Punch: Punch (21.1851)

200

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

MRS. GRUNDY ON BLOOMERISM.

ity-toity !—don't tell
me about the nasty
stupid fashion!
Stuff aud nonsense!—
the idea's enough to
put one in a passion.
I d allowno such high
jinkses, if I was the
creatures' parent.
Bloomers are they—
forward minxses ?
I'd soon Bloomer
'em, 1 warrant.
I've no patience nor
forbearance with
'em—scornin' them
as bore 'em;
What ! they can't
dress like their mo-
thers was content to
dress afore 'em,—

Wearing what-d'ye-call-'ems—Gracious ! brass itself ain't half so brazen.
Why, they must look more audacious than that what's-i-name—Amazon !
Ha ! they '11 smoke tobacco next, and take their thimblefuls of brandy,
Bringing shame upon their sex, by aping of the jack-a-dandy.
Yes; and then you '11 have them shortly showing off their bold bare faces,
Prancing all so pert and portly at their Derbys and their races.

Oh ! when once they have begun, there's none can say where they'll be stopping,—

Out they'll go with dog and gun, perhaps a-shooting and a-popping.

Aye, and like as not, you '11 see, if you've a Bloomer for your daughter,

Her ladyship, so fine and free, a-pulling matches on the water;

Sitting in a pottus tap, a-talking politics, and jawing;

Or else a-reading Punch, mayhap, and hee-hee-heeing and haw-hawing.

1 can't a-bear such flighty ways—I can't abide such flaunty tastes.

And so they must leave off their stays, to show their dainty shapes and waists /

To set their ankles off, indeed, they wear short trousers with a trimmin'.

I'd not have my feet fillagreed, for ever so, like these young women.

No; you won't see me, I'll be bound, dress'd half-and-half, as a young feller ;

I '11 stick to my old shawl and gownd, my pattens, and my umbereller.

VERSES ON HALF-A-PINT OF BEER.

by a heavy vetekan.

Oh, that the brewer's noble skill

Could concentrate the precious treasure!

Perpetual, then, should be my swill—
An endless source of liquid pleasure.

The fluid, ere it touched my lips,
Seemed sparkling with ethereal fire ;

Happy the man who calmly sips
His drop of Meux and Co.'s entire \

Sweet is the half-and-half at night;

In it the hops' bright blossoms shine
More calmly—beautifully bright—

Than any other kind of wine.

Restorer of the thirsty soul!

' lis thou the weary frame canst cheer;
Grief owns the powerful control

Of thee—thou thrice X-celling beer !

Philosophers' and poets' theme,

Thou helpest thought at every stage;

Thou promptest fiction's fairy dream,
As well as philosophic page.

Then let me drop a silent tear
Into the middle of the measure;

Though, weeping o'er a much-loved beer,
The tears are not of grief, but pleasure.

Irish Male Milliners.

The Belfast Mercury has a notice of Ribbonism
in Belfast. The Cork Examiner adverts to Bloom-
erism in Cork. Women taking to Bloomerism
are bad enough ; but men who take to Ribbonism
are undoubtedly worse.

THE TOP-BOOTED SCHOOL.

For the Relief of Agricultural Destitution in Useful Knowledge.

How shocking, says Mr. Adam Ricardo Smith, the fact, that there
are at this day in this kingdom hundreds of Agriculturists of all ages—
from the earliest years of discretion, so called, to seventy and upwards
—running wild about Protection! How painful to think of so many
minds possessed of but one idea, and that the idea of dear corn! What an
awful thing to hear them actually grumble at peace, because wheat
sold at so high a rate during the war, or complain of the abundant har-
vest, on account of its cheapening grain! How pitiable the state of
these poor creatures, who believe that machinery is ruining the country;
who are persuaded that no way is so good as the old one—not even the
railway—and who denounce Free Trade, condemn the repeal of the
bread-tax, and execrate the memory of Sir Robert Peel in terms that
will not bear repetition !

And why—demands Adam Ricardo Smith—are these rough.—yet
honest—victims of prejudice and delusion to be abandoned to their
fallacies? Must they be given upas wholly impracticable ? Shall no
friendly hand be stretched forth to grasp their benumbed fists, and help
their dead-weight out of the mire? Well, Adam Ricabdo Smith, you
will be rejoiced to hear that such a benevolent attempt has been made;
with what success if you would know, come, Adam, and accompany us
to the Top-Booted School.

This unique educational institution, Mr. Smith, was founded by an
enterprising philanthropist, to whom the idea of it was suggested by
the success of the Ragged Schools. Enter. No, you are not mistaken,
good Sir: it is conducted in a public-house. The founder was a man
of the world, Sir. He knew he should never induce those whom he
sought to instruct to assemble in a Mechanics' Institute, or a lecture-
room. So, like a sensible fellow, he took the Barley Mow Inn, close
to the Corn Market, and set about the accomplishment of his humane
purpose in the natural—we may say, endearing—character of landlord.

You may suppose that, in the execution of his design, he at first
encountered some opposition. Who was he? what did he know about
it ? what call had he got to " intervere ? " were the most moderate of the
demands that were roared at him, when he made a beginning of his
project by stating a few of the simpler principles of Political Economy
in the common room. Gibes, if not iokes, were lanched at his head,

and tumblers would probably have followed, but for fear of the expense
of breakage. And now, Sir, behold the result!

Before you is a School for adult farmers, based on the principle of
mutual instruction. We have called it a Top-Booted School—however,
you see there are leggings and gaiters in it as well as top-boots. Hark !
A member of the society has just read a paper—another proceeds to
deliver his opinion on the leading article. Hear his facts and figures—
had you any idea that such an amount of statistics and arithmetic could
be contained in that bullet head ? He is interrupted by an opposite
neighbour—really with some degree of politeness—who denies that
land can be considered as raw material. A discussion ensues—noae
the drier for good liquor, nor the more obscure for a little smoke: for
in this school they allow grog, beer, and pipes—Bacco and tobacco,
as the Italians say.

Mark yonder expansive red face, supported by those two broad
palms. It indicates little philosophy—except, as you might say, the
Chaw-Baconian; yet the owner of it has arrived very nearly to
the perception of the law of supply and demand. There is a back
turned toward us; its breadth, you see, is; _ remarkable. Yet the
proprietor's principles are broader than his loins—as broad as they
formerly were narrow. Listen—he joins in the conversation. "If we
takes "—he has but recently commenced grammar—" if we takes their
earn," he observes, "they'll take our mannifacturs ; and zo it's as
broad as 'tis long." He is, you perceive, Sir, as Mr. Disraeli called
his South Bucks audience the other day, a man of substance, as well as
a man of sense ; though the latter has only begun to glimmer But
then it has but just been illumined by instruction.

That burly yeoman, now grinning from ear to ear at the speaker's
refutation of a protectionist fallacy, Sir, is regularly " up " in hydraulics,
and will be happy to initiate you into the mysteries of thorough
drainage—or will explain the beer-engine to you, if you prefer that.
Our friend in the nailed boots is a mechanician, and has invented a clod-
crusher, which is even more effective than his chaussure. Chemistry is
the hobby of yonder gentleman of stable-minded apparel and phy-
siognomy. Hear him talk about the superphosphate of lime !—and a
year ago, Sir, he didn't know the difference, chemically speaking,
between the carbonate of that alkaloid and caseine. And when we
tell you that most of these gentlemen, with the help of a dictionary,
read your valuable works, we hope you will not be dissatisfied with
your visit to the Top-Booted School, Mr. Adam Ricardo Smith.