DOI issue:
August 31, 1861
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16868#0097
August 31, 1861.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
85
LATEST FROM RAMSGATE.
? Edwin lounged on the
pier to get a relish for his
dinner, after swallowing two
monstrous bloaters for his
breakfast, he said to his An-
gelina, “Tell me something
funny, dearest, and so excite
the cachinatory muscles of my
diaphragm, for I have been
tola that laughing is provo-
cative of appetite.”
Thus bidden, as in duty
bound, the wife of his fond
bosom peered for a brief mo-
ment to the seaward of the
pier, and receiving inspiration
from the freshening breeze
that blew there, whispered,
“Canst say, love, why the
pleasant island of Ceylon is
so favourite a resort for mar-
riageable ladies ? ”
Edwin, thus appealed to
scratched his nose and stroked
his whiskers, but not finding
his wits sharpened by either
of those processes, was forced
to let his wife explain that the
answer to her riddle was that
the island she referred to was full of Cingalese. Observing his blank looks, she added in
compassion, “Now, dearest, don’t be stupid, can’t you put an ‘h’ in, and pronounce it
1 Single he’s ’ ? ”
Eeeling it expected of him, Edwin tried to laugh, but alas! he could do little more than
get up a faint giggle. Whereupon his placens uxor made another daring effort to excite
nis risibility, by asking “ Who is the most dangerous young lady in a ball-room ? ” and
adding in the same breath, “ Why, of course, dear, a Lucinda.”
Conscious of his density, Edwin tried his best to look as though he understood her; but,
struggle as he might for it, the giggle would not come, until, patting with her tiny hand his
sorely puzzled brow, said Angelina, “ you are sadly dull, dear love, this morning. Can’t
you divide that Christian name, and call it a loose-cinder /”
A LAY ON A LADDER.
Louis Napoleon, is it true
What Roebuck has declared ; that you
Have struck a bargain to call home
Your red-legged garrison from Rome,
Getting, for Rome’s evacuation,
Sardinia as consideration ?
A ladder Eancy views you in
The act of poising on your chin
The Holy Father at the top
Of that uncomfortable prop.
A zany of the lower class
Thus sometimes balances an Ass.
That Clown, ere he at last uprears
The Creature of extensive ears,
To coax what cash he can frosa out
The pocket of expectant lout,
K eeps crying “ Twopence more, and thep.
Up goes the donkey, Gentlemen.”
You, whilst you show the ladder-feat,
Seem to propose another treat
To Italy’s impatient eye:
“ Another cession ! ” is your cry •
And then you’ll crown her eager hope :
“ Sardinia—and down goes the Pope ! ”
Victor-Emmanuel, if he cede
Sardinia, will be fit indeed
On ladder to be poised by Clown.
A Donkey! who will lose the Crown
For which he gave Savoy and Nice,
And now will break up Europe’s peace.
He is not such an Ass as that,
He will not be so gross a flat
As such a heavy price to pay
For what a war will take away,
And—who can tell ?—perhaps restore
To Pope and Kaiser as before.
A SAMPLE OE SCOTCH CHAPE.
The Scotch, or Scottish, people (will some linguist please tell us
which adjective is right?) have not the reputation of being vastly witty,
but they have the reputation of being fond of money, and when they
possess it, of being loth to throw away so much as a bawbee. But
that there are some exceptions to the national rule is shown, we think,
in some degree by this advertisement, which a correspondent cuts for
us from a north country newspaper:—
YU ANTED, oy a Volunteer Rifle Corps, in the immediate neighbour-
* * hood of Glasgow, a TARGET for Ball Practice. Must be very strong, particu-
larly in the centre, as their present Target has had the ball’s eye completely blown
Dut, from the incessant hitting to which it has been subjected. Will be glad to
exchange with any of the Glasgow Companies, whose Targets are generally in a
state of first-rate preservation at the bull’s eye.
Address “ Bull’s Run,” Herald Office.
To please the frugal mind of an ordinary Scotchman, a joke, to be
enjoyed, must be at the expense of some one other than himself. But
here we have a Scotchman incurring the expense of inserting an adver-
tisement, that he may thereby gain insertion into print of his small jest.
What incites him to poke fun at the Glasgow Volunteers we have
neither means nor wish to ascertain ; and as we do not share his feeling
towards the corps; we shall abstain from saying anything to bring them
into ridicule. If it be true that their targets are in “ first-rate preser-
vation,” we can only say we hope their shooting will improve; and as
Sitice makes men perfect, the oftener they keep trying to blow their
’s-eye out, the more likely are they to succeed in time in doing it.
Perhaps the advertiser’s chaff may stir them to fresh efforts, and if so,
: there will be little reason to complain of it. Still we scarce think that
our Riflemen enhance their reputation by making butts of one another
through the columns of a newspaper, and putting into print small jokes
which hardly seem deserving ot it. In their military capacity bayonets,
not pens, are the steel weapons they should stick to; and the only
“ leaded ” matter they should care to meddle with ought to come not
from the type-founder, but the regulation bullet-maker.
legal metaphysics.
It is to be feared that the law of domicile will never be satisfactorily
Settled, because it involves the perplexing question of Free Will.
THE COMPLAINT OF CHRISTOPHER SLY.
Alone of the late meetings of the Social Science Association at
Dublin, Dr. P. W. Mac rest, of Waterford, who is evidently a water-
drinker, read a paper on the subject of Dipsomania, the new social
scientific name wnich has been applied to the passion for intoxicating
drink. It is a compliment to the morality, if not to the intelligence, of
the Pumps who spout observations on Dipsomania, to say that they do
not know what they are talking about. Dipsomania, of course they
know very well, means a mania consisting in uncontrollable thirst; but
they imagine that habitual thirst is the cause of habitual drunkenness.
Evidently they are unacquainted with the nigger’s celebrated distinc-
tion between “ drinkee for drunkee and drinkee for dry.” Drinkee tor
drunkee is what they denominate Dipsomania • whereas that word is
only properly applicable to inordinate drinkee for dry. Dipsomania is
one tiling, tipsy-mania another thing; and the latter is what they mean
by the former. It is gratifying, however, to find any philosophers so
innocent of all knowledge of the nature of intoxication as those must
be who expatiate on Dipsomania. Philosophers are too commonly dis-
posed to meditate behind a pipe, over a glass of grog, and under those
circumstances to acquire by practical experience, _ a profounder
acquaintance with the philosophy of drunkenness than with any other. ,
Disinterested Advice to Ladies of a Literary Turn.
Never marry an author. He is sure at some time or other to put
you in his books, and the consequence is, yon will come out, like those
rare botanical specimens similarly preserved, as flat, and as dead as
possible. Not a fraction of colour will there be left in you! There will
only be the withered outline, by which you will be able to trace your
original beauty.
In fact, a wife to an author is only so much book-muslin to enable
him to dress up his characters with. To clothe others, the wretch does
not scruple to cut up his own wife.—The Hermit of the Haymarket.
A HOPEFUL SENIOR.
“ Eh ? by Jove, Sir, a new lease ! ” Such was the exclamation of a
sanguine old buck, who, before his toilet mirror, discovered by the aid
of a double eye-glass, one black hair among his white whiskers.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
85
LATEST FROM RAMSGATE.
? Edwin lounged on the
pier to get a relish for his
dinner, after swallowing two
monstrous bloaters for his
breakfast, he said to his An-
gelina, “Tell me something
funny, dearest, and so excite
the cachinatory muscles of my
diaphragm, for I have been
tola that laughing is provo-
cative of appetite.”
Thus bidden, as in duty
bound, the wife of his fond
bosom peered for a brief mo-
ment to the seaward of the
pier, and receiving inspiration
from the freshening breeze
that blew there, whispered,
“Canst say, love, why the
pleasant island of Ceylon is
so favourite a resort for mar-
riageable ladies ? ”
Edwin, thus appealed to
scratched his nose and stroked
his whiskers, but not finding
his wits sharpened by either
of those processes, was forced
to let his wife explain that the
answer to her riddle was that
the island she referred to was full of Cingalese. Observing his blank looks, she added in
compassion, “Now, dearest, don’t be stupid, can’t you put an ‘h’ in, and pronounce it
1 Single he’s ’ ? ”
Eeeling it expected of him, Edwin tried to laugh, but alas! he could do little more than
get up a faint giggle. Whereupon his placens uxor made another daring effort to excite
nis risibility, by asking “ Who is the most dangerous young lady in a ball-room ? ” and
adding in the same breath, “ Why, of course, dear, a Lucinda.”
Conscious of his density, Edwin tried his best to look as though he understood her; but,
struggle as he might for it, the giggle would not come, until, patting with her tiny hand his
sorely puzzled brow, said Angelina, “ you are sadly dull, dear love, this morning. Can’t
you divide that Christian name, and call it a loose-cinder /”
A LAY ON A LADDER.
Louis Napoleon, is it true
What Roebuck has declared ; that you
Have struck a bargain to call home
Your red-legged garrison from Rome,
Getting, for Rome’s evacuation,
Sardinia as consideration ?
A ladder Eancy views you in
The act of poising on your chin
The Holy Father at the top
Of that uncomfortable prop.
A zany of the lower class
Thus sometimes balances an Ass.
That Clown, ere he at last uprears
The Creature of extensive ears,
To coax what cash he can frosa out
The pocket of expectant lout,
K eeps crying “ Twopence more, and thep.
Up goes the donkey, Gentlemen.”
You, whilst you show the ladder-feat,
Seem to propose another treat
To Italy’s impatient eye:
“ Another cession ! ” is your cry •
And then you’ll crown her eager hope :
“ Sardinia—and down goes the Pope ! ”
Victor-Emmanuel, if he cede
Sardinia, will be fit indeed
On ladder to be poised by Clown.
A Donkey! who will lose the Crown
For which he gave Savoy and Nice,
And now will break up Europe’s peace.
He is not such an Ass as that,
He will not be so gross a flat
As such a heavy price to pay
For what a war will take away,
And—who can tell ?—perhaps restore
To Pope and Kaiser as before.
A SAMPLE OE SCOTCH CHAPE.
The Scotch, or Scottish, people (will some linguist please tell us
which adjective is right?) have not the reputation of being vastly witty,
but they have the reputation of being fond of money, and when they
possess it, of being loth to throw away so much as a bawbee. But
that there are some exceptions to the national rule is shown, we think,
in some degree by this advertisement, which a correspondent cuts for
us from a north country newspaper:—
YU ANTED, oy a Volunteer Rifle Corps, in the immediate neighbour-
* * hood of Glasgow, a TARGET for Ball Practice. Must be very strong, particu-
larly in the centre, as their present Target has had the ball’s eye completely blown
Dut, from the incessant hitting to which it has been subjected. Will be glad to
exchange with any of the Glasgow Companies, whose Targets are generally in a
state of first-rate preservation at the bull’s eye.
Address “ Bull’s Run,” Herald Office.
To please the frugal mind of an ordinary Scotchman, a joke, to be
enjoyed, must be at the expense of some one other than himself. But
here we have a Scotchman incurring the expense of inserting an adver-
tisement, that he may thereby gain insertion into print of his small jest.
What incites him to poke fun at the Glasgow Volunteers we have
neither means nor wish to ascertain ; and as we do not share his feeling
towards the corps; we shall abstain from saying anything to bring them
into ridicule. If it be true that their targets are in “ first-rate preser-
vation,” we can only say we hope their shooting will improve; and as
Sitice makes men perfect, the oftener they keep trying to blow their
’s-eye out, the more likely are they to succeed in time in doing it.
Perhaps the advertiser’s chaff may stir them to fresh efforts, and if so,
: there will be little reason to complain of it. Still we scarce think that
our Riflemen enhance their reputation by making butts of one another
through the columns of a newspaper, and putting into print small jokes
which hardly seem deserving ot it. In their military capacity bayonets,
not pens, are the steel weapons they should stick to; and the only
“ leaded ” matter they should care to meddle with ought to come not
from the type-founder, but the regulation bullet-maker.
legal metaphysics.
It is to be feared that the law of domicile will never be satisfactorily
Settled, because it involves the perplexing question of Free Will.
THE COMPLAINT OF CHRISTOPHER SLY.
Alone of the late meetings of the Social Science Association at
Dublin, Dr. P. W. Mac rest, of Waterford, who is evidently a water-
drinker, read a paper on the subject of Dipsomania, the new social
scientific name wnich has been applied to the passion for intoxicating
drink. It is a compliment to the morality, if not to the intelligence, of
the Pumps who spout observations on Dipsomania, to say that they do
not know what they are talking about. Dipsomania, of course they
know very well, means a mania consisting in uncontrollable thirst; but
they imagine that habitual thirst is the cause of habitual drunkenness.
Evidently they are unacquainted with the nigger’s celebrated distinc-
tion between “ drinkee for drunkee and drinkee for dry.” Drinkee tor
drunkee is what they denominate Dipsomania • whereas that word is
only properly applicable to inordinate drinkee for dry. Dipsomania is
one tiling, tipsy-mania another thing; and the latter is what they mean
by the former. It is gratifying, however, to find any philosophers so
innocent of all knowledge of the nature of intoxication as those must
be who expatiate on Dipsomania. Philosophers are too commonly dis-
posed to meditate behind a pipe, over a glass of grog, and under those
circumstances to acquire by practical experience, _ a profounder
acquaintance with the philosophy of drunkenness than with any other. ,
Disinterested Advice to Ladies of a Literary Turn.
Never marry an author. He is sure at some time or other to put
you in his books, and the consequence is, yon will come out, like those
rare botanical specimens similarly preserved, as flat, and as dead as
possible. Not a fraction of colour will there be left in you! There will
only be the withered outline, by which you will be able to trace your
original beauty.
In fact, a wife to an author is only so much book-muslin to enable
him to dress up his characters with. To clothe others, the wretch does
not scruple to cut up his own wife.—The Hermit of the Haymarket.
A HOPEFUL SENIOR.
“ Eh ? by Jove, Sir, a new lease ! ” Such was the exclamation of a
sanguine old buck, who, before his toilet mirror, discovered by the aid
of a double eye-glass, one black hair among his white whiskers.