Punch (35.1858)

July 24; 1858.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

'69

THE CREAM AT CREMORNE.

w our tiptopping
swells, with won-
der Punch tells,
The cream of the
cream of society,
Finding Almack's
too slow, down to
Cremorne did go,
Just by way of a

pleasant variety.
How, to make all se-
rene, not a Smith
was there seen,
Nor a Brown nor a
J ones was admit-
ted:

Such common folks
all were kept out-
side the wall
For to mix with the
nobs they weren't
fitted.
There were vouchers
required; and as
'twas desired
That the game
should be well
worth the candle,
None might join in the sport who had not been to Court,

Or whose names had not some sort of handle.
To make the thing pleasant, not a man was there present

But had vouchers to prove him a dandy,
And no one was there who had carrotty hair,

Or whose legs were plebeianly bandy.
Barring out the oi itoWol they then made themselves jolly,

In spite of the mis'rable weather;
For it rained dogs and cats, and the bonnets and hats

Soon were soaked through and dripmng together.
0, it rained cats and dogs, and goloshes or clogs
Were to dress an essential addition,

And the fortunate fellas who'd brought their umbrellas

Found their arms were in great requisition.
Aristocratic papas and anxious mammas,

Who had gone to look after their daughters.
Spite of tight shoes and gout, were seen paddling about,

In the vain hope of finding dry quarters.
Damp Knights of the Bath vowed 'twas too Bad by half

Such a douche to their health would be ruin ;
And delicate Swells, who'd been "doing" the Wells,

Feared the water would prove their undoing.
Sherry cobblers that night at a discount were quite,

And ices were sparingly doled out:
But many a Peer's daughter sipped hot brandy and water,

As a medicine to just keep the cold out.
The continuous showers, that watered the flowers

Of fashion and pinks of politeness,
Took the starch out of dresses, and curl out of tresses,

And the white chokers robbed of their whiteness.
Of the dance on the green not a vestige was seen,

For the green through the mud was invisible,
So the " lark" on the grass which was promised, alas !

As a mud-lark abortive was quizzable.
Some daring young dogs proposed dancing in clogs,

Havingfathomed the depth of the flood well;
And in spite of the chills waded thro' some quadrilles,

La Poule being done in a puddle.
So the nobs nob-ly all strove to keep up the ball,

Just to show they'd a taste for aquatics:
Defiant of damp, and of what Mrs. Gamp

So expressively terms the "room attics."
But though Punch loves a laugh, and a chuckle, and chaff,

Of the Cream he would not speak too skimmingly :
And with truth Punch may state that Lord Ingestre'8
fete,

It can't be denied, went off swimmingly.
And though some people say that the thing was outre,

They should not forget while they say so,
That for charity they who their guineas did pay,

Some hundreds were able to raise so.
And while Punch admires pluck he pities ill-luck,

And for charity owns veneration,
So Punch hopes that the brave, fairer weather may have,

For their next Cremorne Jollification !

A NEW DISCOVERY.

" No. 6, Polyglott Place, Paradise Row,
" My Dear Mr. Punch, " July Uh, 1858.

" Having just returned from my nineteenth trip up the Rhine,
1 have been struck with the intense variety of the coins and the lan-
guages of that interesting region. I fear that ikejirsi are hopeless to
mend, certainly hopeless to keep; but I have hit upon a project for
improving the second. Could we not make a common language, a sort
of Rhenish ' Lingua Franca ' out of the immense quantity of wasted
grammar that is annually evaporated in that neighbourhood ? May
I request you to read a ' dialogue' which I had with a friend on the
subject, and a little poem in ' Rhenish Polyglott.'

" I am, Mr. Punch, very Sincerely yours,

" Ztjnge."

DIALOGUES POLYGLOTTES.
Bon jour, Signora.

Good Morning, Monsieur, Haben Sie gut geschlafen?
Tolerably well, Je vous remercies, ma alle cinque.

10 fur disturbed by that confounded Peacock.

Maladetto. He spoiled auch bei mir une des plus jolies reves
che ho mai commencees.

Mais je vous prie, Signora, what were you dreaming of?

11 m'est venu une idee bizarre, extravagante forse, ma ganz nutzlich
alia gente universale, the great family of man.

Che ce, Che c6, Signora! Was ist dasz ?

Io son persuaso dass es wiirde ganz jolly sein nur eine Sprache zu
haben, un peu varied.

C'est vrai, but in the highest degree expressive and energetic.

Une idee- magnifique, grandioza, utilissima.

Thanks to that blessed Peacock that he did not let it scapparir.

You flatter me, cara Signora, etroppo,—

Mais je pense vraiment that I have hit the bull's eye.

The Bull's eye, caro mio ! Was ist dasz ?

C'est la verity, Monsieur; c'est la verite.

Le noyeau della virtii. Le point central dell' intelletto umano. La
position bien elev^e quoique dangereuse qui se trouve in the very centre
of the panorama of truth.

Mille pardons, cara Signora, I see that you come it rather strong
you lay it on etwas dick,

But pardon, wollen Sie nur sagen if this auguste d^couverte soit
applicable to the lofty flights della poesia, as well as to the simple
platitudes della prosa ?

Poetry, Sir! You have hit the bull's eye indeed.

C'est dans la voie sublime della poesia, la carriera spinosa du bel
esprit, c'est la que mes idees sont quite at home. They flourish, they
triumph, they live. "Es fiihlte selbst das Seelenlose des meinea
Lebens Wiederhall."

Quant a moi, I am so firmly persuaded that I have made a d^cou-
verte assai utile, ganz nutzlich, infinamente gloriosa, that I am firsa-
mente persuaso to carry it out, or to die like a martyr in the attempt.
Nel dicer, nel dicer, Moreremos ! Libertad ! Libertad! Libertad!!

AM RHEIN.

Oh ! the Rhine—the Rhine—the Rhine—
Comme c'est beau ! wie schon ! che bello !

He who quaffs thy Luft und Wein,
Morbleu ! is a lucky fellow !

How I love thy rushing streams !

Groves of ash, of birch, of hazel;
From Schaffhausen's rainbow beams,

Jusqu'a l'echo d'Oberwesel.

Oh que j'aime thy Briichen when

The crammed Dampfschilf gaily passes,

Love the bronzed pipes of thy men,
And the bronzed cheeks of thy lasses.

Oh ! que j'aime the " oui," the " bah! "

From thy motley crowds that flow !
Writh the universal "ja,"

And the allgemeine " so ! "

Speaking Coolly of a Friend.—Calling him a " nice swell! "—(An
ice well.)