DOI Heft:
November 3, 1860
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16866#0179
.November 3, IbGu.J
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
)
I
I
|
“ DE GTJSTIBUS, &c.”
Dingle. “ That style of Whisicer seems to me to give a Wild Beast sort of expression.”
Dangle. “ ’ Course it does. Exactly what I'm Going in for ! ! ”
ENGLAND’S IRON WALLS.
We have a mail-clad Warrior on the stocks; but we
want many other Men of W ar in Armour—not such as are
to figure in the Lord Mayor’s Show.
No longer can we boast of the Wooden Walls of Old
England, for those walls must now be made of a different
material; not hearts of oak, but—
Ribs of steel are our ships,
Engineers are our men,
We’re steady boys—steady.
But always unready;
We’ve just let the Erench get before us again!
However, steam frigates and rams are better calculated
to repel aggression than they are to facilitate invasion.
The service in whicli they are likely to be most effectual,
is that of. keeping offensive people aloof. One of them
would, with the greatest ease, very soon send a three-
decker full of men to the bottom. Though, therefore,
French sailors will rejoice in these iron-bound vessels,
Erench troops will hardly be transported.
A Post Captain will in future be an officer in command
of Her Majesty’s Naval Mail.
But after all, perhaps, one of these days, the time will
come when even these last improvements in naval architec-
ture will be superseded by floating batteries of higher
proof and greater power. And then even our Ironsides
of the Ocean will be looked upon as rusty old inventions.
Passport Precedence.
Much honour to Sweden, whose land is an Eden
Where Passports, those nuisances, now are unknown;
More honour to Norway, who previously saw way
To abolish such trash, that stops good men alone;
Most honour to Denmark who, first, with one pen-mark,
Dashed down the whole system of folly and flam ;
And may spies, thieves, and traitors, and such aggravators,
Still baffle all rulers who keep up the Sham.
THE DAWN OF REPENTANCE.
Late nights have but one end, and that end, sooner or
later, is—mourning !—The President of the Early-Closing-
your-Eyes Association.
The Type of a Citizen.—Bourgeois.
The Type of a Schoolmaster —Primer.
The Type of a Baby.—Small Caps.
OUR ROVING CORRESPONDENT.
“ My dear Punch,
“ Among the various advantages of being in Town when the
■ cream and flower of fashion have departed, I reckon the comparative
ease with which one can find a Hansom cab, a vacant table at Simp-
! son’s, and a seat at the theatres. I don’t mean to say that your
j ‘ bloated aristocrats ’ take up much more room than ordinary mortals,
or.that the pit (which I chiefly frequent) is their favourite haunt on
! this side the footlights. Still the season is the season, there’s no
I denying that, and when it comes, bustle and confusion as surely ensue
as that annual hecatomb of delicate kids, of which we are reminded in
j our glover’s bills.
“ The other night, then, tempted by that admirable arrangement by
j which one may make sure of finding a seat without bolting one’s
dinner, and thus incurring the horrors of indigestion, I found myself
j iu the pit of the Adelphi. I prefer, as I have said, that part of the
j house. . I have heard m^ny of my friends confess the same partiality,
and assign various reasons for so doing; as for instance, because it is
i cooler, or warmer, or more respectable than the boxes ; or because you
I needn’t ‘dress’ there, or because it is the best place to see, &c, &c.
Now besides all these there is another advantage, which these honest
folks seem to overlook,but which the following little sum of subtraction
will render evident:—
A box ticket costs say.5^. Qd.
A pit ditto ditto ditto.2s. 0d.
Leaving a clear balance in hand of ‘.is. 0d.
That is the advantage I mean, and I can’t think why people are so
obtuse as not to see it.
“ Of course I went to see the Colleen Pawn. I couldn’t help myself.
Everyone was bothering me about it. * Have you seen the Colleen ? ’
says one. ‘ What d’ ye think of the Bawn ? ’ inquired another,
(between ourselves I’ve not the wildest notion what either of these
words mean; but that’s not to the point). 1 determined to go, and
you may picture me seated with a bi-foliated playbill in my hand, and
listening to the last bars of the overture.
“ Eheu, Bosthume! it must be some eight years ago since I, fresh from
the classic shades of Eastminster, sat before another drop-scene when
a certain young lady played Kadiga in the Alhambra, and sang a
facetious duet with poor old Harley'. By Jove! how I envied that
venerable comedian as he piped out—
“ My dear Kadiga, one fine day,” &c.
'
I would have cheerfully resigned my last new bat and stumps of the
most approved pattern, and with all the latest improvements, to have
changed places with him. I am afraid I took advantage of my parents’
absence from town to repair to the Princess’s on five consecutive
nights, and should have been present on the sixth but for a severe cold
which I caught while absurdly waiting about to see Some One drive j
away in a cab. There was one bouquet tied up with silver cord which S'
she must have noticed. All! vine la Jeunesse ! Live the youth, indeed !
I thought I could have died for—but however, I didn’t. You see I >
was but seventeen at the time: young gentlemen at that period of life
frequently survive their disappointments—(no less than eleven and a
half have fallen to my lot), but I confess I was rather in a flutter when
the curtain rose upon the Colleen Bawn. You know the plot, I dare
say, but as some of your 500,000 readers may not, I will just sketch
the outline.
“ The scene is laid in Ireland towards the close of the last century,
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
)
I
I
|
“ DE GTJSTIBUS, &c.”
Dingle. “ That style of Whisicer seems to me to give a Wild Beast sort of expression.”
Dangle. “ ’ Course it does. Exactly what I'm Going in for ! ! ”
ENGLAND’S IRON WALLS.
We have a mail-clad Warrior on the stocks; but we
want many other Men of W ar in Armour—not such as are
to figure in the Lord Mayor’s Show.
No longer can we boast of the Wooden Walls of Old
England, for those walls must now be made of a different
material; not hearts of oak, but—
Ribs of steel are our ships,
Engineers are our men,
We’re steady boys—steady.
But always unready;
We’ve just let the Erench get before us again!
However, steam frigates and rams are better calculated
to repel aggression than they are to facilitate invasion.
The service in whicli they are likely to be most effectual,
is that of. keeping offensive people aloof. One of them
would, with the greatest ease, very soon send a three-
decker full of men to the bottom. Though, therefore,
French sailors will rejoice in these iron-bound vessels,
Erench troops will hardly be transported.
A Post Captain will in future be an officer in command
of Her Majesty’s Naval Mail.
But after all, perhaps, one of these days, the time will
come when even these last improvements in naval architec-
ture will be superseded by floating batteries of higher
proof and greater power. And then even our Ironsides
of the Ocean will be looked upon as rusty old inventions.
Passport Precedence.
Much honour to Sweden, whose land is an Eden
Where Passports, those nuisances, now are unknown;
More honour to Norway, who previously saw way
To abolish such trash, that stops good men alone;
Most honour to Denmark who, first, with one pen-mark,
Dashed down the whole system of folly and flam ;
And may spies, thieves, and traitors, and such aggravators,
Still baffle all rulers who keep up the Sham.
THE DAWN OF REPENTANCE.
Late nights have but one end, and that end, sooner or
later, is—mourning !—The President of the Early-Closing-
your-Eyes Association.
The Type of a Citizen.—Bourgeois.
The Type of a Schoolmaster —Primer.
The Type of a Baby.—Small Caps.
OUR ROVING CORRESPONDENT.
“ My dear Punch,
“ Among the various advantages of being in Town when the
■ cream and flower of fashion have departed, I reckon the comparative
ease with which one can find a Hansom cab, a vacant table at Simp-
! son’s, and a seat at the theatres. I don’t mean to say that your
j ‘ bloated aristocrats ’ take up much more room than ordinary mortals,
or.that the pit (which I chiefly frequent) is their favourite haunt on
! this side the footlights. Still the season is the season, there’s no
I denying that, and when it comes, bustle and confusion as surely ensue
as that annual hecatomb of delicate kids, of which we are reminded in
j our glover’s bills.
“ The other night, then, tempted by that admirable arrangement by
j which one may make sure of finding a seat without bolting one’s
dinner, and thus incurring the horrors of indigestion, I found myself
j iu the pit of the Adelphi. I prefer, as I have said, that part of the
j house. . I have heard m^ny of my friends confess the same partiality,
and assign various reasons for so doing; as for instance, because it is
i cooler, or warmer, or more respectable than the boxes ; or because you
I needn’t ‘dress’ there, or because it is the best place to see, &c, &c.
Now besides all these there is another advantage, which these honest
folks seem to overlook,but which the following little sum of subtraction
will render evident:—
A box ticket costs say.5^. Qd.
A pit ditto ditto ditto.2s. 0d.
Leaving a clear balance in hand of ‘.is. 0d.
That is the advantage I mean, and I can’t think why people are so
obtuse as not to see it.
“ Of course I went to see the Colleen Pawn. I couldn’t help myself.
Everyone was bothering me about it. * Have you seen the Colleen ? ’
says one. ‘ What d’ ye think of the Bawn ? ’ inquired another,
(between ourselves I’ve not the wildest notion what either of these
words mean; but that’s not to the point). 1 determined to go, and
you may picture me seated with a bi-foliated playbill in my hand, and
listening to the last bars of the overture.
“ Eheu, Bosthume! it must be some eight years ago since I, fresh from
the classic shades of Eastminster, sat before another drop-scene when
a certain young lady played Kadiga in the Alhambra, and sang a
facetious duet with poor old Harley'. By Jove! how I envied that
venerable comedian as he piped out—
“ My dear Kadiga, one fine day,” &c.
'
I would have cheerfully resigned my last new bat and stumps of the
most approved pattern, and with all the latest improvements, to have
changed places with him. I am afraid I took advantage of my parents’
absence from town to repair to the Princess’s on five consecutive
nights, and should have been present on the sixth but for a severe cold
which I caught while absurdly waiting about to see Some One drive j
away in a cab. There was one bouquet tied up with silver cord which S'
she must have noticed. All! vine la Jeunesse ! Live the youth, indeed !
I thought I could have died for—but however, I didn’t. You see I >
was but seventeen at the time: young gentlemen at that period of life
frequently survive their disappointments—(no less than eleven and a
half have fallen to my lot), but I confess I was rather in a flutter when
the curtain rose upon the Colleen Bawn. You know the plot, I dare
say, but as some of your 500,000 readers may not, I will just sketch
the outline.
“ The scene is laid in Ireland towards the close of the last century,