DOI issue:
January to June, 1852
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16609#0214
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. ^07
and his great fat double chin had not the least little atom of whiskers;
and he invariably wore a white cravat, very tight, so that he always
looked hot; and being stout, and wearing a dress coat, and everything
else of black (except his Berlin gloves), he resembled an undertaker
rejoicing in a good business. But papa has brought home much more
hideous men, who have gone away leaving me perfectly in love with
them. There was a coarseness of expression about the Reverend
Mr. Ichabod's face, which, I suppose, made it so disagreeable. He
was a pushing, prosperous person, and his flocks used to make a great
deal of him, and present him with silver services, and new gowns, and
portraits of himself; but he deserted them without the least compunc-
tion, the moment anything better offered.
Mb. Blare had been staying at Brighton, and had called several
times, but, until the morning I speak of, we had been out. I was
near the window, feeding my canary birds, and wondering whether dear
Mr. Kidd ever went out as private tutor to teach the darling things the
feats he describes so delightfully, as, if so, I said I would make papaengage
him for mine. Mr. Blare came to the door, and saw me as he rang, and
he quite walked over the servant, rebuking the poor girl for falsehood in
trying to say " not at home." I was fairly caught, for I had let my birds
out, and I was afraid to leave them, or I should have run away.
" Ah, Miss Violet !" he said, marching into the room, his thick
boots creaking dreadfully. And stalking up to me, he frightened my
poor birds so, that they flew round and round the room, until one fell
down in the dust behind the looking-glass, and the other dashed
out into the hall, and half stunned itself against the window. I was
so angry !
" Here," he said, sitting himself down quite composedly (I wished
the light chair had crunched under him), "here, my dear young lady,
you behold an illustration of our depraved nature."
I looked at him, and felt quite inclined to agree with him. For I
always disliked him, as I am afraid what I have said will have dis-
covered. But while my poor bird was scratching, and fluttering, and
chirping in dismay behind the glass, I almost hated the Reverend
Ichabod.
" Thus," he continued, " we all act, like those silly and foolish birds."
" They are neither silly nor foolish, Mr. Blare," I said (I fear, quite
rudely), " but they know their friends, and dislike strangers." And I
tried to coax poor little Jujube from his cranny; and the little thing,
knowing my voice, was endeavouring to extricate himself, when
Mr. Blare, who had been looking at me impatiently, snatched up his
great thick cotton umbrella, and actually thrust it in between the wall
and the glass, to " poke the bird towards me," as he said. I was so
astonished at anybody thinking of such a thing, that I could hardly cry
out, and Mr. Blare, with a sort of grin, would certainly have killed
poor Jujube, or hurt him dreadfully, when, I am delighted to say, the
force of the great thick umbrella was too much for the fastenings which
held the glass, and down came the glass itself upon the fender, with a
smash that sent it into a thousand pieces. Poor Jujube flew to his
cage, and, dusty as he was, began to chirrup out his gratitude at being
delivered; while there stood the Reverend Ichabod Blare, with his
umbrella in his hand, and his moutb open. I could not help laughing,
startled as I was, to see his dismay.
" A bad omen, Mr. Blare," I said, " to break a looking-glass ! Ill
luck for seven years to come—at least, so my old nurse taught me."
But he would not laugh, and gave such a savage look at poor Jujube,
who was cleaning his wings, and chirping in exultation, that I was quite
glad I was there to protect the poor little creature. It was clear that
the horrid man thought he should have to pay the lodging-keeper for the
glass; as if papa would have heard of such a thing.
A Monster Sweep.
Op all the Sweeps that from time immemorial have knocked their
sooty implements together on the First of May, surely no noise ever
equalled that made by the destruction of the Crystal Palace, which com-
menced on that day. Such a set of Sweeps were never engaged on
such dirty work before; and the Parliament which ordered the beau-
tiful building to be swept away, proved itself, by flying so directly in
the face of the country, to be the Greatest Sweep that ever existed.
We hope when the elections come on, that the people will recollect that
the Sweep in question was a " Derby Sweep."
What will you let me have this Borough for?
Walpole said, " Every man has his price." We don't know about
every man, but it would seem from what the immaculate Coppock says,
that "Every Borough has its price." And as a general election is
coming on, we would advise him, with his experience, to start the
publication of a new weekly paper, to be called, " The Borough
Price List."
. The Greatest Objection to the Income-Tax.—The Income-Tax
is an insult to the national understanding. It is taxing the people with
inconsistency.
GOING THE WHOLE LAMB; OR, TOO MUCH OF A
GOOD THING.
How strange that the very same men who, last Session,
Tried to make us put up with the papal aggression,
Have been working as hard, on a recent occasion,
To prevent all precaution 'gainst foreign invasion!
Do they fancy that there's too much pride in the nation,
And think it requires a slight humiliation ?
Are their souls so to mercantile objects restricted,
That they care not what shame on their country's inflicted ?
Or—really they quite make one's faith in them waver—
Are they bidding for certain constituents' favour ?
Is their line only one of political scheming,
Are they, wide awake, canting, or honestly dreaming ?
Their very extremely forbearing opinions,
In practice, would quickly enslave these dominions;
Their objection to fight—though defensive the battle—
Would degrade us, ere long, into mere servile cattle.
We agree with these gentlemen, freely and fully,
That the doughty John Bull must no more play John Bully ;
But if they must needs make a farther endeavour,
To bring down John Bull to John Ox—we cry, Never !
A MILITIA BILL IN 1952.
oubtless, could we peep another century
into futurity, perhaps, unless the Mil-
lennium is to arrive before that, we might
witness, in progress through the House
of Commons, a bill for the further Im-
provement of the National Defences.
In consequence of the immense progress
that science will have made by that time,
the debate foreshown to us, would pro-
bably evince, that some curious changes
had taken place in our munitions. One
Honourable Member would be heard
moving for returns of the acids employed
in maintaining the galvanic batteries
along the coast in an efficient state; and
another arguing that the regular steam
army was infinitely preferable to a
Militia, composed of engines taken from
behind the counter and the plough's
tail. A third, perhaps, would then be
found repudiating all recourse to phy-
sical dynamic machines; and declaring his conviction that the strongest
horse-power might be effectually resisted by the silent will, and the
quiet force of opinion.
A Hint to the Prince President.
Considering that the French Senators are expressly required to
legislate with their eyes shut, and on no account permitted to appear in
what an electro-biologist would term " a wakeful state," we really
almost wonder that a decree has not been issued, changing the name
of the Chamber of Deputies to that of the " Bed-Chamber of Deputies,"
and ordering that in future each member, upon his entrance, shall be
Presidentially provided with a nightcap.
love in a bottle.
We see a Tradesman is advertising a new Spirit, called " The Spirit
of Love." We don't know what kind of Spirit this may be, but we
imagine it must be Parfait Amour.
The Fate of all Umbrellas.
The Umbrella seems to be a doomed article. Every man's hand,
apparently, is raised against it. Its fate is uncertain enough in
England ; but in Germany it seems to be much worse. The Germans
must be the greatest robbers of Umbrellas in the world; for the
Umbrella-makers themselves, gravely tell us in their advertisements
"The German(s) Steel Umbrellas."
SHORT-HAND REPORT OP MR. DISRAELl's budget speech.
" Sir,—For the year 1853,1 beg leave to say Ditto to Sir Charles
Wood for 1852."
and his great fat double chin had not the least little atom of whiskers;
and he invariably wore a white cravat, very tight, so that he always
looked hot; and being stout, and wearing a dress coat, and everything
else of black (except his Berlin gloves), he resembled an undertaker
rejoicing in a good business. But papa has brought home much more
hideous men, who have gone away leaving me perfectly in love with
them. There was a coarseness of expression about the Reverend
Mr. Ichabod's face, which, I suppose, made it so disagreeable. He
was a pushing, prosperous person, and his flocks used to make a great
deal of him, and present him with silver services, and new gowns, and
portraits of himself; but he deserted them without the least compunc-
tion, the moment anything better offered.
Mb. Blare had been staying at Brighton, and had called several
times, but, until the morning I speak of, we had been out. I was
near the window, feeding my canary birds, and wondering whether dear
Mr. Kidd ever went out as private tutor to teach the darling things the
feats he describes so delightfully, as, if so, I said I would make papaengage
him for mine. Mr. Blare came to the door, and saw me as he rang, and
he quite walked over the servant, rebuking the poor girl for falsehood in
trying to say " not at home." I was fairly caught, for I had let my birds
out, and I was afraid to leave them, or I should have run away.
" Ah, Miss Violet !" he said, marching into the room, his thick
boots creaking dreadfully. And stalking up to me, he frightened my
poor birds so, that they flew round and round the room, until one fell
down in the dust behind the looking-glass, and the other dashed
out into the hall, and half stunned itself against the window. I was
so angry !
" Here," he said, sitting himself down quite composedly (I wished
the light chair had crunched under him), "here, my dear young lady,
you behold an illustration of our depraved nature."
I looked at him, and felt quite inclined to agree with him. For I
always disliked him, as I am afraid what I have said will have dis-
covered. But while my poor bird was scratching, and fluttering, and
chirping in dismay behind the glass, I almost hated the Reverend
Ichabod.
" Thus," he continued, " we all act, like those silly and foolish birds."
" They are neither silly nor foolish, Mr. Blare," I said (I fear, quite
rudely), " but they know their friends, and dislike strangers." And I
tried to coax poor little Jujube from his cranny; and the little thing,
knowing my voice, was endeavouring to extricate himself, when
Mr. Blare, who had been looking at me impatiently, snatched up his
great thick cotton umbrella, and actually thrust it in between the wall
and the glass, to " poke the bird towards me," as he said. I was so
astonished at anybody thinking of such a thing, that I could hardly cry
out, and Mr. Blare, with a sort of grin, would certainly have killed
poor Jujube, or hurt him dreadfully, when, I am delighted to say, the
force of the great thick umbrella was too much for the fastenings which
held the glass, and down came the glass itself upon the fender, with a
smash that sent it into a thousand pieces. Poor Jujube flew to his
cage, and, dusty as he was, began to chirrup out his gratitude at being
delivered; while there stood the Reverend Ichabod Blare, with his
umbrella in his hand, and his moutb open. I could not help laughing,
startled as I was, to see his dismay.
" A bad omen, Mr. Blare," I said, " to break a looking-glass ! Ill
luck for seven years to come—at least, so my old nurse taught me."
But he would not laugh, and gave such a savage look at poor Jujube,
who was cleaning his wings, and chirping in exultation, that I was quite
glad I was there to protect the poor little creature. It was clear that
the horrid man thought he should have to pay the lodging-keeper for the
glass; as if papa would have heard of such a thing.
A Monster Sweep.
Op all the Sweeps that from time immemorial have knocked their
sooty implements together on the First of May, surely no noise ever
equalled that made by the destruction of the Crystal Palace, which com-
menced on that day. Such a set of Sweeps were never engaged on
such dirty work before; and the Parliament which ordered the beau-
tiful building to be swept away, proved itself, by flying so directly in
the face of the country, to be the Greatest Sweep that ever existed.
We hope when the elections come on, that the people will recollect that
the Sweep in question was a " Derby Sweep."
What will you let me have this Borough for?
Walpole said, " Every man has his price." We don't know about
every man, but it would seem from what the immaculate Coppock says,
that "Every Borough has its price." And as a general election is
coming on, we would advise him, with his experience, to start the
publication of a new weekly paper, to be called, " The Borough
Price List."
. The Greatest Objection to the Income-Tax.—The Income-Tax
is an insult to the national understanding. It is taxing the people with
inconsistency.
GOING THE WHOLE LAMB; OR, TOO MUCH OF A
GOOD THING.
How strange that the very same men who, last Session,
Tried to make us put up with the papal aggression,
Have been working as hard, on a recent occasion,
To prevent all precaution 'gainst foreign invasion!
Do they fancy that there's too much pride in the nation,
And think it requires a slight humiliation ?
Are their souls so to mercantile objects restricted,
That they care not what shame on their country's inflicted ?
Or—really they quite make one's faith in them waver—
Are they bidding for certain constituents' favour ?
Is their line only one of political scheming,
Are they, wide awake, canting, or honestly dreaming ?
Their very extremely forbearing opinions,
In practice, would quickly enslave these dominions;
Their objection to fight—though defensive the battle—
Would degrade us, ere long, into mere servile cattle.
We agree with these gentlemen, freely and fully,
That the doughty John Bull must no more play John Bully ;
But if they must needs make a farther endeavour,
To bring down John Bull to John Ox—we cry, Never !
A MILITIA BILL IN 1952.
oubtless, could we peep another century
into futurity, perhaps, unless the Mil-
lennium is to arrive before that, we might
witness, in progress through the House
of Commons, a bill for the further Im-
provement of the National Defences.
In consequence of the immense progress
that science will have made by that time,
the debate foreshown to us, would pro-
bably evince, that some curious changes
had taken place in our munitions. One
Honourable Member would be heard
moving for returns of the acids employed
in maintaining the galvanic batteries
along the coast in an efficient state; and
another arguing that the regular steam
army was infinitely preferable to a
Militia, composed of engines taken from
behind the counter and the plough's
tail. A third, perhaps, would then be
found repudiating all recourse to phy-
sical dynamic machines; and declaring his conviction that the strongest
horse-power might be effectually resisted by the silent will, and the
quiet force of opinion.
A Hint to the Prince President.
Considering that the French Senators are expressly required to
legislate with their eyes shut, and on no account permitted to appear in
what an electro-biologist would term " a wakeful state," we really
almost wonder that a decree has not been issued, changing the name
of the Chamber of Deputies to that of the " Bed-Chamber of Deputies,"
and ordering that in future each member, upon his entrance, shall be
Presidentially provided with a nightcap.
love in a bottle.
We see a Tradesman is advertising a new Spirit, called " The Spirit
of Love." We don't know what kind of Spirit this may be, but we
imagine it must be Parfait Amour.
The Fate of all Umbrellas.
The Umbrella seems to be a doomed article. Every man's hand,
apparently, is raised against it. Its fate is uncertain enough in
England ; but in Germany it seems to be much worse. The Germans
must be the greatest robbers of Umbrellas in the world; for the
Umbrella-makers themselves, gravely tell us in their advertisements
"The German(s) Steel Umbrellas."
SHORT-HAND REPORT OP MR. DISRAELl's budget speech.
" Sir,—For the year 1853,1 beg leave to say Ditto to Sir Charles
Wood for 1852."