DOI Heft:
Volume XXVI
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16613#0011
4
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
OUR DEAR OLD PATERFAMILIAS TAKES HIS OFFSPRING TO SEE THE PANTOMIME. UNFORTUNATELY, “ THE BoADS ” (AS THE CABMAN
says) “is so Orribul bad and Slippy,” that he is obliged to walk with his Darlings the greater part of the
WAY HOME.
THE DOMESTIC REFORMER;
OK, HOW MR. PATERFAMILIAS MADE HOME HAPPY.
The Action passes in the Villa of Mr. Paterfamilias,
in the neighbourhood of London.
DRAMATIS PERSONAS.
Mb. Paterfamilias, (a man of an inquiring, but by no means robust mind, addicted to
making swans of all Ms geese, with a strong scent for mares' nests, and an uncon-
querable habit of writing to the “ Times!')
Mrs. Paterfamilias (a lady whose most earnest wish is “for peace and quietness,” but
who looks up to Mr. P. as the impersonation of all that is profound in science, and
elevated in public spirit).
Miss 1., Miss Laura, Miss Emily, Miss Matilda, and “ Tot” (young ladies from sweet
twenty-two to chubby six).
Master P., Master George. Master Henry, Master Newton (young gentlemen
from audacious sixteen to inquiring seven)
Scene 1.—Showing how Mr. P. broke out all of a sudden, after a severe
course of Blue Books, in a determined effort to regulate his house and
household on rational and sanitary principles.
The Drawing-Room of Mr. P.’s Villa. Time-After Dinner.
entrenched in Blue Books at a round table, with a reading-lamp.
Mrs. P. at work. The young ladies variously employed, at Crochet
Berlin Wool, the last New Novel, ffc. Sgc. Master George
attempting to teach a Scotch terrier to walk on his fore legs. MIaster
.Newton (so-called after Sip, Isaac), who is a miniature of his
father, with a great turn for the philosophy of common things, engaged
in a mysterious experiment—with an ounce phial, a glass tube, and a
the table Wa^er’ Wi^ wtiich he is making a surreptitious slop under
JLiss Laura (to Miss Emily, in explanation qf the principles of ha-
crochet pattern). You drop two—count sis—pass four—
Mrs. F. (in an under tone). Hush! my dear. You’d disturb your
iatnei. [A howl from the ill-used and much enduring Scotch terrier.
Miss Bmily. Oh, George ! How can you? —
Mr. P. It’s perfectly impossible to read in this room. George,
give over teasing that dog, will you, Sir.
George. I wasn’t teasing him, Pa. I was only teaching him to walk
like the Clown’s dog at Astley’s. He can nearly do it.
Mr. P. There, my dear; you see the consequence of taking your
family to such places. Their influence is really enough to counteract
all one’s efforts to direct their minds usefully and scientifically.
Mrs. P. I’m sure, my dear, I’m very sorry ; hut at Christmas time,
you know— _ j
Mr. P. (severely). The money expended in a box at the theatre
might be so much better bestowed. Is there not the Polytechnic ?
George (eagerly). Oh ! ain’t it jolly, with the diving bell and the
electrical eel ?
Mr. P. I refer to Du. Bachoffneu’s Chemical Course, George.
George. Well, that’s good fun enough, when he blows himself up,
you know, and makes such stunning nasty smells.
Miss Laura (deprecatingly). Now, George, how can you be so horrid ?
Mr. P. My uear, that boy has not the least turn for science.
Mrs. P. (mildly). Hasn’t he, my dear ? I’m sure I used to think he
would have, he was always so fond of gunpowder.
Mr. P. Happily, our dear Newton is a gifted child.
Master Newton (whose modesty is his least recommendation), les.
Papa, I like science, and 1 know all about latent heat and carbonic
acid gas, and manganese; it’s in my mineral kingdom.
Mr. P. (proudly). That’s a good boy. Here’s sixpence, my dear.
What will you do with it ?
Newton. Buy a graduated scale, papa, for my bottle here. 1 ’m
making a thermometer. [Molds up his apparatus meekly.
George (aside to the young philosopher). Oh—you young humbug—
you know you’ll buy bull’s eyes.
Mr. P. (examining the apparatus with parental interest). What’s
this ? Isn’t it really delightful, my dear, to watch the scientific bent
of this dear child ? What is it, my dear ?
Newton. Well, you see, papa, air expands with heat, and gets lighter,
and, so (here a sly reference to his book), if I insert in this bottle ball
filled with this water—you know—this tube—you know—and put it
before the fire—the air will heat in the bottle, and the water will fall
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
OUR DEAR OLD PATERFAMILIAS TAKES HIS OFFSPRING TO SEE THE PANTOMIME. UNFORTUNATELY, “ THE BoADS ” (AS THE CABMAN
says) “is so Orribul bad and Slippy,” that he is obliged to walk with his Darlings the greater part of the
WAY HOME.
THE DOMESTIC REFORMER;
OK, HOW MR. PATERFAMILIAS MADE HOME HAPPY.
The Action passes in the Villa of Mr. Paterfamilias,
in the neighbourhood of London.
DRAMATIS PERSONAS.
Mb. Paterfamilias, (a man of an inquiring, but by no means robust mind, addicted to
making swans of all Ms geese, with a strong scent for mares' nests, and an uncon-
querable habit of writing to the “ Times!')
Mrs. Paterfamilias (a lady whose most earnest wish is “for peace and quietness,” but
who looks up to Mr. P. as the impersonation of all that is profound in science, and
elevated in public spirit).
Miss 1., Miss Laura, Miss Emily, Miss Matilda, and “ Tot” (young ladies from sweet
twenty-two to chubby six).
Master P., Master George. Master Henry, Master Newton (young gentlemen
from audacious sixteen to inquiring seven)
Scene 1.—Showing how Mr. P. broke out all of a sudden, after a severe
course of Blue Books, in a determined effort to regulate his house and
household on rational and sanitary principles.
The Drawing-Room of Mr. P.’s Villa. Time-After Dinner.
entrenched in Blue Books at a round table, with a reading-lamp.
Mrs. P. at work. The young ladies variously employed, at Crochet
Berlin Wool, the last New Novel, ffc. Sgc. Master George
attempting to teach a Scotch terrier to walk on his fore legs. MIaster
.Newton (so-called after Sip, Isaac), who is a miniature of his
father, with a great turn for the philosophy of common things, engaged
in a mysterious experiment—with an ounce phial, a glass tube, and a
the table Wa^er’ Wi^ wtiich he is making a surreptitious slop under
JLiss Laura (to Miss Emily, in explanation qf the principles of ha-
crochet pattern). You drop two—count sis—pass four—
Mrs. F. (in an under tone). Hush! my dear. You’d disturb your
iatnei. [A howl from the ill-used and much enduring Scotch terrier.
Miss Bmily. Oh, George ! How can you? —
Mr. P. It’s perfectly impossible to read in this room. George,
give over teasing that dog, will you, Sir.
George. I wasn’t teasing him, Pa. I was only teaching him to walk
like the Clown’s dog at Astley’s. He can nearly do it.
Mr. P. There, my dear; you see the consequence of taking your
family to such places. Their influence is really enough to counteract
all one’s efforts to direct their minds usefully and scientifically.
Mrs. P. I’m sure, my dear, I’m very sorry ; hut at Christmas time,
you know— _ j
Mr. P. (severely). The money expended in a box at the theatre
might be so much better bestowed. Is there not the Polytechnic ?
George (eagerly). Oh ! ain’t it jolly, with the diving bell and the
electrical eel ?
Mr. P. I refer to Du. Bachoffneu’s Chemical Course, George.
George. Well, that’s good fun enough, when he blows himself up,
you know, and makes such stunning nasty smells.
Miss Laura (deprecatingly). Now, George, how can you be so horrid ?
Mr. P. My uear, that boy has not the least turn for science.
Mrs. P. (mildly). Hasn’t he, my dear ? I’m sure I used to think he
would have, he was always so fond of gunpowder.
Mr. P. Happily, our dear Newton is a gifted child.
Master Newton (whose modesty is his least recommendation), les.
Papa, I like science, and 1 know all about latent heat and carbonic
acid gas, and manganese; it’s in my mineral kingdom.
Mr. P. (proudly). That’s a good boy. Here’s sixpence, my dear.
What will you do with it ?
Newton. Buy a graduated scale, papa, for my bottle here. 1 ’m
making a thermometer. [Molds up his apparatus meekly.
George (aside to the young philosopher). Oh—you young humbug—
you know you’ll buy bull’s eyes.
Mr. P. (examining the apparatus with parental interest). What’s
this ? Isn’t it really delightful, my dear, to watch the scientific bent
of this dear child ? What is it, my dear ?
Newton. Well, you see, papa, air expands with heat, and gets lighter,
and, so (here a sly reference to his book), if I insert in this bottle ball
filled with this water—you know—this tube—you know—and put it
before the fire—the air will heat in the bottle, and the water will fall