DOI issue:
January to June, 1849
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16548#0204
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. J97
THE THREEPENNY FARE MYSTERY.
If I could recommend a sure way of advancement and profit
to a young man about town, it would be, after he lias come away
from a friend's house and dinner, where he has to a surety had
more than enough of claret and good things, when he ought to be
going to bed at midnight, so that he might rise fresh and early for
his morning's work, to stop, nevertheless, for a couple of hours at
the Club, and smoke in this room and tipple weak brandy-and-water.
By a perseverance in this system, you may get a number of
advantages. By sitting up till 3 of a summer morning, you have
the advantage of seeing the sun rise, and as you walk home to Pump
Court, can mark the quiet of the streets in the rosy glimmer of
the dawn. You can easily spend in that smoking-room (as for the
billiard-room adjacent, how much more can't you get rid of there1,
and without any inconvenience or extravagance whatever, enough
money to keep you a horse. Three or four cigars when you are in
the Club, your case filled when you are going away, a couple of
glasses of very weak Cognac and cold wal er, will cost you sixty
pounds a-year, as sure as your name is Bob Brown. And as for
the smoking and tippling, plus bihiards, they may be made to cost
anything.
And then you have the advantage of hearing such delightful
and instructive conversation in a Club smoking-room, between
the hours of 12 and 3 ! Men who frequent that place at that
hour are commonly men of studious habits and philosophical
and reflective minds, to whose opinions it is pleasant and profitable
to listen. They are full of anecdotes, which are always moral and
well-chosen ; their talk is never free, or on light subjects. I have
oue or two old smoking-room pillars in my eye now, who would
be perfect models for any young gentleman entering life, and to
whom a father could not do better than intrust the education of
his son.
To drop the satirical vein, my dear Bob, I am compelled as a
man to say my opinion, that the best thing you can do with regard
to that smoking-room is to keep out of it; or at any rate never
j to be seen in the place after midnight. They are very pleasant and
j frank, those jolly fellows, those loose fishes, those fast young men
—but the race in life is not to such fast men as these—and you
who want to win must get up early of a morning, my boy. You
and an old college-chum or two may sit together over your cigar-
boxes in one another's chambers, and talk till all hours, and do
yourselves good probably. Talking among you is a wholesome
exercitation; humour comes in an easy flow; it doesn't preclude
grave argument and manly interchange of thought—I own myself,
when I was younger to have smoked many a pipe with advantage in
the company of Doctor Parr. Honest men, with pipes or cigars in
their mouths, have great physical advantages in conversation. You
may stop talking if you like—but the breaks of silence never
seem disagreeable, being filled up by the puffing of the smoke—
hence there is no awkwardness in resuming the conversation— no
straining for effect—sentiments are delivered in a grave easy manner
—the cigar harmonises the society, and soothes at once the speaker
and the subject whereon be converses. I have no doubt that it is
from the habit of smoking that Turks and American Indians are
such monstrous well-bred men. The pipe draws wisdom from the
lips of the philosopher, and shuts up the mouth of the foolish: it
generates a style of conversation, contemplative, thoughtful,
benevolent, and unaffected: in fact, dear Bob, I must out with
it—1 am an old smoker. At home I have done it up the chimney
rather than not do it (the which I own is a crime). I vow and
believe that Tie cigar has been one of the greatest creature-
comforts of my life—a kind companion, a gentle stimulant, an
Prom the library we proceed to the carved and gilded drawing-room of the amiable anodyne, a cementer of friendship. May I die if I abuse
club, the damask hangings of which are embroidered with our lovely emblem, that kindly weed which has given me so much pleasure !
the Polyanthus, and which is fitted with a perfectly unintelligible splendour. Since I have been a member of the Club, what numbers of men
Sardanapalus, if he had pawned one of his kingdoms, could not have had I have occupied this rooin and departed from it, like so many smoked-
such mirrors as one of those in which I see my dear Bob admiring the tie of out cigars, leaving nothing behind but a little disregarded ashes !
Passenger. "Sixpence! Why it's marked up Threepence!"
Conductor. "Yes, Sir. Threppunse when you don't get in between
Charing Cross and the Bank, or from Tuesdays to Mile End down to
the Gate by Ungerfod, or Edger Road to Black Lion Lane or Rathbone
Place and Blackwall Railway-—or else you must get out at St. Paul's
Churchyard, or you can go to Pimlico all the way if you like—beyond
that distance—it's Sixpunse ! "
ME. BROWN'S LETTERS TO A YOUNG MAN ABOUT
TOWN.
mr. brown the elder takes mr brown the younger to a club.
his cravat with such complacency, and I am sure I cannot comprehend why
Smith and Brown should have their persons reflected in such vast sheets
of quicksilver; or why; if we have a mind to a sixpenny cup of tea and
muffins, when we come m with muddy boots from a dirty walk, those refresh-
ments should be served to us as we occupy a sofa much more splendid, and
far better stuffed, than any Louis Quatorze ever sate upon. I want a sofa,
as I want a friend, upon which I can repose, familiarly. If you can't have
intimate terms and freedom with one and the other, they are of no good.
A full-dress Club is an absurdity—and no man ought to come into this room
except in a uniform or a court suit. I daren't put my feet on yonder sofa
for fear of sullying the damask, or, worse still, for fear that Hicks the Com-
mittee-man should pass, and spy out my sacrilegious boots on the cushion.
We pass through these double-doors, and enter rooms of a very different
character.
By the faint and sickly odour pervading this apartment, by the opened
windows, by the circular stains upon the marble tables, which indicate the
presence of brandies-and-waters long passed into the world of Spirits, my
dear Bob will have no difficulty in recognising the smoking-room, where I
dare say he will pass a good deal of his valuable time henceforth.
Bob, my boy, they drop off in the course of twenty_ years, our boon
companions, and jolly fellow bottle-crackers.—I mind me of many
a good fellow who has talked and laughed here,.and whose pipe is
put out for ever. Men, I remember, as dashing youngsters but
the other day, have passed into the state of old fogies : they have
sons, Sir, of almost our age, when first we joined the Polyanthus.
Grass grows over others in all parts of the world. Where is poor
Ned ? Where is poor Pred ? Dead rhymes with Ned and Fred
too—their place knows them not—their names one year appeared
at the end of the Club list, under that dismal category of Mem-
bers Deceased," in which you and I shall rank some day. Do you
keep that subject steadily in your mind ? I do not see why one
shouldn't meditate upon Death in Pall Mall as well as in a howling
wilderness. There is enough to remind one of it at every corner.
There is a strange face looking out of Jack's old lodgings in Jermyn
Street,—somebody else has got the Club chair which Tom used to
occupy. He doesn't dine here and grumble as he used formerly.
He has been sent for, and has not come back again—one day Pate
will send for us, and we shall not return—and the people will come
Vol. 16.
7
THE THREEPENNY FARE MYSTERY.
If I could recommend a sure way of advancement and profit
to a young man about town, it would be, after he lias come away
from a friend's house and dinner, where he has to a surety had
more than enough of claret and good things, when he ought to be
going to bed at midnight, so that he might rise fresh and early for
his morning's work, to stop, nevertheless, for a couple of hours at
the Club, and smoke in this room and tipple weak brandy-and-water.
By a perseverance in this system, you may get a number of
advantages. By sitting up till 3 of a summer morning, you have
the advantage of seeing the sun rise, and as you walk home to Pump
Court, can mark the quiet of the streets in the rosy glimmer of
the dawn. You can easily spend in that smoking-room (as for the
billiard-room adjacent, how much more can't you get rid of there1,
and without any inconvenience or extravagance whatever, enough
money to keep you a horse. Three or four cigars when you are in
the Club, your case filled when you are going away, a couple of
glasses of very weak Cognac and cold wal er, will cost you sixty
pounds a-year, as sure as your name is Bob Brown. And as for
the smoking and tippling, plus bihiards, they may be made to cost
anything.
And then you have the advantage of hearing such delightful
and instructive conversation in a Club smoking-room, between
the hours of 12 and 3 ! Men who frequent that place at that
hour are commonly men of studious habits and philosophical
and reflective minds, to whose opinions it is pleasant and profitable
to listen. They are full of anecdotes, which are always moral and
well-chosen ; their talk is never free, or on light subjects. I have
oue or two old smoking-room pillars in my eye now, who would
be perfect models for any young gentleman entering life, and to
whom a father could not do better than intrust the education of
his son.
To drop the satirical vein, my dear Bob, I am compelled as a
man to say my opinion, that the best thing you can do with regard
to that smoking-room is to keep out of it; or at any rate never
j to be seen in the place after midnight. They are very pleasant and
j frank, those jolly fellows, those loose fishes, those fast young men
—but the race in life is not to such fast men as these—and you
who want to win must get up early of a morning, my boy. You
and an old college-chum or two may sit together over your cigar-
boxes in one another's chambers, and talk till all hours, and do
yourselves good probably. Talking among you is a wholesome
exercitation; humour comes in an easy flow; it doesn't preclude
grave argument and manly interchange of thought—I own myself,
when I was younger to have smoked many a pipe with advantage in
the company of Doctor Parr. Honest men, with pipes or cigars in
their mouths, have great physical advantages in conversation. You
may stop talking if you like—but the breaks of silence never
seem disagreeable, being filled up by the puffing of the smoke—
hence there is no awkwardness in resuming the conversation— no
straining for effect—sentiments are delivered in a grave easy manner
—the cigar harmonises the society, and soothes at once the speaker
and the subject whereon be converses. I have no doubt that it is
from the habit of smoking that Turks and American Indians are
such monstrous well-bred men. The pipe draws wisdom from the
lips of the philosopher, and shuts up the mouth of the foolish: it
generates a style of conversation, contemplative, thoughtful,
benevolent, and unaffected: in fact, dear Bob, I must out with
it—1 am an old smoker. At home I have done it up the chimney
rather than not do it (the which I own is a crime). I vow and
believe that Tie cigar has been one of the greatest creature-
comforts of my life—a kind companion, a gentle stimulant, an
Prom the library we proceed to the carved and gilded drawing-room of the amiable anodyne, a cementer of friendship. May I die if I abuse
club, the damask hangings of which are embroidered with our lovely emblem, that kindly weed which has given me so much pleasure !
the Polyanthus, and which is fitted with a perfectly unintelligible splendour. Since I have been a member of the Club, what numbers of men
Sardanapalus, if he had pawned one of his kingdoms, could not have had I have occupied this rooin and departed from it, like so many smoked-
such mirrors as one of those in which I see my dear Bob admiring the tie of out cigars, leaving nothing behind but a little disregarded ashes !
Passenger. "Sixpence! Why it's marked up Threepence!"
Conductor. "Yes, Sir. Threppunse when you don't get in between
Charing Cross and the Bank, or from Tuesdays to Mile End down to
the Gate by Ungerfod, or Edger Road to Black Lion Lane or Rathbone
Place and Blackwall Railway-—or else you must get out at St. Paul's
Churchyard, or you can go to Pimlico all the way if you like—beyond
that distance—it's Sixpunse ! "
ME. BROWN'S LETTERS TO A YOUNG MAN ABOUT
TOWN.
mr. brown the elder takes mr brown the younger to a club.
his cravat with such complacency, and I am sure I cannot comprehend why
Smith and Brown should have their persons reflected in such vast sheets
of quicksilver; or why; if we have a mind to a sixpenny cup of tea and
muffins, when we come m with muddy boots from a dirty walk, those refresh-
ments should be served to us as we occupy a sofa much more splendid, and
far better stuffed, than any Louis Quatorze ever sate upon. I want a sofa,
as I want a friend, upon which I can repose, familiarly. If you can't have
intimate terms and freedom with one and the other, they are of no good.
A full-dress Club is an absurdity—and no man ought to come into this room
except in a uniform or a court suit. I daren't put my feet on yonder sofa
for fear of sullying the damask, or, worse still, for fear that Hicks the Com-
mittee-man should pass, and spy out my sacrilegious boots on the cushion.
We pass through these double-doors, and enter rooms of a very different
character.
By the faint and sickly odour pervading this apartment, by the opened
windows, by the circular stains upon the marble tables, which indicate the
presence of brandies-and-waters long passed into the world of Spirits, my
dear Bob will have no difficulty in recognising the smoking-room, where I
dare say he will pass a good deal of his valuable time henceforth.
Bob, my boy, they drop off in the course of twenty_ years, our boon
companions, and jolly fellow bottle-crackers.—I mind me of many
a good fellow who has talked and laughed here,.and whose pipe is
put out for ever. Men, I remember, as dashing youngsters but
the other day, have passed into the state of old fogies : they have
sons, Sir, of almost our age, when first we joined the Polyanthus.
Grass grows over others in all parts of the world. Where is poor
Ned ? Where is poor Pred ? Dead rhymes with Ned and Fred
too—their place knows them not—their names one year appeared
at the end of the Club list, under that dismal category of Mem-
bers Deceased," in which you and I shall rank some day. Do you
keep that subject steadily in your mind ? I do not see why one
shouldn't meditate upon Death in Pall Mall as well as in a howling
wilderness. There is enough to remind one of it at every corner.
There is a strange face looking out of Jack's old lodgings in Jermyn
Street,—somebody else has got the Club chair which Tom used to
occupy. He doesn't dine here and grumble as he used formerly.
He has been sent for, and has not come back again—one day Pate
will send for us, and we shall not return—and the people will come
Vol. 16.
7