DOI issue:
July to December, 1852
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16610#0136
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
PLEASANT.
Old Acquaintance. '"Ave a Drain, Bill?"
Bus Driver. "Why, yer see, Jim, this 'ere young Hoss has ony bin in 'Arness
once afore, and he's such a beggar to bolt, ten to one if I leave 'lM he 'LIi
be a-runnin' hoff and a-smashin' into 8uthun. Howsever—here {handing reins to
timid passenger), lay hold, Sis, I'LL CHANCE IT ! "
A DISAGREEABLE RATTLE.
Somebody has just been importing from America a batch of six-and-thirty Rattle-snakes.
What may be the object of this consignment we cannot easily guess, unless it be intended
to take advantage of the taste of the British public for all sorts of monstrosities. If audiences
can be attracted in England by exhibitions of danger, it is natural to presume that a
collection of snakes may become extremely popular; and, as the English are often " pleased
with a rattle," they will, a fortiori, be delighted with six-and-thirty Rattle-snakes. A few
days will, perhaps, disclose the use or abuse to which this disgusting consignment is to be
placed; and we are quite prepared to see placards headed, "Come early. Real Rattle-
snakes! attracting our eye in all the principal thoroughfares. Perhaps Madame Some-
body will go up in a balloon, and let herself down from the car by hanging on to the six-
and-thirty Rattle-snakes, clinging to each other's tails—a mode of lowering one's self not
less degrading than some of those which have been recently resorted to.
ANOTHER FRENCH MIRACLE I
Bp Electric Telegraph.
Scarcely has France taken breath—scarcely
has she recovered herself from extacy upon the
tidings of the miracle on the mountain of
Salette, as vouchsafed to two shepherd boys,
than another miracle has occurred in the Tuileries.
As yet, we can only give the merest outline of
the miraculous manifestation, as we have received
it, in solemn brevity, by the electric spark of sub-
marine telegraph.
"Miracle in Paris. Midnight. Gardens of
the Tuileries. Two sentinels—wide-awake.
Suddenly, Napoleon the Great stood before
them in flash of gunpowder. Smelt like myrrh
and frankincense. Napoleon put soldiers
through exercise. Gave both crosses of Legion
of Honour. Pointed in direction of Place Ven-
dome. Said of himself he had been a great
man: but he was only le Petit Caporal to the
Napoleon then in his boots; but he must first
be Emperor. And then Napoleon pointed
towards Notre Dame; and then his little hat
changed to crown—crown of France—and then
iron crown of Italy.
" Napoleon said France would never be happy
until his nephew was Emperor.
" Saying this, N apoleon slowly rose from the
eartb, and hovered over one particular chesnut
t ree : the heels of his boots kicking the branches.
He then disappeared.
"The sentinels both speak of the apparition,
but one flatly contradicts the other; which the
Archbishop of Paris declares to be a miraculous
evidence of their truth.
" One fact, however, is certain. The chesnut
tree, kicked by Napoleon, is covered with a
second crop of chesnuts.
" Five hundred priests are picking them; and
still they grow. Every chesnut marked with V.
E. N.—of course Vive Napoleon, Empereur.
"A basket of these chesnuts—all the clergy ot
Paris with their robes hastily put on—has been
solemnly carried to Notre Dame. Prayer—at
high service—will be laid on.
" The profligacy of certain infidel republicans
sneers at the solemn fact of the chesnuts, and
cries ' Catspaw.'"
The Beauty of Contrast.
Would a negro's teeth look so very white
were his skin not so very black ?
Would Diana be so very demure were not
Venus so very skittish ?
Would Thersites be such a poltroon were
not Achilles such a hero ?
Finally,—would the Lord Chancellor of the
Tories, the promoted Sugden, look in his ermine
so very white as a Chancery reformer, were not
the promoted Stuart so very black as the sup-
porter of all Chancery abuse? If Lord St.
Leonards be a Chancery Virtue, he is thrown
into the best contrast» when Mr. Stuart is
made Chancery Vice.
Father Thames's Epitaph.
Infection o'er the town I bore,
Commissions were in vain :
The Times might storm—I braved reform—
And died a Tidal Drain.
Rulers ot the Railways.
It is high time that a change should take
place in the constitution of our Railway Boards
of Directors, the individuals at present com-
posing them having their minds by far too
narrowly limited to commercial views : so much
80, that their only notion of their functions as
governing bodies appears to be, that of ruling
lines for the mirpose of adding up sums.
PLEASANT.
Old Acquaintance. '"Ave a Drain, Bill?"
Bus Driver. "Why, yer see, Jim, this 'ere young Hoss has ony bin in 'Arness
once afore, and he's such a beggar to bolt, ten to one if I leave 'lM he 'LIi
be a-runnin' hoff and a-smashin' into 8uthun. Howsever—here {handing reins to
timid passenger), lay hold, Sis, I'LL CHANCE IT ! "
A DISAGREEABLE RATTLE.
Somebody has just been importing from America a batch of six-and-thirty Rattle-snakes.
What may be the object of this consignment we cannot easily guess, unless it be intended
to take advantage of the taste of the British public for all sorts of monstrosities. If audiences
can be attracted in England by exhibitions of danger, it is natural to presume that a
collection of snakes may become extremely popular; and, as the English are often " pleased
with a rattle," they will, a fortiori, be delighted with six-and-thirty Rattle-snakes. A few
days will, perhaps, disclose the use or abuse to which this disgusting consignment is to be
placed; and we are quite prepared to see placards headed, "Come early. Real Rattle-
snakes! attracting our eye in all the principal thoroughfares. Perhaps Madame Some-
body will go up in a balloon, and let herself down from the car by hanging on to the six-
and-thirty Rattle-snakes, clinging to each other's tails—a mode of lowering one's self not
less degrading than some of those which have been recently resorted to.
ANOTHER FRENCH MIRACLE I
Bp Electric Telegraph.
Scarcely has France taken breath—scarcely
has she recovered herself from extacy upon the
tidings of the miracle on the mountain of
Salette, as vouchsafed to two shepherd boys,
than another miracle has occurred in the Tuileries.
As yet, we can only give the merest outline of
the miraculous manifestation, as we have received
it, in solemn brevity, by the electric spark of sub-
marine telegraph.
"Miracle in Paris. Midnight. Gardens of
the Tuileries. Two sentinels—wide-awake.
Suddenly, Napoleon the Great stood before
them in flash of gunpowder. Smelt like myrrh
and frankincense. Napoleon put soldiers
through exercise. Gave both crosses of Legion
of Honour. Pointed in direction of Place Ven-
dome. Said of himself he had been a great
man: but he was only le Petit Caporal to the
Napoleon then in his boots; but he must first
be Emperor. And then Napoleon pointed
towards Notre Dame; and then his little hat
changed to crown—crown of France—and then
iron crown of Italy.
" Napoleon said France would never be happy
until his nephew was Emperor.
" Saying this, N apoleon slowly rose from the
eartb, and hovered over one particular chesnut
t ree : the heels of his boots kicking the branches.
He then disappeared.
"The sentinels both speak of the apparition,
but one flatly contradicts the other; which the
Archbishop of Paris declares to be a miraculous
evidence of their truth.
" One fact, however, is certain. The chesnut
tree, kicked by Napoleon, is covered with a
second crop of chesnuts.
" Five hundred priests are picking them; and
still they grow. Every chesnut marked with V.
E. N.—of course Vive Napoleon, Empereur.
"A basket of these chesnuts—all the clergy ot
Paris with their robes hastily put on—has been
solemnly carried to Notre Dame. Prayer—at
high service—will be laid on.
" The profligacy of certain infidel republicans
sneers at the solemn fact of the chesnuts, and
cries ' Catspaw.'"
The Beauty of Contrast.
Would a negro's teeth look so very white
were his skin not so very black ?
Would Diana be so very demure were not
Venus so very skittish ?
Would Thersites be such a poltroon were
not Achilles such a hero ?
Finally,—would the Lord Chancellor of the
Tories, the promoted Sugden, look in his ermine
so very white as a Chancery reformer, were not
the promoted Stuart so very black as the sup-
porter of all Chancery abuse? If Lord St.
Leonards be a Chancery Virtue, he is thrown
into the best contrast» when Mr. Stuart is
made Chancery Vice.
Father Thames's Epitaph.
Infection o'er the town I bore,
Commissions were in vain :
The Times might storm—I braved reform—
And died a Tidal Drain.
Rulers ot the Railways.
It is high time that a change should take
place in the constitution of our Railway Boards
of Directors, the individuals at present com-
posing them having their minds by far too
narrowly limited to commercial views : so much
80, that their only notion of their functions as
governing bodies appears to be, that of ruling
lines for the mirpose of adding up sums.