DOI issue:
September 8, 1855
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16616#0111
S ETTEMBKR 8, 1855.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
99
Please'm, here's Fido been a rollin' of himself int the
' Ketch 'em alive, 0 !' "
ENGLISH CONVERSATION.
Mr. Punch has read in some book or other, that "Conversation is a
difficult Art." Like most things in most books (except a series of
volumes of which this is the twenty-ninth) the statement is ridiculous.
Conversation is perfectly easy. In England, especially, the_ art is
carried to the utmost pitch of perfection. You have only to listen to
what takes place in the omnibus, or on the steamboat, or in the next
box at the opera or eating-house, or as you come home from church, or
in the railway train, or in any other place where people talk publicly,
to be convinced that English people talk remarkably well—that their
conversation is easy, precise, pointed, full of information, instructive
Miss Robinson {eagerly). Especially when they approach his box at
the same moment.
Mr Brown {delighted at her quickness'). Precisely so—precisely so.
Miss Jones {jealous of her friend's laurels). Of course, if a person
deposits the money for one ticket only, he is not likely to mistake.
Mr. Brown {considers this problem). No—no. At least he is less
likely to do so.
Miss Robinson {evidently an administrative intellect). Except that
sometimes in a party everybody agrees to pay for themselves.
Mr. Brown. Yes, and that avoids confusion. Besides, in that case,
it, would not matter what he thought, because he would give but one
j ticket io the person presenting the money, you see.
Both Ladies {crushed by the masculine grasp of the subject). Just so-
just so. {They bump Lambeth Bier.
Mr. Brown. I did not for a moment coMsider that he meant to defraud.
Miss Jones. O, certainly not.
Miss Robinson. I should think he was an honest person.
Mr. Brown. He looks so, but then we mustn't judge by looks, ladies,
1 ha ! ha! [They all laugh.
Miss Robinson {timidly). But—but, it is a place of trust, I think I
have heard that the men are obliged to give—securities—is that the word.
Mr. Brown. I have no doubt they do. I say, most distinctly, that
they ought to do so. I say so as a man of business. Were this Com-
pany under my direction, I should feel it my duty; and most assuredly
one from which I should not be tempted to swerve, to demand security
from any person who received the Company's money.
[The Ladies muse over this statement—perhaps think what worlds of
other Companies are under Mr. B.'s direction. They bump
Westminster Pier.
Miss Robinson {whose subtle brain is perfectly Gladstonian). lie did
not like to give me the three-penny piece, at first, though.
Mr. Brown. Few people like parting with money. Ha! ha!
Miss Jones. True. Yet what is the use of money, unless spent ?
Miss Robinson. Money is the root of all evil, they say.
Mr. Brown. Still it makes the mare go. Ha! ha !
[Great fun for some minutes.
Miss Robinson {bent on the solution of her new problem). But his trying
to keep back the three-penny piece would not show that he was dis-
honest towards his employers, but only to the public.
Mr. Broicn {solemnly). My dear lady, I have always remarked, in
my progress through life that— {They bu/up Hungerford Pier). Dear me,
there is always a mess at this pier. O, all right. I was going to say,
that I have always remarked, in my progress through life, that a person
but not pedantic, lively but not flippant, bold but not audacious, serious I who will be dishonesty towards one person will be so towards another
but not didactic, and a great many other things but not a great many
ottier things, and, in short, that the British Public talks admirably.
Eager for the honour of his native land, Mr. Punch has been taking
notes of a good deal of Conversation which has lately reached his
immortal ears. And in proof of the justness of his eulogium, he
subjoins a specimen of a brilliant dialogue which occupied and amused
the estimable individuals who delivered it, all the way from the Nine
Elms Pier to Blackfriars Bridge. He took it down in short hand, and
his notes may be seen on application at the publisher's.
Scene—After-Beck of the " Bride " Steamer.
Enter, embarking from the Pier, Mr. Brown, a well-dressed, florid, fussy,
pursy lady's man, of'middle age, and some rotundity; Miss Jones,
a highly-dressed spinster, of a certain age, with rather a made voice
and simper to match, and her friend, Miss Bobinson, of the same
pattern. The ladies tcere unacquainted with the gentleman, but they
met at tJie pay-place, and the plot of the drama is that the man who
gives the tickets thought for a moment that the three were one party.
Miss Jones {determined to go in for honours). Certainly—
Miss Robinson {forestalling her friend). Because there is nothing
more to make a person honest in one case than in another.
Mr. Brown. Precisely. Except the fear of being found out. Ha! ba!
Miss Jones {who has something in her, after all). Eear of detection is a
low motive to deter from the commission of wrong.
Mr. Broicn. A'ery just, very just. It is so.
Miss Robinson {rather a failure this time). Persons should know their
duty, and do it.
Mr. Brown. Very true, very true. So they should.
Miss Jones {pursuing her advantage). But if everybody did what they
ought to do—
Mr. Brown {the masculine vigour re-asserting itself). We should not
want those majestic buildings to remind us of what is proper and right.
[Points to St. Paul's, as they bump Waterloo Pier. The Ladies gaze
upon the Cathedral, as if seeing it for the first time in a new light.
Miss Jones {giving way to her enthusiasm). It is indeed a fine structure.
Miss Robinson {devotional feeling having overcome her rivalry). Is ic
Mr. Brown {bustling aft, and smiling). Ab, ha! Ha, ah ! [ Waits. \ mt/r £nd ho^ wel1 i°\Cim see ll lrom ll}Q "vera
Miss Jones {following). Hee-bee-liee. [Takes her seat. j Mr. Brown. li;J&s^n}}\ y°u acre aT,are' by SlK Christopher Wren.
Miss Robinson {fainter). Hee-hee. [Takes her's.' Both Ladies {thankfully). O Sir Christopher Wken.
Mr Brown Ha' Ha ' ' Miss dones. I afwavs torget the name.
[The Ladies being seated, Mr. Brown sits. They all smile for Miss Robinson I ihink of a little bird, but then I forget winch bird.
some time Mr. Brown {Jacetiously). Perhaps, it the man had kept the three-
Mr. Brown {with a more subdued laugh). Ah-ha! j PenQy Piece>; w2ul7dllave sPent j* Pay^,to 8° in a£d ?*• Paul's.
Miss Robinson {volcamcally). Hee-hee—hee-hes-hee. I „ L7^I^ ar0eMw^,unhli^6u^£la^uin Pier.
\jSoat moces 0ff Mr. Brown. Ha! Ha ! I wish you good morning, ladies. I am
Mr. Brown. I am bound {emphatically, and with action) to say, ladies, g0'7^,!°/e|'. 011t here,
that I do not think he meant, to be impertinent. ' Both Ladies Good, morning . ■
Both Ladies. O dear no ! 0 dear no. i cMr- Brown (as he asfmds the pier). Very nice, lady-like women-lull
Brown. Mistakes will occur, you know. of intellect and appreciation. [Exit.
Both Ladies. Just so, just so. 1 . fhss Jon™.- What a very well-informed man, dear. Evidently an
Mr. Brown. You are aware that he must see a great many persons in ^ftoeotial City merchant. _
the course of the dav * Robinson. Or banker, perhaps—ins manner is so superior.
Miss Jones {thoughtfully). I suppose he must. tThe "Bride " proceeds on her perilous way.
Mr. Brown. Yes. And some of these persons come alone, while ------------
others come, perhaps two, perhaps three, perhaps even more together, i ,, . ..__. m
Miss Robinson {apprehending). h\\ Exactly ! Yes. I The Eight Man m the Right Place.
Mr. Brown. Well then, it is difficult, unless he is told, for him to Mr. Gavan Duffy, Irish Patriot, and Parliamentary flunkey to his
know- whether one person belongs to another's party, or not. Holiness the Pope, has siscuified his intention to transport himself to
Miss Jones. It must be, of course. Australia. Mr. Gavan Duffy is a good judge.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
99
Please'm, here's Fido been a rollin' of himself int the
' Ketch 'em alive, 0 !' "
ENGLISH CONVERSATION.
Mr. Punch has read in some book or other, that "Conversation is a
difficult Art." Like most things in most books (except a series of
volumes of which this is the twenty-ninth) the statement is ridiculous.
Conversation is perfectly easy. In England, especially, the_ art is
carried to the utmost pitch of perfection. You have only to listen to
what takes place in the omnibus, or on the steamboat, or in the next
box at the opera or eating-house, or as you come home from church, or
in the railway train, or in any other place where people talk publicly,
to be convinced that English people talk remarkably well—that their
conversation is easy, precise, pointed, full of information, instructive
Miss Robinson {eagerly). Especially when they approach his box at
the same moment.
Mr Brown {delighted at her quickness'). Precisely so—precisely so.
Miss Jones {jealous of her friend's laurels). Of course, if a person
deposits the money for one ticket only, he is not likely to mistake.
Mr. Brown {considers this problem). No—no. At least he is less
likely to do so.
Miss Robinson {evidently an administrative intellect). Except that
sometimes in a party everybody agrees to pay for themselves.
Mr. Brown. Yes, and that avoids confusion. Besides, in that case,
it, would not matter what he thought, because he would give but one
j ticket io the person presenting the money, you see.
Both Ladies {crushed by the masculine grasp of the subject). Just so-
just so. {They bump Lambeth Bier.
Mr. Brown. I did not for a moment coMsider that he meant to defraud.
Miss Jones. O, certainly not.
Miss Robinson. I should think he was an honest person.
Mr. Brown. He looks so, but then we mustn't judge by looks, ladies,
1 ha ! ha! [They all laugh.
Miss Robinson {timidly). But—but, it is a place of trust, I think I
have heard that the men are obliged to give—securities—is that the word.
Mr. Brown. I have no doubt they do. I say, most distinctly, that
they ought to do so. I say so as a man of business. Were this Com-
pany under my direction, I should feel it my duty; and most assuredly
one from which I should not be tempted to swerve, to demand security
from any person who received the Company's money.
[The Ladies muse over this statement—perhaps think what worlds of
other Companies are under Mr. B.'s direction. They bump
Westminster Pier.
Miss Robinson {whose subtle brain is perfectly Gladstonian). lie did
not like to give me the three-penny piece, at first, though.
Mr. Brown. Few people like parting with money. Ha! ha!
Miss Jones. True. Yet what is the use of money, unless spent ?
Miss Robinson. Money is the root of all evil, they say.
Mr. Brown. Still it makes the mare go. Ha! ha !
[Great fun for some minutes.
Miss Robinson {bent on the solution of her new problem). But his trying
to keep back the three-penny piece would not show that he was dis-
honest towards his employers, but only to the public.
Mr. Broicn {solemnly). My dear lady, I have always remarked, in
my progress through life that— {They bu/up Hungerford Pier). Dear me,
there is always a mess at this pier. O, all right. I was going to say,
that I have always remarked, in my progress through life, that a person
but not pedantic, lively but not flippant, bold but not audacious, serious I who will be dishonesty towards one person will be so towards another
but not didactic, and a great many other things but not a great many
ottier things, and, in short, that the British Public talks admirably.
Eager for the honour of his native land, Mr. Punch has been taking
notes of a good deal of Conversation which has lately reached his
immortal ears. And in proof of the justness of his eulogium, he
subjoins a specimen of a brilliant dialogue which occupied and amused
the estimable individuals who delivered it, all the way from the Nine
Elms Pier to Blackfriars Bridge. He took it down in short hand, and
his notes may be seen on application at the publisher's.
Scene—After-Beck of the " Bride " Steamer.
Enter, embarking from the Pier, Mr. Brown, a well-dressed, florid, fussy,
pursy lady's man, of'middle age, and some rotundity; Miss Jones,
a highly-dressed spinster, of a certain age, with rather a made voice
and simper to match, and her friend, Miss Bobinson, of the same
pattern. The ladies tcere unacquainted with the gentleman, but they
met at tJie pay-place, and the plot of the drama is that the man who
gives the tickets thought for a moment that the three were one party.
Miss Jones {determined to go in for honours). Certainly—
Miss Robinson {forestalling her friend). Because there is nothing
more to make a person honest in one case than in another.
Mr. Brown. Precisely. Except the fear of being found out. Ha! ba!
Miss Jones {who has something in her, after all). Eear of detection is a
low motive to deter from the commission of wrong.
Mr. Broicn. A'ery just, very just. It is so.
Miss Robinson {rather a failure this time). Persons should know their
duty, and do it.
Mr. Brown. Very true, very true. So they should.
Miss Jones {pursuing her advantage). But if everybody did what they
ought to do—
Mr. Brown {the masculine vigour re-asserting itself). We should not
want those majestic buildings to remind us of what is proper and right.
[Points to St. Paul's, as they bump Waterloo Pier. The Ladies gaze
upon the Cathedral, as if seeing it for the first time in a new light.
Miss Jones {giving way to her enthusiasm). It is indeed a fine structure.
Miss Robinson {devotional feeling having overcome her rivalry). Is ic
Mr. Brown {bustling aft, and smiling). Ab, ha! Ha, ah ! [ Waits. \ mt/r £nd ho^ wel1 i°\Cim see ll lrom ll}Q "vera
Miss Jones {following). Hee-bee-liee. [Takes her seat. j Mr. Brown. li;J&s^n}}\ y°u acre aT,are' by SlK Christopher Wren.
Miss Robinson {fainter). Hee-hee. [Takes her's.' Both Ladies {thankfully). O Sir Christopher Wken.
Mr Brown Ha' Ha ' ' Miss dones. I afwavs torget the name.
[The Ladies being seated, Mr. Brown sits. They all smile for Miss Robinson I ihink of a little bird, but then I forget winch bird.
some time Mr. Brown {Jacetiously). Perhaps, it the man had kept the three-
Mr. Brown {with a more subdued laugh). Ah-ha! j PenQy Piece>; w2ul7dllave sPent j* Pay^,to 8° in a£d ?*• Paul's.
Miss Robinson {volcamcally). Hee-hee—hee-hes-hee. I „ L7^I^ ar0eMw^,unhli^6u^£la^uin Pier.
\jSoat moces 0ff Mr. Brown. Ha! Ha ! I wish you good morning, ladies. I am
Mr. Brown. I am bound {emphatically, and with action) to say, ladies, g0'7^,!°/e|'. 011t here,
that I do not think he meant, to be impertinent. ' Both Ladies Good, morning . ■
Both Ladies. O dear no ! 0 dear no. i cMr- Brown (as he asfmds the pier). Very nice, lady-like women-lull
Brown. Mistakes will occur, you know. of intellect and appreciation. [Exit.
Both Ladies. Just so, just so. 1 . fhss Jon™.- What a very well-informed man, dear. Evidently an
Mr. Brown. You are aware that he must see a great many persons in ^ftoeotial City merchant. _
the course of the dav * Robinson. Or banker, perhaps—ins manner is so superior.
Miss Jones {thoughtfully). I suppose he must. tThe "Bride " proceeds on her perilous way.
Mr. Brown. Yes. And some of these persons come alone, while ------------
others come, perhaps two, perhaps three, perhaps even more together, i ,, . ..__. m
Miss Robinson {apprehending). h\\ Exactly ! Yes. I The Eight Man m the Right Place.
Mr. Brown. Well then, it is difficult, unless he is told, for him to Mr. Gavan Duffy, Irish Patriot, and Parliamentary flunkey to his
know- whether one person belongs to another's party, or not. Holiness the Pope, has siscuified his intention to transport himself to
Miss Jones. It must be, of course. Australia. Mr. Gavan Duffy is a good judge.