DOI issue:
July to December, 1853
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16612#0198
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
187
LETTERS FROM THE BOSPHORUS.
Me. William Taylor, of Her Majesty’s Bomb, the Thunder, to Mrs. William
Taylor of Wajyping Wall.
ell, u see, Polly", ve
wos a getting sicker
and sicker of lyin’ in
Besicker Bay, wen ve
got our sailin’ borders,
an cum liere has fast
has we could drive to
help the Muzzlehims.
And a rummer lot than
them Muzzlehims, hi
never set hies on. Por
has soon has hever we
cum’d to a hanker, a
feller called a Capstan
Bashy, wich is all as
one as our Port had-
miral, cums on bord
to pay his respex to
our capting. And, hin-
stead of sayin ‘ How
air yer, old Boy ? ’ or
‘ Tip us yer daddies
my buck,’ as a gentle-
man would, he makes
a bob and stix his
great beerd out, and he sez, sez he / Sally may lick ’em.’ Veil, in coorse you ’ll
think he got mast-edded for his himperence, but no, he warn’t, for our capting
were perwented by resins of state, like the tiger has couldn’t get his por thro. the
bars of his cage to curry the monkey’s hide; so the captin honely looked sivvil
and sez, quite cheerful like, ‘Lick ’em Sally’ wich wos taint a mouse with tellin
the Turk to lick ’em hisself. An then wun can’t be hangry with the poor
hignorant fellers as nose no better than to call their hone hemperor a, Paddyshaw,
when he haint a Hirishman, nor his name haint Shaw. And their primeer, who is
wun Wretched Pashur, they calls a Grand Wheezy, and all their chief hossifers
they calls Agurs, so you see they’ve grate rurne for himprovement in the names
they gives peepul. Howsumever their hall werry hot for fitin just now, and goes
about braggin theyr has brave has Boostum, who was a grate cock of the walk
in these parts formerly. Their reglar barmy they calls Nishan, wich I spose is
tire short for hammunishan, as I hear their werry strong in . the hartillery line.
But they puts most faith in a lot of hold womencalled. High. Ma’ams, which
is their parsons, and a parcel of yung fellers called Softers, wich ansers to hour
Hoxfora coves, and hever so many of these High Ma’ams and Softers air goin to
jine the army, and fite for their profit, as they sez, from wich I conclude they gets
good pay. And if theyr honely harf as plucky as our Chaplin, they may purtect
the Golden Home, as they calls this place, werry well. But has for us, our fear
is that if they thrashes the Rooshans, the Rooshans wont come here, an then
we shant get no fitin. Howsumdever we kepes up our spirits, and opes for the
best, so no more at present from your luvin husband,
“ B. Taylor.”
EORTUNE-TELLERS EOR NATIONS.
Wrhat the Edinburgh Review—in a highly superior article on “ Church Parties”
—calls the “ Prophetic Press,” is now in a state of violent eruption. The volcano
in labour, however, brings forth only the bottle of smoke. You can hardly take
up your morning paper without being invited, in the advertising columns, by
some half-dozen several expositors, to take so many new walks into futurity. The
Overthrow of the Papacy, the Destruction of the Ottoman Empire, the Battle
of Armageddon, the Millennium, demand your attention together with the last
novel, and Soyer’s Pantropheon, and the Propriety of Legalising Marriage with a
Wife’s Sister. It is a remarkable circumstance that the gentlemen who announce
these awful things, so calculated to wean the soul from all earthly solicitudes, do
not omit to affix prices to their productions. Like common Gipsies, these reve-
rend Romany require their hands to be crossed with silver. This shows that whdst
they direct the attention of others to future certainties, they give no small share
of their own to the main chance. On that account we hesitate to compare
them to Mother Shipton, who wras an old woman, or to Nixon, who was an
idiot. Otherwise we should regard them as common asses, pretending to rank
with the ass of Balaam.
French, Italian, German, without a Master, are studies not verv generally
successful; and the language of prophecy must be rather more difficult, inde-
pendently of proper direction. Those who are inclined to entertain the idea that
Mr. Stiggins and Mr. Ciiadband are illuminated expositors of Daniel and the
Apocalypse had better pay a visit to Mr. Wyld’s Great Globe, to acquire, if
possible, some enlargement of the views of the world and the destinies of the
huinan race. The patrons of the “ Prophetic Press ” will find it best to await that
explanation of prophecy which is afforded by its fulfilment; but they will have
to wait a long time for any such thing in rel’erence to the commentaries of
Chadband and Stiggins.
To infer the future from the past, however, is to pro-
phesy with some security. At all crises of the world’s
history have Chadbands and Stigginses applied their
prophetic wisdom to the question of the day. At all
those times they have made money—and mistakes. On
all similar occasions in future will they, in precisely the
same manner, succeed, and—fail.
DOLOURS OP ST. DUNSTAN’S IN THE WEST.
Ye citizens of London, who some filial pity feel
For all her noble monuments, give ear to our appeal:
Leave meaner things, the strife of kings, of Stjltan and of
Czar,
And think of perils nearer home—the fate of Temple Bar.
Mad lev’llers shake their axes o’er our venerable gate—
The City’s porch, where monarchs proud are told that they
must wait:
To make more space for dingy dray, for omnibus and car.
The revolutionary cry is “ Down with Temple Bar ! ”
Utilitarians, stem and cold, who argue, like the goose,
That ev’ry thing is useless which is not of any use.
Bethink you what our plight will be in times of civil jar:—
Where shall we stick our rebels’ heads if we’ve no Temple
Bar?
And if our relics, one by one, are thus to disappear.
What shall we have but narrow lanes to tempt a visit here ?
How blank and pale will be their cheek, when pilgrims from
afar
Shall pace Fleet Street, with pious feet, and see no Temple
Bar!
The doom of Smithfield market’s sealed;—gone is its ancient
fair;
And soon the pomp of Lord Mayor’s show may vanish into
air;
Blackfriar’s Bridge, pure Buddie Dock, the Monument,
and, ah!
Ev’n Gog and Magog are not safe—then save poor Temple
Bar.
A PEACEFUL SOLICITOR.
A Guildford and guileless solicitor “ and a Member of
the Peace Society,” denounces all war as un-Christian.
War at no price ! He says, the soldier disobeys the law
of Christianity by killing a man. How about the attorney ?
Does he obey the Christian law by helping to lock a man
up ? As Christians, should we not be of charity and
forgiveness all compact ? Does the solicitor make out his
bill of costs according to the behest of the Prince of Peace ?
Would our solicitor act in a cause of action for unprovoked
and brutal assault ? Hardly, if he denounces “ the
soldier’s bloody calling ” on every occasion. What is
war but an action?—Nicholas v. Abdul-Medjld. The
Cossack attacks the Turk, and the Turk, whipping out
his scimetar, shaves off the Cossack’s head. What is this
but an action—the Cossack, for the first assault, paying-
righteous costs ?
Now, if the enemy were to march to Guildford, would
“A Solicitor and a Member of the Peace Society” open
his door to the intruders, saying—“ Enter ye, who are
heavy laden with ball-cartridge ? ”
Does our Solicitor give advice gratis against going to
law; even as benevolent doctors give advice against
disease ?
Music, Malt, and Hops.
Messrs. Bass and Co., the teetotallers will be glad to
hear, have published a circular in the name ot the Burton
Pale Ale Brewers, announcing the intention of raising the
price of their beer by 6s. per cask. This concert among
the Brewers, with a Bass for leader, exhibits some novelties
in harmony. The Bass rises instead of descending in the
scale of price, and by thus increasing in height, will,
strange to say, reach up to Double Bass. One more step
will raise it to Treble Bass • but that will be a contra^
diction in terms, and absolutely ridiculous.
A Soporific.—Why
HR--O O- 1
187
LETTERS FROM THE BOSPHORUS.
Me. William Taylor, of Her Majesty’s Bomb, the Thunder, to Mrs. William
Taylor of Wajyping Wall.
ell, u see, Polly", ve
wos a getting sicker
and sicker of lyin’ in
Besicker Bay, wen ve
got our sailin’ borders,
an cum liere has fast
has we could drive to
help the Muzzlehims.
And a rummer lot than
them Muzzlehims, hi
never set hies on. Por
has soon has hever we
cum’d to a hanker, a
feller called a Capstan
Bashy, wich is all as
one as our Port had-
miral, cums on bord
to pay his respex to
our capting. And, hin-
stead of sayin ‘ How
air yer, old Boy ? ’ or
‘ Tip us yer daddies
my buck,’ as a gentle-
man would, he makes
a bob and stix his
great beerd out, and he sez, sez he / Sally may lick ’em.’ Veil, in coorse you ’ll
think he got mast-edded for his himperence, but no, he warn’t, for our capting
were perwented by resins of state, like the tiger has couldn’t get his por thro. the
bars of his cage to curry the monkey’s hide; so the captin honely looked sivvil
and sez, quite cheerful like, ‘Lick ’em Sally’ wich wos taint a mouse with tellin
the Turk to lick ’em hisself. An then wun can’t be hangry with the poor
hignorant fellers as nose no better than to call their hone hemperor a, Paddyshaw,
when he haint a Hirishman, nor his name haint Shaw. And their primeer, who is
wun Wretched Pashur, they calls a Grand Wheezy, and all their chief hossifers
they calls Agurs, so you see they’ve grate rurne for himprovement in the names
they gives peepul. Howsumever their hall werry hot for fitin just now, and goes
about braggin theyr has brave has Boostum, who was a grate cock of the walk
in these parts formerly. Their reglar barmy they calls Nishan, wich I spose is
tire short for hammunishan, as I hear their werry strong in . the hartillery line.
But they puts most faith in a lot of hold womencalled. High. Ma’ams, which
is their parsons, and a parcel of yung fellers called Softers, wich ansers to hour
Hoxfora coves, and hever so many of these High Ma’ams and Softers air goin to
jine the army, and fite for their profit, as they sez, from wich I conclude they gets
good pay. And if theyr honely harf as plucky as our Chaplin, they may purtect
the Golden Home, as they calls this place, werry well. But has for us, our fear
is that if they thrashes the Rooshans, the Rooshans wont come here, an then
we shant get no fitin. Howsumdever we kepes up our spirits, and opes for the
best, so no more at present from your luvin husband,
“ B. Taylor.”
EORTUNE-TELLERS EOR NATIONS.
Wrhat the Edinburgh Review—in a highly superior article on “ Church Parties”
—calls the “ Prophetic Press,” is now in a state of violent eruption. The volcano
in labour, however, brings forth only the bottle of smoke. You can hardly take
up your morning paper without being invited, in the advertising columns, by
some half-dozen several expositors, to take so many new walks into futurity. The
Overthrow of the Papacy, the Destruction of the Ottoman Empire, the Battle
of Armageddon, the Millennium, demand your attention together with the last
novel, and Soyer’s Pantropheon, and the Propriety of Legalising Marriage with a
Wife’s Sister. It is a remarkable circumstance that the gentlemen who announce
these awful things, so calculated to wean the soul from all earthly solicitudes, do
not omit to affix prices to their productions. Like common Gipsies, these reve-
rend Romany require their hands to be crossed with silver. This shows that whdst
they direct the attention of others to future certainties, they give no small share
of their own to the main chance. On that account we hesitate to compare
them to Mother Shipton, who wras an old woman, or to Nixon, who was an
idiot. Otherwise we should regard them as common asses, pretending to rank
with the ass of Balaam.
French, Italian, German, without a Master, are studies not verv generally
successful; and the language of prophecy must be rather more difficult, inde-
pendently of proper direction. Those who are inclined to entertain the idea that
Mr. Stiggins and Mr. Ciiadband are illuminated expositors of Daniel and the
Apocalypse had better pay a visit to Mr. Wyld’s Great Globe, to acquire, if
possible, some enlargement of the views of the world and the destinies of the
huinan race. The patrons of the “ Prophetic Press ” will find it best to await that
explanation of prophecy which is afforded by its fulfilment; but they will have
to wait a long time for any such thing in rel’erence to the commentaries of
Chadband and Stiggins.
To infer the future from the past, however, is to pro-
phesy with some security. At all crises of the world’s
history have Chadbands and Stigginses applied their
prophetic wisdom to the question of the day. At all
those times they have made money—and mistakes. On
all similar occasions in future will they, in precisely the
same manner, succeed, and—fail.
DOLOURS OP ST. DUNSTAN’S IN THE WEST.
Ye citizens of London, who some filial pity feel
For all her noble monuments, give ear to our appeal:
Leave meaner things, the strife of kings, of Stjltan and of
Czar,
And think of perils nearer home—the fate of Temple Bar.
Mad lev’llers shake their axes o’er our venerable gate—
The City’s porch, where monarchs proud are told that they
must wait:
To make more space for dingy dray, for omnibus and car.
The revolutionary cry is “ Down with Temple Bar ! ”
Utilitarians, stem and cold, who argue, like the goose,
That ev’ry thing is useless which is not of any use.
Bethink you what our plight will be in times of civil jar:—
Where shall we stick our rebels’ heads if we’ve no Temple
Bar?
And if our relics, one by one, are thus to disappear.
What shall we have but narrow lanes to tempt a visit here ?
How blank and pale will be their cheek, when pilgrims from
afar
Shall pace Fleet Street, with pious feet, and see no Temple
Bar!
The doom of Smithfield market’s sealed;—gone is its ancient
fair;
And soon the pomp of Lord Mayor’s show may vanish into
air;
Blackfriar’s Bridge, pure Buddie Dock, the Monument,
and, ah!
Ev’n Gog and Magog are not safe—then save poor Temple
Bar.
A PEACEFUL SOLICITOR.
A Guildford and guileless solicitor “ and a Member of
the Peace Society,” denounces all war as un-Christian.
War at no price ! He says, the soldier disobeys the law
of Christianity by killing a man. How about the attorney ?
Does he obey the Christian law by helping to lock a man
up ? As Christians, should we not be of charity and
forgiveness all compact ? Does the solicitor make out his
bill of costs according to the behest of the Prince of Peace ?
Would our solicitor act in a cause of action for unprovoked
and brutal assault ? Hardly, if he denounces “ the
soldier’s bloody calling ” on every occasion. What is
war but an action?—Nicholas v. Abdul-Medjld. The
Cossack attacks the Turk, and the Turk, whipping out
his scimetar, shaves off the Cossack’s head. What is this
but an action—the Cossack, for the first assault, paying-
righteous costs ?
Now, if the enemy were to march to Guildford, would
“A Solicitor and a Member of the Peace Society” open
his door to the intruders, saying—“ Enter ye, who are
heavy laden with ball-cartridge ? ”
Does our Solicitor give advice gratis against going to
law; even as benevolent doctors give advice against
disease ?
Music, Malt, and Hops.
Messrs. Bass and Co., the teetotallers will be glad to
hear, have published a circular in the name ot the Burton
Pale Ale Brewers, announcing the intention of raising the
price of their beer by 6s. per cask. This concert among
the Brewers, with a Bass for leader, exhibits some novelties
in harmony. The Bass rises instead of descending in the
scale of price, and by thus increasing in height, will,
strange to say, reach up to Double Bass. One more step
will raise it to Treble Bass • but that will be a contra^
diction in terms, and absolutely ridiculous.
A Soporific.—Why
HR--O O- 1