Punch: Punch (21.1851)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 163

PUNCH'S NOTES AND QUERIES.

V"~N vr curious and enter-

v-AsM ^—taming contempo-
y^p^^^y^K^>S rary' bearing the
^^^X^^V^^^^^^^^v *^'e °^ "Notes and
■t^^A^^^^^^^sv^^^^^^ Queries" seems to
VYiN^ have notes addressed

\^*^ vv to him occasionally,

V \ \\ \ which ought to have

\S vte^\ \ heen f°rwar(ied to

\ us ; and we shall
lllls-v. Ay take the liberty,
~~~^> /"V-n therefore, of now

V_ X^^^^X and then writing re-

^ ^\ plies to them.

y T^?\ \ Xyx An individual in

^1 \ 'VW a recent number,

' n| s \ wn0 signs himself

•jKJl Cmbs M \ " L. L. L,"-(did

JCvWmL^cx il ever *bree ells go

a\ ^^ffl^r^CS^ V ,f- to such an absurd

r /" ! ^ fMi^ 'l^?^—- length before ?)—in-
VV ) >^n^AAi^*^l veZ~~~ quires into the al-
\y/^^^lMf%r' Trrrr^ —leged insanity of
""^/Ip^It xT~ rffiorx^ March hares. We

frmKJaw beg to assure him

/T(£| r \ \^ that there is no au-

'=30=ik thority for the say-

^ =es^s5t_-'~-^rv_ ing, that hares ac-
tually go mad in
March, though it is
about the time of
the year when each

very particular hare may be seen to stand on end—which is, perhaps,
the origin of the old saying.

Dalstonia, in the same number, inquires, " Who wrote Mother
Bunch's Tales? " Need we tell him that Mother Bunch's Tales all
came out of Mother Bunch's head in the usual manner ?

One A. C. writes a short note to inquire what is the meaning of
" Boosing Grass." We never heard of " boosing grass," but we have no
hesitation in explaining it to be any kind of grass that a man, in a state
of intoxication, happens to lie down upon.

We shall, from time to time, furnish answers to the notes—as well
as the queries—sent to our contemporary ; and those who do^ not find a
satisfactory reply in the pages of our ingenious little friend, will,
perhaps, meet with enlightenment in our own periodical.

an histoeical tea-party.

The English Court Circular is the most vital bit of English history;
and more than any other piece of literature exalts us in our own eyes,
and in the eyes of the nations as a most philosophic and withal
most methodical people. By means of the Circular—which is a note
written to the present world and the world's posterity—we and future
generations learn that on such a morning, on such an hour, Maj sty or
minor Koyalty took a ride or walk; a knowledge, that doubtless
enhances the value of royalty in the breasts of the loyal and the con-
templative. With this abounding faith in the exalting uses of Court
news as shouted from the minarets of a palace, we are happy to find
that the visits of two of Her Majesty's little boys are already deemed
of sufficient national importance to be gravely chronicleu for the present
and the future:

■'The Prince op Wales and Prince Alfred honoured Sir James and Lady
Clark with their company at tea, at Birkhall, on Saturday afternoon!"

This announcement is affecting by its very simplicity. "At Tea ! "
Two monosyllables set forth the whole ceremony. As two cherry-stones
may be made to contain a double service of tea-spoons; so do two
words shut up all the pomp and circumstance of a princely tea-party !
Yet, we fear that the very brevity of the proclamation, however sufficient
for the severely wise, may fail to satisfy the more curious and news-
mongering of our generation. Busy thousands may ask—and vainly
ask—" was it green tea ? " Another multitude may anxiously inquire
—"was the tea black?" A third impulsive host may emphatically
desire to learn—" was it mixed ? " History having chronicled the fact
of the " Tea," ought not to have omitted the particular canister. This
is a fault; nevertheless, let us be thankful that we are assured, past
all doubt., present and future, that tea was stirred, sipped, and
swallowed by the Prince of Wales and Prince Alfred, at the table
of Sir James and Lady Clark, at Birkhall, on a Saturday afternoon !
To our stock of historical knowledge this is something.

Great is the effect of the doings of baby and boy princes upon the

folks they are in due season to control and govern. How much of our
veneration towards Peince Gargantua may we owe to our knowledge
of his doings with his nurses; who, every morning, to cheer him up,
" would play with a knife upon the glasses, on the bottles with their
stopples, and on the pottle-pots with their lids and covers !" And
when we learn that, in his infancy, Prince Pantagruel "at every
meal supped up the milk of four thousand six hundred cows," we are
wisely prepared by such knowledge to await and expect the full-blown
glory of his after-time. Thus, we shall consider the tea-table of Lady
Clark as the starting historical point of the little Prince of Wales
and the lesser Prince Alfred.

lines to be recited on the closing of
the exhibition.

At last the Exhibition closes - but
Most things that open are obliged to shut;
Its knell is tolled by its electric clock,
Which strikes—and everybody feels the shock.
"Happy," cries Colonel Sibthorp, "the release! "
Well, well!—the Exhibition's end is peace.
That end was gained, and Sibthorp must confess
The whole affair has been a great success.

Among ourselves—with folks of foreign lands,
We've had one general scene of shaking hands;
The whole World's arms have great John Bull embraced,
But failed to compass his enormous waist.
Grim Disaffection ne'er has reared his head,
With beard, ana blouse, and Phrygian fool's cap red;
Nor formed the pike, nor forged the bolt of fear
By loading bottles meant for ginger-beer.
Still London stands, her thousand sewers amid,
And Liverpool—exactly where she did.
'Twas order everywhere, and quiet all:
There ne'er were better manners at a ball.

Oh cabmen ! mourn the Exhibition's end!
You 'busmen, also, should lament your fri-nd;
The arts it fostered—they were not a few—
Quce prosunt omnibus—-were good for you.
Alas ! ye worthies of the whip and rein,
When can you hope for such a chance again?
With such a mull nude of fares to meet,
And such a lot of foreigners to cheat ?

Time, the grp*i Showman, soon will let us know
The grand resu^s uf this gigantic Show.
A finer taste—there's reason to suppose—
Will carve our furniture, and cut our clothes ;
Will o'er our glass, our plate, and crockery reign,
And dye our fabrics with a nicer stain ;
Enhance each ornament which Beauty decks,
And add attraction to the female sex.

Meanwhile, a new machine our harvest mows;
A novel fire-arm threatens England's foes.

But all that's fine must have its day, or hour—
The World's great Fair, or garden's little flower ;
And still less time can I afford to spend—
So thus 1 bring my verses to an end.

THE EXPECTED REFORM.

My Dear Lord John Russell,

What are you doing ? I have not heard a word from you for
an age. It is said that you are at work on a plan for extending the
representation—how do you get on with it? Mind what you are
about: as it is, you will have trouble enough with the Irish Brigade
next session; but that will be nothing to the difficulty you will encounter
from the manoeuvres of the papal enemy, if you allow Parliament to
dissolve without having considerably increased the representatives of
true Britons. I am, my dear Lord, everybody's adviser, but more
particularly, at the present moment, yours,

P.S. The Conservatives and Protectionists may, perhaps, think it
desirable that the Irish element should possess more influence in the
legislature than it has already. In that case they will, of course, do
their utmost to defeat any such plan of Reform as that which 1
recommend you to bring forward. P.

I