DOI Heft:
February 2, 1861
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16867#0051
Fkukdary 2, 15t)l.J
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
43
THE CLERICAL MOUSTACHE MOVEMENT.
O Shave or not to Shave ?
that is the question
which is just now agita-
ting the Parsonic world.
Whether ’tis better in
the throat to suffer the
stings and torments of an
inflamed swallow, or to
take armour ’gainst, a
host of troubles, and by
not shaving end them ?
Certainly, at first
thought, one hardly
seems to fancy a Parson
in moustaches, and would
almost as soon look to
see a Quaker in them.
Yet, after all, we cannot
see why the former should
not wear them, at least
provided always that
they suit his style of face.
We associate moustaches
with military men; but
then do not Clergymen
helong to the Church
Militant ? All we fear
is, if the movement be
generally followed, that pet Parsons, if they join in it, will give
themselves more (h)airs than they do at present, and we think there
are enough apparent as it is.
OUR ROVING CORRESPONDENT.
“ My dear Punch,
“The severity of the late weather, which had nearly frozen up
my energies as well as the contents of my inkstand, is past, and I take
advantage of the thaw, when one’s ideas seem to flow more easily, to
drop you a few lines, which I will preface with a hope that you have
enjoyed your Christmas.
“ For my part I always await that festive season with feelings of
pleasure not altogether unalloyed. I am not thinking now of those
provoking results of simple addition with which my bootmaker and tailor
make a point of favouring me. I am not alluding to the playful eccen-
tricities of my nephew Tom (aet. 74) in whose company I was condemned
to dine on the 25th of last month, who, in the exuberance of boyish
spirits, is wont to treat my hair as a practicable bell-pull, and acting on
this ingenious hypothesis proceeds to unbutton my waistcoat by way
of a street-door. I forgive the ‘ Waits,’ although they played * Oh,
Willie, we have missed you’ under my bed-room window to such an
awful extent during the Christmas week that I was half inclined to
wish that that erratic gentleman had deferred his return until the
morning. But apart from these private and individual grievances, I
have another in common with most brothers and lie-cousins, viz., the
duly of escorting some of my female relatives on their shopping excur-
sions. They belong, Sir, to what I call the doremalic, or present-giving
species—-never forget birth-days, wedding-days, red-letter days, or any
other occasion for indulging in their harmless propensity. Thus it
comes to pass that I have, at this moment, eleven pairs of Berlin wool
slippers which I could have ‘made up’ at any time (as I am assured
by a respectable bootmaker in Oxford Street) for about five guineas,
seven smoking caps innocent of the noxious weed, and lying wrapped
in silver paper in my bureau. Thirteen knives and pencil-cases at an
average value of 3s. 9d. each. Eight porte-monnaies apparently con-
structed for the deposit of fourpenny bits. Two potichomanie jars,
decorated with an elaborate pattern, the simplest element of which is
the alternate representation of a blue rose and a mandarin in convul-
sions, an embroidered waistcoat (in which I would as soon appear as in
a philibeg) and twenty-three tea-kettle holders lined with moire
antique, white satin, and other appropriate material.
“ All this, however, by the way, the main drift and object of this
letter being to call your attention to the disagreeables which invariably
attend that pursuit known in the domestic world as shopping. And
observe in the first place that I exclude from my remarks at the outset
all those supereminently swell establishments wtiose hereditary'prest.ige
places them beyond the necessity of practising the great Touting Art.
If for instance I employ Herr Von Stultzmeister or Mr. Bucks to
adorn my person at the rate of two guineas per limb, I am quite sure
that it will be done in the best, possihle manner with the least possible
trouble to myself. Then again Pivergant’s gloves at four and nine-
penee per pair are first-rate of their kind, and the young lady who
disposes of them receives my cash with dignified composure, and allows
me to leave her odoriferous counter unmolested. But suppose with
my moderate income of say £ *** per annum I am unable to deal with
those eminent firms : suppose I am selecting a pair of gloves at a shop
in one of our great thoroughfares why am I to be told if they (the
gloves) are too small, that they will stretch ; if they are too large that
they will collapse with the ’eat of the ’and, or some such nonsense;
why if I prefer drab am I to be informed that ‘ green is mostly worn
now, Sir;’ or if I ask for green that ‘nothing is so genteel as drab ;’
why if I complain that the kid is of indifferent quality, does Mr
Smirker, from behind the counter, say, ‘Sir?’ in a deferentially im
pudent manner, and pretend that he did not hear me ? Why when 1
do repeat the observation does he meet it with the remark, that it is
very extraordinary, but that it is the first complaint he has ever heard Oi
them, and that so far from their being dear at three-and-six, that they
ought to be four shillings a pair: ought to be indeed, then why aren’t
they, I should like to know ! Finally, why when he has wrapt up my
gloves, doesn’t he give them to me at once, instead of putting them
aside, and saying, ‘What will be the next article?’ in a lone which
seems to imply, that if I don’t lay out a pound or two my custom is not
worth having! I reply, ‘nothing else, thank you,’ as politely as I can,
and he immediately inquires again, ‘Anything in shirts, collars,
pocket-’andkerchiefs, braces, draw—?” (in short, etcetera). When I
shake my head he lifts down a great wooden tray, and taking up an
elaborate sort of running noose composed of silk and flannel informs
me that it is ‘termed’ the Californian cravat, and that he (Shirker)
considers it a very gentlemanly thing in ties. I sternly ask him for
change, when slmuting out ‘ Cash !’ (which he pronounces kesh) he
bangs my sovereign down on the counter, partly I suppose to see if it
is a good one, and partly to impress me with an idea that he is a
thoroughly business-like man, who gets through his work before you
can say Jack Robinson. In this last respect, however, his extraor-
dinary energy defeats itself, for the money drops on the floor, and he
loses ten minutes in looking for it. W?hile Kesh, who is a bilious
looking little boy in a round jacket, and horribly precocious at accounts,
is gone for the change to his den (which suggests the idea of a regiment
of cricket stumps escalading a family pew), Smirker thinks I had
better let him put me up the Californian cravat, but as I don’t concur
in that opinion, I am allowed to depart in a great rage, while Smirker
keeps his temper admirably, and bows me out.
“Now, my dear Mr. Punch, I appeal to you, is not this sort of thing a
dreadful nuisance, and haven’t I a right to complain of it ? Why can’t
I go into a shop and buy a pair of gloves without being subject to an
inquisition respecting the rest of my wardrobe. Good Heavens, can’t
a man ask for what he wants! If I were to go over to my baker’s, and
invest in an Abernethy biscuit, do you suppose Mrs. Baker would say
‘ Want anything in rusks, hot rolls, muffins, tops and bottoms?’ or,
‘This is a sweet thing in tea-cakes, Sir! Better let me put you up
that quartern loaf. This is what we term the Bohemian bun, &c.’ Of
course not, and why should touting be tolerated in one case more than
another. And if Messrs. Shirker and Feah keep a shop, why the
deuce can’t they call it a shop instead of a mart or an emporium! Am 1
t.o be dazzled by these high-sounding titles or their gaudy shop front?
Ho they think to impose upon me with their gilded cornices ? Do they
suppose I cannot see through their plate glass. Oh, Mdlles. Lucy,
Laura, Louisa, Beatrice, Bessie, and Blanche, who read these
words in these truly ‘hard times,’ have a care how you ‘shop’ and
beware of wondrous bargains. Every good bonnet, muff, or shawl that
you buy is worth its fair price, neither more nor less, and if you find
Messrs. Shirker and Flam underselling their neighbours, depend on it
something is wrong somewhere, either the goods are inferior or some
poor needlewoman is underpaid. Don’t believe in ‘Bankrupt Sales’ and
‘Tremendous Sacrifices.’ When you see ‘Must be Sold this day,’
remember that the words may apply to you more than to what you see
ticketed. As for the sacrifice, you yourself may be the innocent lamb
ready for immolation. Sacrifice, indeed! if Mr. Shirker were really
making a sacrifice, do you suppose he would go to the expense of red
and yellow printed posters to tell you so ? My dear girls, bargains are
bosh, and ‘Alarming sacrifices’ a delusion anil a snare. If you want
good things, go to a good shop, and pay a fair price for it.
“ Such, my dear Punch, is my advice to the opposite or crinolined
sex who may be just now making their numerous New Year’s pur-
chases. As for myself, I am not likely to make any, but if Messrs.
Shirker and Flam should ask me ‘ What will be the next article ? ’ I
shall refer them to your number for this week. In which, I also wish
you the compliments of the season, and remain,
“ Yours faithfully,
“Jack Easel.”
Revival of the Order of riagellants.
The Yankees say, “ the Britishers whip the rest of the world, and
we whip the Britishers.’
to whip theirselves.”
Now they seem to “calkilate they’re gwine
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
43
THE CLERICAL MOUSTACHE MOVEMENT.
O Shave or not to Shave ?
that is the question
which is just now agita-
ting the Parsonic world.
Whether ’tis better in
the throat to suffer the
stings and torments of an
inflamed swallow, or to
take armour ’gainst, a
host of troubles, and by
not shaving end them ?
Certainly, at first
thought, one hardly
seems to fancy a Parson
in moustaches, and would
almost as soon look to
see a Quaker in them.
Yet, after all, we cannot
see why the former should
not wear them, at least
provided always that
they suit his style of face.
We associate moustaches
with military men; but
then do not Clergymen
helong to the Church
Militant ? All we fear
is, if the movement be
generally followed, that pet Parsons, if they join in it, will give
themselves more (h)airs than they do at present, and we think there
are enough apparent as it is.
OUR ROVING CORRESPONDENT.
“ My dear Punch,
“The severity of the late weather, which had nearly frozen up
my energies as well as the contents of my inkstand, is past, and I take
advantage of the thaw, when one’s ideas seem to flow more easily, to
drop you a few lines, which I will preface with a hope that you have
enjoyed your Christmas.
“ For my part I always await that festive season with feelings of
pleasure not altogether unalloyed. I am not thinking now of those
provoking results of simple addition with which my bootmaker and tailor
make a point of favouring me. I am not alluding to the playful eccen-
tricities of my nephew Tom (aet. 74) in whose company I was condemned
to dine on the 25th of last month, who, in the exuberance of boyish
spirits, is wont to treat my hair as a practicable bell-pull, and acting on
this ingenious hypothesis proceeds to unbutton my waistcoat by way
of a street-door. I forgive the ‘ Waits,’ although they played * Oh,
Willie, we have missed you’ under my bed-room window to such an
awful extent during the Christmas week that I was half inclined to
wish that that erratic gentleman had deferred his return until the
morning. But apart from these private and individual grievances, I
have another in common with most brothers and lie-cousins, viz., the
duly of escorting some of my female relatives on their shopping excur-
sions. They belong, Sir, to what I call the doremalic, or present-giving
species—-never forget birth-days, wedding-days, red-letter days, or any
other occasion for indulging in their harmless propensity. Thus it
comes to pass that I have, at this moment, eleven pairs of Berlin wool
slippers which I could have ‘made up’ at any time (as I am assured
by a respectable bootmaker in Oxford Street) for about five guineas,
seven smoking caps innocent of the noxious weed, and lying wrapped
in silver paper in my bureau. Thirteen knives and pencil-cases at an
average value of 3s. 9d. each. Eight porte-monnaies apparently con-
structed for the deposit of fourpenny bits. Two potichomanie jars,
decorated with an elaborate pattern, the simplest element of which is
the alternate representation of a blue rose and a mandarin in convul-
sions, an embroidered waistcoat (in which I would as soon appear as in
a philibeg) and twenty-three tea-kettle holders lined with moire
antique, white satin, and other appropriate material.
“ All this, however, by the way, the main drift and object of this
letter being to call your attention to the disagreeables which invariably
attend that pursuit known in the domestic world as shopping. And
observe in the first place that I exclude from my remarks at the outset
all those supereminently swell establishments wtiose hereditary'prest.ige
places them beyond the necessity of practising the great Touting Art.
If for instance I employ Herr Von Stultzmeister or Mr. Bucks to
adorn my person at the rate of two guineas per limb, I am quite sure
that it will be done in the best, possihle manner with the least possible
trouble to myself. Then again Pivergant’s gloves at four and nine-
penee per pair are first-rate of their kind, and the young lady who
disposes of them receives my cash with dignified composure, and allows
me to leave her odoriferous counter unmolested. But suppose with
my moderate income of say £ *** per annum I am unable to deal with
those eminent firms : suppose I am selecting a pair of gloves at a shop
in one of our great thoroughfares why am I to be told if they (the
gloves) are too small, that they will stretch ; if they are too large that
they will collapse with the ’eat of the ’and, or some such nonsense;
why if I prefer drab am I to be informed that ‘ green is mostly worn
now, Sir;’ or if I ask for green that ‘nothing is so genteel as drab ;’
why if I complain that the kid is of indifferent quality, does Mr
Smirker, from behind the counter, say, ‘Sir?’ in a deferentially im
pudent manner, and pretend that he did not hear me ? Why when 1
do repeat the observation does he meet it with the remark, that it is
very extraordinary, but that it is the first complaint he has ever heard Oi
them, and that so far from their being dear at three-and-six, that they
ought to be four shillings a pair: ought to be indeed, then why aren’t
they, I should like to know ! Finally, why when he has wrapt up my
gloves, doesn’t he give them to me at once, instead of putting them
aside, and saying, ‘What will be the next article?’ in a lone which
seems to imply, that if I don’t lay out a pound or two my custom is not
worth having! I reply, ‘nothing else, thank you,’ as politely as I can,
and he immediately inquires again, ‘Anything in shirts, collars,
pocket-’andkerchiefs, braces, draw—?” (in short, etcetera). When I
shake my head he lifts down a great wooden tray, and taking up an
elaborate sort of running noose composed of silk and flannel informs
me that it is ‘termed’ the Californian cravat, and that he (Shirker)
considers it a very gentlemanly thing in ties. I sternly ask him for
change, when slmuting out ‘ Cash !’ (which he pronounces kesh) he
bangs my sovereign down on the counter, partly I suppose to see if it
is a good one, and partly to impress me with an idea that he is a
thoroughly business-like man, who gets through his work before you
can say Jack Robinson. In this last respect, however, his extraor-
dinary energy defeats itself, for the money drops on the floor, and he
loses ten minutes in looking for it. W?hile Kesh, who is a bilious
looking little boy in a round jacket, and horribly precocious at accounts,
is gone for the change to his den (which suggests the idea of a regiment
of cricket stumps escalading a family pew), Smirker thinks I had
better let him put me up the Californian cravat, but as I don’t concur
in that opinion, I am allowed to depart in a great rage, while Smirker
keeps his temper admirably, and bows me out.
“Now, my dear Mr. Punch, I appeal to you, is not this sort of thing a
dreadful nuisance, and haven’t I a right to complain of it ? Why can’t
I go into a shop and buy a pair of gloves without being subject to an
inquisition respecting the rest of my wardrobe. Good Heavens, can’t
a man ask for what he wants! If I were to go over to my baker’s, and
invest in an Abernethy biscuit, do you suppose Mrs. Baker would say
‘ Want anything in rusks, hot rolls, muffins, tops and bottoms?’ or,
‘This is a sweet thing in tea-cakes, Sir! Better let me put you up
that quartern loaf. This is what we term the Bohemian bun, &c.’ Of
course not, and why should touting be tolerated in one case more than
another. And if Messrs. Shirker and Feah keep a shop, why the
deuce can’t they call it a shop instead of a mart or an emporium! Am 1
t.o be dazzled by these high-sounding titles or their gaudy shop front?
Ho they think to impose upon me with their gilded cornices ? Do they
suppose I cannot see through their plate glass. Oh, Mdlles. Lucy,
Laura, Louisa, Beatrice, Bessie, and Blanche, who read these
words in these truly ‘hard times,’ have a care how you ‘shop’ and
beware of wondrous bargains. Every good bonnet, muff, or shawl that
you buy is worth its fair price, neither more nor less, and if you find
Messrs. Shirker and Flam underselling their neighbours, depend on it
something is wrong somewhere, either the goods are inferior or some
poor needlewoman is underpaid. Don’t believe in ‘Bankrupt Sales’ and
‘Tremendous Sacrifices.’ When you see ‘Must be Sold this day,’
remember that the words may apply to you more than to what you see
ticketed. As for the sacrifice, you yourself may be the innocent lamb
ready for immolation. Sacrifice, indeed! if Mr. Shirker were really
making a sacrifice, do you suppose he would go to the expense of red
and yellow printed posters to tell you so ? My dear girls, bargains are
bosh, and ‘Alarming sacrifices’ a delusion anil a snare. If you want
good things, go to a good shop, and pay a fair price for it.
“ Such, my dear Punch, is my advice to the opposite or crinolined
sex who may be just now making their numerous New Year’s pur-
chases. As for myself, I am not likely to make any, but if Messrs.
Shirker and Flam should ask me ‘ What will be the next article ? ’ I
shall refer them to your number for this week. In which, I also wish
you the compliments of the season, and remain,
“ Yours faithfully,
“Jack Easel.”
Revival of the Order of riagellants.
The Yankees say, “ the Britishers whip the rest of the world, and
we whip the Britishers.’
to whip theirselves.”
Now they seem to “calkilate they’re gwine