Punch (36.1859)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [Jtsa 4, 1859.

THE CALL OE THE NIGHTINGALE.

What dost thou sing, melodious Nightingale ?

What and to whom ? Unto thy nestling mate
Perchance thou dost outpour thy tender tale,

Begun so early and sustained so late.

To her if thou dost warble loving vows

Of constancy all night as well as day,
Would I could understand thee like thy spouse ! *

What is the meaning of thy tuneful lay ?

'Tis the same story o'er and o'er again,
An old, old story—that at least we know—

Love thrills with rapture in thy gushing strain;
"lis fond affection in incessant flow.

But hark!—thou speakest from thy leafy nook,

In voice articulate among the twigs.
What do I hear ? Thou callest " Chook, chook, chook!

Oh, Nightingale !—so thou dost call the pigs!

DELICATE TEST.

Elevated Party. "A never think a el'er's had t'mdsh wine a'long as a
rriNDSUP-iSH wash !" [Proceeds to perform that operation with corkscrew.

Louis Napoleon's Right Hand.

Monsieur de la Gtjerroniere has recently been
appointed the guardian angel of the morals of the French
press. That spotless gentleman is the bosom friend ot
Louis Napoleon, and the principal collaborateur in all
his great pamphleteering successes. He had two or three
fingers in the concoction of Napoleon Trois et I'ltalie, and
other similar inspired productions. A Bonapartist was
recently repeating the Bordeaux manifesto, which has
since been so beautifully verified, of EEmpire e'est la
Paix. "Betise, Monsieur" sharply exclaimed the Princess
Mathilde, " say rather that E Empire e'est La Guerre-

oniere."

Sticking to his Colours.

" Noa ! I'se alius been true Blew, I '11 never wote for
Yaller!" exclaimed a "free and independent" some-
where down in " Silly Suffolk." But the voter after all,
although he plumped for " Blew," did give his vote for
" Yaller:" for yellow was the colour of the money which
was handed to him.

SERIOUS STABLE-TALK.

To the Editor of the Record.

My Dearly Beloved Sir,

Among our worldly contemporaries' " Sporting Intelligence "
is a list of " quotations," which, I should explain to you, means a report
of the odds, or proportional wagers laid on the horses that are to run
against one another at the approaching Races at Epsom, on a certain
Wednesday, when a race of peculiar interest to members of the Turf—
yea, and even to the greater portion of the public—annually takes
place ; and under the head of

" Derby,"

which, you must know, is the name of the grand horse-race in question,
you will find this announcement:—

" 2 to 1 against Mr. w. Day's The Promised Land, taken."

Two to one may mean two pounds to one, or two hundred pounds to
one hundred, or t wo thousand pounds to one thousand, or even greater
sums in the same ratio, which they who are given to horse-racing some-
times bet upon a horse that is celebrated for exceeding great swiftness.
Such persons have hitherto been, with too much reason, accounted a
prolane kind of men ; and hence the pastime to which their lives are
devoted has acquired an unsanctified character. They have been
regular only in the observance of the Derby and similar davs; and
their conversation and language have been at best unscripturaf. 1 feel
great pleasure, therefore, in calling your attention to the name of Mr.
Day s horse above mentioned; because it consists of a familiar phrase
in the language of professors, and its adoption warrants the hope of
a happy change of heart on the part of that animal's owner. Perad-
yenture, Mr. W. Day is related to Mr. John Day of Stockbridge, and
to other gentlemen ot the same name and place, long celebrated in the
annals ot the sporting world. If so, may we not indulge the pleasing
expectation that his example may be followed by the conversion of his
relatives, and that all the other Days will likewise embrace serious

views ? Let us trust that we may be privileged to witness the reali-
sation of this blessed prospect; and that the brightness of Day, in
connection with the " Promised Land," will henceforth shine not more
often in the Sporting Magazine than in the Evangelical. Oh! believe
me, my dearly beloved contemporary,

Your affectionate Eellow Labourer,

P.S. May not some of the itinerant preachers who frequent race-
courses have been the instruments of that work which has resulted
in inducing an ossy man to give his race-horse a serious appellation ?
By the way, could you not devote a leader to the enumeration of names
which awakened jockeys and owners of studs might henceforth confer
upon their quadrupeds, instead of designations borrowed from the
heathen mythology, and other more or less sinful quarters ?

Fellowship amongst Cups.

Lord Ebury was remarking that there was no sincerity, no frater-
nisation, no real friendship amongst drunkards. "Excuse me, my
Lord," interposed a rising briefless barrister, " but how do you account,
then for the French proverb, which distinctly tells us that ' Un sot
trouve toujours un phis sot qui I'admire'—which, for the benefit of your
Lordship, I may as well translate thus ' A sot always finds a greater
sot to admire him.' " Lord Ebury suddenly recollected that he had
a most pressing appointment.

The School for Butchers.

A Company of Butchers has left Paris to join the Erench army. Is
Italy to be made a greater slaughter-house than it already is ? or have
these butchers simply gone to improve themselves in their business by
taking a few lessons of the Austrians ? In this instance, we are afraid
the professional butchers will be comDietelv eclipsed by the amateurs.