Punch: Punch (22.1852)

PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

173

ficial result for the Regeneration of Man, I have brought a cigar
with me, purposely to smoke it, in order to know what the feeling
may be like. I now move for your permission, ladies, to try the
experiment."

This being speedily granted, a light was brought, and the intrepid lec-
turer began, in the most heroic manner, to whiff the cigar, which she de-
scribed as being sold to her " as a full-flavoured Cuba." She represented
the effects as being of a most nauseous description, and was proceeding
most warmly to explain her sensations under the existing experiment,
when, from some unexplained cause, she came to a sudden stop, and,
turning very pale, sank down upon her chair.

At this point, a gurgling sound of suppressed laughter was heard,
and, the door being thrown open, Christopher, the Page, was dis-

THE GREAT PRIMA DONNA QUESTION.

Since the departure from among us of the Swedish Nightingale,
there has been no excitement in musical circles to equal that occasioned
by the rumoured appearance of the Mitcham "Lark," who is now
formally announced as being "exclusively" engaged at no less than
seven suburban tea-gardens. From exclusive sources of information,
we are enabled to furnish the following interesting particulars. The
" Lark," who is a native of Mitcham, first attracted the attention of the
beadle, who had overheard her youthful warblings through an open
window, and by whose introduction she became a member of a local
singing-class. Having been induced to take a short solo in the MS.

covered to be outside, listening at the key-hole. His ears were severely Symphony of a professor, known—to his family and a few friends—as
pulled by every one present, and the meeting abruptly broke up in a ; the Brompton Beethoven, the "Lark" was favourably noticed by the
state of the most talkative excitement. ] Drum of a military band who happened to be present on the occasion.

Thus ended the Lecture, by the Strong-Minded Women's Club, upon At the suggestion of the Drum, the friends of the " Lark" articled her
Smoking, with no other result than Mrs. Creachek being carried for three years to a tea-garden Flute, at whose benefit she at length
up to bed, very ill, by four Strong-Minded Women. i appeared, when she took all the tea-tables by storm, in "I'd be a

Butterfly," which she gave in character, with practicable wings and a
real " bower."

From this moment her career was one of uninterrupted triumph, to
the enjoyment of which a hopeless passion for a popular " Bones,"
whom she had met professionally among a party of Ethiopian Serenaders,
was the only drawback. Some say that she was never justified in
fostering this unhappy attachment; while others aver with equal
confidence that the gentleman was devoid of feeling, and that his
heart was so completely wrapped up in his "bones" as to be hard and
insensible towards any tender influence. The attachment of the
" Lark" to the wayward Ethiopian has, however, given a dark
complexion to her otherwise brilliant career; and, though many have
wondered at an infatuation exhibited thus perseveringly towards an
unworthy object—and such an object as an Ethiopian Serenader
necessarily makes himself—it is the excuse of the "Lark" that, like
Desdemona, she "saw his visage in his bones."

Blighted in her earliest affections—which had all the gushing, but
none of the ripeness, of the gooseberry—she transferred her love exclu-
sively to her art; and created immense sensation by her " Poor Mary

MR. JEREMIAH TOPS' ADYICK TO THE FARMERS.

I be a zimpul varming mun, a plane

unpollished veller;
At meetuns and at 'lections, zur, I cannot

blare and beller;
I loike a price vor wot I grows, but yet

I can't agree
As wuts and tummuts arn't as dear as
such loike ort to be.

Purtection may be woundy nice, but
then I alius zay,

That if it gives me
zummat more,
whoi! zummun
helse mun pay;

And as 1 ioik'e Anne ' " w^'ca was ?ot UD expressly for her, with a "real willow," at
to vind things ^e ^-W^ Twankey Tea Gardens, m the neighbourhood of one of our

cheap, wen I
be vorced to
buy, _
I'm notzurproised
that hother men
should veel the
zaam as I.

But if un be, or if
un baint,there's
such acoil about
un,

I tell 'ee plain, we varming men mun even do without un;
Foive Bob a quarter munnot set the land agin the town,
Or make we country chaps vorget our dooty to the Crown.

And, dang it! wen I think of all the row and hagitashun

Wich zuch purceedings mun purdooce throughout the British nashun;

Wot mischief-lovin chaps would come a-ripping up old sores;

Wot poor men's scowling faces we should zee about our doors;

Wot heaps of lamed herrings we mun hear on heither side;
Wot jokes and gibes and cuttin words we varmers mun abide;
Wot cute long-winded vellers from Lunnun would come down,
To tease and haggrawate us in hevery market town;

Wot angry meetuns there would be disturbin hevery shire ;

Wot landlords there would rave and swear, vor tenants to admire ;

I veel as such a row as this would be too much for we;

Zo! Darn the Dooty ! Let un goo ! and let we varmers be.

If we have been but hardly used, yet still I mun maintain

'Tis voolish to purwoke our foes to beat us once again ;

And he wool be the varmer's friend who virst the matter drops,

Mun be the fixed and firm belief of Jeremiah Tops.

Hard Swearing in France.

A most startling article appeared last week in the Times: it was a
catalogue of the various oaths taken by French statesmen and French
officials, from the time of the Consulate to the time of the last oath
proposed by the President;—oaths of all colours, and all as seriously
carved as the patches of harlequin's jacket. The President has, of
course, his own notion of an oath—that is, of an oath sworn by himself.
When a Chinaman is sworn, he breaks a saucer. When a Louis
Napoleon swears, nothing is broken except—the oath.

large manufacturing towns. Her fame having reached London, the
Manager of one of our Metropolitan Music Halls hastened to secure her
services on her own terms, which included the deposit of her railway
fare to London ; but, unfortunately, nothing was said about the class
by which she was to travel. This point remaining indefinite, the matter
came to the ears of the energetic impresario of one of our suburban
Saloons, who immediately sent down a first-class ticket for the "Lark,"
by which he is supposed to have secured her "exclusive" services. To
add to the complication of affairs, it seems that part of the stipulated
contract with the " Lark," was the promised engagement of the
" Bones," already alluded to—which induced the Manager of a favourite
Temple of Apollo, at Chelsea, to strain every nerve and muscle to se-
cure the " Bones," which he has succeeded in doing ; and he now claims
to have also obtained the right to the " Lark's " exclusive services.

A few days will, no doubt, determine the point at issue; but at
present the name of the Mitcham " Lark " stands at the head of so
many contradictory announcements, that we know not where we
ought to place our confidence.

Melancholy Intelligence.

Died the other day, sincerely execrated, the Income Tax. The
motto selected for its hatchment will (it is to be feared) be " Resurgam."
The following lines may, in the meanwhile, be consecrated to its
memory:—

Affliction sore in me you bore,

Remonstrance was in vain!
And shortly I—though now no more—

Shall trouble you again.

An Extrawny Taste.

"My dear Punch,—I am not partial to reading; but taking up
the paper just now, I saw that a Mr. Seeley, a bibliopoal—if that's
how you spell it—says that ' books are articles of luxury.' I beg to
give the most unqualified contradiction to that statement.

"A Guardsman, but not of the Blues."

" P.S. I am no bookworm."

unparalleled bores.

The Gloucester Chronicle describes a singular phenomenon called the
" Severn Bore." The Severn may have one remarkable bore, but that
is nothing to the crowded steam-boats and filthy water which are the
bores of the Thames.