portraits of some of them, ain't they pretty ? Theie
■was one little plant I was tempted to put into my reticule—the Paw-
paw—that makes tough meat tender, a great comfort it would be to
one, as none but a housekeeper can know.
"But of all the vegetable world I saw that, day, and dear knows I saw
plenty, and almost fainted among the Palms, there was one dreadful
house in particular, where the Hugh_ Forbeses live, and awful plants
they are, like melons, with spikes a sticking out in every direction, and
tickets written up—'Visitors are requested not to touch the plants,'
and they'd better not, for I came on one of the Hugh Forbeses promis-
cuously, and my shrieks brought in three gardeners, very civil young
men, and how they got me off I hardly know, but grateful I was I'd put
on my stout bombazine that morning. And in the same house there's
a4ieap of little old plants, called the Cereus Senilis in Sir W. Hookey's
catalogue; and when I asked a gentleman who was civil to me and
Jemima what 'Serious Senilis' meant, he said it was the Latin for
' a heavy father,' or serious old man; and serious old men they may
well he called, for this is what they 're like in Jemima's drawing, which
is the very moral of them, all covered over with white hair, and little
skin-partings on the tops of their green heads, and bowing and winking
at you as you walk through, like so many rows of wicked old gentlemen
that never had their hair cut.
" I shall never get over them old Seriouses as long as I live, never.
Indeed, what with the turn they gave me, and me coming upon that
pumpkin with the spikes in it, I was obliged to leave the Gardens
and take the first, 'bus back to town, and very glad I was to get ont of
the vegetaffe world, you maybe sure; for what with the hot rooms
those plants live in, and those dreadful old Seriouses, with their
white heads, and the ualy things curling about, in the air in baskets,
with long legs and open mouths, which they call the audacious plants,
and most audacious they looked. It may suit Sir W. Hookey to live
there, but I'd rather be among Christians, if you please.
" So no more at present, from
"lours respectfully,
" The Old Lady."
WE ABE NONE OF US SAFE !
Thebe seems to be no escaping Professor Hollow ay. For rome
lime he had got a live Earl shut up in the Villa Messina at Florence^
swallowing pills by the hun-
dred, and writing letters by
the score, to sav what benefit
he derived in all the maladies
under the sun—and the sun
is very comprehensive at
Florence. This week Pro-
fessor Holloway has got
into his hands a Waterloo
hero's legs, which had been
changed into all colours by
rheumatic gout; so that, if
not positively bow legs, they
were rainbow legs in one
respect, at all events. Hol-
loway evidently sets his ointment—as bird-catchers set bird-lime—for
all the " bad legs " in the world to hop on to it. We understand that
the Professor is setting a trap for the Pope's leg-ate, in the event of
Ambassadors being exchanged, and will undertake the cure of soles to
any extent, under the pontifical patronage.
no wonder.
The Morning Post says, "A curse impends over Vienna." How caa
she help it, when the Emperor puts Austria under a Ban ?