Punch (35.1858)

November 13, 1358j PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

193

UTILITY COMBINED WITH ELEGANCE.

PRICE OF POTATOES AT STOCKPORT.

We lately bad occasion to lament the sad fact that Rectors no
longer drink port wine. A melancholy proof of the injurious moral
effect of this abstinence is afforded by the following report, extracted
from the Stockport Advertiser:—

" Charge of Stealing Potatoes.—On Tuesday, at the New Bailey, before the
Rector, a poor Irish labourer named John Connor, was charged with stealing
potatoes from the farm of Mr. Henry Chetham, of Cheadle-Bulkely. that forenoon.
It appeared he left his wife and three children for the purpose of looking after some
agricultural employment; and seeing some loose potatoes lying in a field of Mr.
Chetham's, he got over the hedge and picked up four (prisoner says two) potatoes.
One of Mr. Sykes's sons, being eye-witness of the robbery, apprehended him on the
spot, and turned him over to P. C. Lancelot. Two potatoes were found in his
pocket and two others where he had been standing, one of which was rotten. The
Irishman pleaded guilty. Nothing is known against him. He said he only took
two for his wife aud family who were 'clemming ' at that time. The value of the
stolen pioperty was put down at one penny! Committed to 21 days' hard labour."

The Magistrate who pronounced the monstrous sentence recorded in
the above almost incredible story, is described as a Rector. What
could the Rector have been drinking to condemn a poor fellow, not
known to be a regular thief, to three weeks' hard labour for taking a
penn'orth of potatoes to eat? No port wine, anyhow. One glass of
that generous heart-warming beverage would have inspired him with
another feeling than that which made him send the unfortunate hungry
Irishman to drink the water and eat the bread of affliction. Water,
hard water, saturated with admixture of irritating saline particles, is
the only fluid that can have been imbibed by that clergyman for some
time. Such salt water may make malevolence thirsty. Temperate judg-
ment does not always flow from the pump; if it did, we should say
that nothing could account for the mittimus of this Rector (who cer-
tainly drinks no port), but the very worst spirits that ever brought on
delirium tremens.

John Bull's Confession.

Father Barabbas. My dear Sir, will you allow me to remark that
" Confession is good for the Soul."

John Bull. Yes—the sole of one's boot; for I can tell you, if I catch
any of you fine-talking gentlemen coming your Confession-dodge in my
house, 1 shall kick you out precious quick!

AN INHARMONIOUS CONTRAST.

Jullien's " Hymn of Universal Harmony " was certainly wanting in
effect the first night; for the effect on the audience was anything but
harmonious. Whilst the chorus was warbling the prettiest sentiments,
oaths and blows were being freely exchanged in the promenade. The
appeal from the orchestra, that the whole world should love one another
as brothers, was answered from below by loud cries of, "A Ring !
A Ring !" Poetic exhortations to " Peace " ended in a general fight;
and the only figure conjured up by the music, which was breathing
nothing short of universal love, was that of a Policeman, who flourished
his staff about with a vigour and precision worthy of the great maitre's
baton. If the "Row Polka" had been played instead, the response
from the brute part of the audience could not have been in better tone.
As it was, the contradiction was most comical; and probably if Jollien
follows up his present triumph with, "A Hymn of Universal Discord"
it may, judging from the present opposite result, send his shilling
admirers into transports of the wildest good-humour, and we may
witness the curious sight of an entire pit of mouldy gents all embracing
one another.

The exhibition would be most pathetic ! In the meantime, we warn
Julllen against trying any more " Harmony." The disturbance on
the opening night should be a music lesson to him as to the danger of
such experiments. His excuse is, that he was anxious to know how
far the gentish breast was open to the influence of " Universal Har-
mony" "If the Gent takes it quietly," he reasoned, " I know at once
the effect it will have upon the Savages." The Promenade is quieted
now, and the Mons glows every evening with a sunset halo of golden
delight. He has no misgivings about his forthcoming musical scamper,
with the piccolo as his alpenstock, all over the world. He consoles
himself with the comforting assurance, that since he has escaped the
fury of the Gents, the Anthropophagi are sure to receive him with
open arms.

Jtjllien is so pleased with the success of his " Universal Harmony"
that he intends dedicating it to his friend, John Bright.

Advice to a Gambler.—Never say die.