DOI issue:
September 14, 1861
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16868#0123
September 14, 1861.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
FROM OUR SENSITIVE CONTRIBUTOR.
“ Boulogne-upon-the-Sea.
R. Punch, I can hardly hurt
myself to write in reply to
what I must call your heart-
less letter, suggesting that
there are pens and ink in
Prance, and that literary
composition may be trans-
mitted by the post. Perhaps
a severe course of novel-
reading here may have ren-
dered me more open than
usual to the softer emotions,
but I assure yon that if I
had not had my mouth full
of shrimps (sauterelles, they
call them here] when I opened
your letter, it would have
brought the tears into my
eyes. I admit that the Bank-
note was crisp and hand-
some, but, to adopt the lan-
■ guage of one of the authors
who are helping me to kill a
fortnight or so, ‘ little do the
haughty aristocrats compre-
hend our sensations, when
they think to smother our
wounded feelings in a snow-
shower of Bank-paper.’ You
are at liberty to try the ex-
periment, however, Mr.
Punch, for sufferance is the
badge of all our tribe.
" Sir, there are pens and ink in Prance, and literary composition may be transmitted by the
post (and I wish that you would have your literary compositions properly weighed before
posting them, as it is extremely objectionable to find ‘ insufficiently stamped ’ on one’s letters,
and ‘ Postage, one franc,’ in one’s bills ; mind that), and so far the Court is quite with you, as
the Judge said to the stammering barrister who began with, ‘ My unfortunate client-’
“ But I have come here for my health, and I am not in the least inclined to destroy the
ood effect which the tough meat, ungenerous wines, and liquid odours of Prance are pro-
ucing on my frame. I shall not send ‘literary composition,’ and what in the world has
made you so precious fine that you can’t call it ‘ copy ’ ? 1 know that London, just now, is
given over to Snobs, and that Snobs love words as long as their ears; but I did not expect
you to grow genteel. Literary composition, indeed! Do you expect me to acknowledge the
tin as ‘pecuniary compensation’? I think yon had better come over here for ‘periodical
relaxation,’ you stuck-up old Bloater !
“ Sir, you’ll have no copy. And, Sir, if you want to know why, I will tell you. Because
I have no time to write any. And, as you may wish for details, here is a diluted page from
my diary, scribbled while I finish my last cigar, and, in a state of ultra-deshabille, all but
Paradisaical (there’s a long word for you. Bloater) cool for my spring-mattrass :—
“Up at eight. As I am growing a moustache, I save the time I used to waste in shaving.
Look out at the window, and wonder when it will be high-water. Abuse those tinkling
bells round the horses’ necks. What a fool that lover is in Shakspeare who says he is
‘avized’ to give a woman ‘music o’ mornings’! Nothing is more irritating and out of
place, except music in the evenings. N.B. Very glad to read in Spohr’s Life (don’t spell it
Sphor, if you print this) that he abused Beethoven’s music. I do the same. Get down
to breakfast at nine, earlier or later, because there is a young lady with a handsome fortune
staying at my hotel, and I try to encounter her as she also goes down to breakfast. She is
in No. 37.
“ From nine to ten, breakfast. Letters to be read, including heartless ones hinting at
literary composition. By the way, I foolishly got a notion, one day, that my letters at
Chambers were accumulating, and might be important; so wrote to a friend to look over
them, and send me what I ought to see. He was away, and sent his friend, who didn’t like
to open anything, and inclosed all, not paying the postage. I had nine francs to fork out,
and this was the gain:—
“ 1. A parson’s perforated card, for ‘only one shilling’ for a new church at Grimesbury-
cxm-Bodgeleigh.
“2.)
“ 3. f Circulars from rival candidates for the office of Director of the Fireside and
“ 4. ( Circumnavigating Life Assurance Office, in which I am assured.
by my pretty friend in No. 37, else, the scolder
has fine eyes, and will have £250 per annum.
I am glad I have this note, though nine francs is
money.
“ 12. Invitation to join a Rifle Corps.
“13. Notice from the New River Company
that they will cut my water off if 1 don’t send
8s. 6d. by a day long past.
“ There, Sir, that’s what I got by being a foolish
fidget, and not leaving letters to take care of
themselves. You say this is a digression. Who
cares if it is ?
“Prom ten to twelve, lounge about, and smoke
cigars. What atrocities are the cigars of the
Debit ! I wish they ’d try the Credit for a
change. Bv the way. Bloater, you might send
me over a lot. You must know somebody who
would smuggle them, but mind you do them up
well, as the sea-air plays the deuce with baccy.
Do ’em in sheet lead—get it at Twining’s.
“ Prom eleven to twelve, lounge about, finally
reaching the sea. Then there’s a lot of time lost,
waiting your turn, and losing it while you are
flirt in o' with an acquaintance. You seldom get
back before one, and then you want half an hour
to wash the salt out of your hair, and become
presentable. No. 37 don’t like the short hair of
the day, which is a pity, for drying one’s wig is a
bore.
“ This, and a cigar, and a walk, bring one on
to the afternoon, and then there is a good deal to
be done—perhaps a drive, or going to change
novels, or to be in the way during shopping, and
explain eleven times in an hour that ten centimes
are a penny, and consequently that fifty are not
exactly half-a-crown. Or the ladies want to look
into tiie churches, which are cool and pleasant
places enough. Or, if the day is too warm for
Englishwomen to go shopping (and warm indeed
must be the day that stops that) one lounges up
to Mr. Signet’s, or down to Mr. Cheerydrop’s,
to grab at the English newspapers, as they are
brought in from the boat—how precious stupid
your papers are, by the way, just now. If it
were not for the fires and the accidents, and the
murders, I don’t believe you could get a paper
made up, which shows what sort of people must
be left in town, journalising. This brings us on
until it is time for dinner, or at least to dress,
and by the way again, my Bloater, would you
when you s^nd the cigars, put in a set of new
studs for me, rather handsome, you understand,
but I leave them to your taste ? I think No. 37
has an eye for jewellery, and my studs are not
very stunning ? Don’t forget this. Well, dinner
takes till half-past eight, and then in another
half hour or so the ladies have contrived to put
on their hats, and we go on the pier. This is a
narrow wooden strip, that nearly reaches to the
sea, when the sea is very high indeed, and there
are 16,000 English in Boulogne, and they all will
come and shove and jostle one another here
every night, and the way the women (you know
what Englishwomen are to one another) rush at
the few seats there are, and look at those who
look at them, is the only fun, for an unfortunate
male, except to laugh at a vocal wretch who
howls French songs to a guitar, and sends round
the hat every five minutes. After this, one gets
back to the hotel, and a quiet weed, or a little
whist, finishes off the day.
“There. Now I hope you are ashamed of
your baseness in asking for ‘ literary composition.’
You may do what you like with this letter, but
you ’ll get nothing else, for ever so long, from
“ 6. List of new stations of the Commissionaires of London.
“7. Blobbins’s ‘ bill delivered ’—hopes I will settle before I leave town. Sorry to have
disobliged Blobbins.
“ S. Invitation to take the chair at a lecture on Geology before the Tiddleywinks Literary
and Scientific Institution.
“ 9. A piece of cloth, as a pattern for trousers, which the sender will make to measure for
17«. 6cl., cash.
“ 10. List of prices of stationery. (There are pens and ink in Prance.)
“ 11. Scolding note from- never mind. I did promise to call. But I will send her a
newspaper from here. At least, it depends on the amount of good taste that may be shown
: Your Sensitive Contributor.’
Not ao Wise as he Seems.
M. Chevalier has been replying, unwisely,
to the Constable of Dover. We rather thought
well of the above French gentleman, but now
doubt his political soundness.. As in other days,
is Chevalier synonymous with Pretender ?
FROM OUR SENSITIVE CONTRIBUTOR.
“ Boulogne-upon-the-Sea.
R. Punch, I can hardly hurt
myself to write in reply to
what I must call your heart-
less letter, suggesting that
there are pens and ink in
Prance, and that literary
composition may be trans-
mitted by the post. Perhaps
a severe course of novel-
reading here may have ren-
dered me more open than
usual to the softer emotions,
but I assure yon that if I
had not had my mouth full
of shrimps (sauterelles, they
call them here] when I opened
your letter, it would have
brought the tears into my
eyes. I admit that the Bank-
note was crisp and hand-
some, but, to adopt the lan-
■ guage of one of the authors
who are helping me to kill a
fortnight or so, ‘ little do the
haughty aristocrats compre-
hend our sensations, when
they think to smother our
wounded feelings in a snow-
shower of Bank-paper.’ You
are at liberty to try the ex-
periment, however, Mr.
Punch, for sufferance is the
badge of all our tribe.
" Sir, there are pens and ink in Prance, and literary composition may be transmitted by the
post (and I wish that you would have your literary compositions properly weighed before
posting them, as it is extremely objectionable to find ‘ insufficiently stamped ’ on one’s letters,
and ‘ Postage, one franc,’ in one’s bills ; mind that), and so far the Court is quite with you, as
the Judge said to the stammering barrister who began with, ‘ My unfortunate client-’
“ But I have come here for my health, and I am not in the least inclined to destroy the
ood effect which the tough meat, ungenerous wines, and liquid odours of Prance are pro-
ucing on my frame. I shall not send ‘literary composition,’ and what in the world has
made you so precious fine that you can’t call it ‘ copy ’ ? 1 know that London, just now, is
given over to Snobs, and that Snobs love words as long as their ears; but I did not expect
you to grow genteel. Literary composition, indeed! Do you expect me to acknowledge the
tin as ‘pecuniary compensation’? I think yon had better come over here for ‘periodical
relaxation,’ you stuck-up old Bloater !
“ Sir, you’ll have no copy. And, Sir, if you want to know why, I will tell you. Because
I have no time to write any. And, as you may wish for details, here is a diluted page from
my diary, scribbled while I finish my last cigar, and, in a state of ultra-deshabille, all but
Paradisaical (there’s a long word for you. Bloater) cool for my spring-mattrass :—
“Up at eight. As I am growing a moustache, I save the time I used to waste in shaving.
Look out at the window, and wonder when it will be high-water. Abuse those tinkling
bells round the horses’ necks. What a fool that lover is in Shakspeare who says he is
‘avized’ to give a woman ‘music o’ mornings’! Nothing is more irritating and out of
place, except music in the evenings. N.B. Very glad to read in Spohr’s Life (don’t spell it
Sphor, if you print this) that he abused Beethoven’s music. I do the same. Get down
to breakfast at nine, earlier or later, because there is a young lady with a handsome fortune
staying at my hotel, and I try to encounter her as she also goes down to breakfast. She is
in No. 37.
“ From nine to ten, breakfast. Letters to be read, including heartless ones hinting at
literary composition. By the way, I foolishly got a notion, one day, that my letters at
Chambers were accumulating, and might be important; so wrote to a friend to look over
them, and send me what I ought to see. He was away, and sent his friend, who didn’t like
to open anything, and inclosed all, not paying the postage. I had nine francs to fork out,
and this was the gain:—
“ 1. A parson’s perforated card, for ‘only one shilling’ for a new church at Grimesbury-
cxm-Bodgeleigh.
“2.)
“ 3. f Circulars from rival candidates for the office of Director of the Fireside and
“ 4. ( Circumnavigating Life Assurance Office, in which I am assured.
by my pretty friend in No. 37, else, the scolder
has fine eyes, and will have £250 per annum.
I am glad I have this note, though nine francs is
money.
“ 12. Invitation to join a Rifle Corps.
“13. Notice from the New River Company
that they will cut my water off if 1 don’t send
8s. 6d. by a day long past.
“ There, Sir, that’s what I got by being a foolish
fidget, and not leaving letters to take care of
themselves. You say this is a digression. Who
cares if it is ?
“Prom ten to twelve, lounge about, and smoke
cigars. What atrocities are the cigars of the
Debit ! I wish they ’d try the Credit for a
change. Bv the way. Bloater, you might send
me over a lot. You must know somebody who
would smuggle them, but mind you do them up
well, as the sea-air plays the deuce with baccy.
Do ’em in sheet lead—get it at Twining’s.
“ Prom eleven to twelve, lounge about, finally
reaching the sea. Then there’s a lot of time lost,
waiting your turn, and losing it while you are
flirt in o' with an acquaintance. You seldom get
back before one, and then you want half an hour
to wash the salt out of your hair, and become
presentable. No. 37 don’t like the short hair of
the day, which is a pity, for drying one’s wig is a
bore.
“ This, and a cigar, and a walk, bring one on
to the afternoon, and then there is a good deal to
be done—perhaps a drive, or going to change
novels, or to be in the way during shopping, and
explain eleven times in an hour that ten centimes
are a penny, and consequently that fifty are not
exactly half-a-crown. Or the ladies want to look
into tiie churches, which are cool and pleasant
places enough. Or, if the day is too warm for
Englishwomen to go shopping (and warm indeed
must be the day that stops that) one lounges up
to Mr. Signet’s, or down to Mr. Cheerydrop’s,
to grab at the English newspapers, as they are
brought in from the boat—how precious stupid
your papers are, by the way, just now. If it
were not for the fires and the accidents, and the
murders, I don’t believe you could get a paper
made up, which shows what sort of people must
be left in town, journalising. This brings us on
until it is time for dinner, or at least to dress,
and by the way again, my Bloater, would you
when you s^nd the cigars, put in a set of new
studs for me, rather handsome, you understand,
but I leave them to your taste ? I think No. 37
has an eye for jewellery, and my studs are not
very stunning ? Don’t forget this. Well, dinner
takes till half-past eight, and then in another
half hour or so the ladies have contrived to put
on their hats, and we go on the pier. This is a
narrow wooden strip, that nearly reaches to the
sea, when the sea is very high indeed, and there
are 16,000 English in Boulogne, and they all will
come and shove and jostle one another here
every night, and the way the women (you know
what Englishwomen are to one another) rush at
the few seats there are, and look at those who
look at them, is the only fun, for an unfortunate
male, except to laugh at a vocal wretch who
howls French songs to a guitar, and sends round
the hat every five minutes. After this, one gets
back to the hotel, and a quiet weed, or a little
whist, finishes off the day.
“There. Now I hope you are ashamed of
your baseness in asking for ‘ literary composition.’
You may do what you like with this letter, but
you ’ll get nothing else, for ever so long, from
“ 6. List of new stations of the Commissionaires of London.
“7. Blobbins’s ‘ bill delivered ’—hopes I will settle before I leave town. Sorry to have
disobliged Blobbins.
“ S. Invitation to take the chair at a lecture on Geology before the Tiddleywinks Literary
and Scientific Institution.
“ 9. A piece of cloth, as a pattern for trousers, which the sender will make to measure for
17«. 6cl., cash.
“ 10. List of prices of stationery. (There are pens and ink in Prance.)
“ 11. Scolding note from- never mind. I did promise to call. But I will send her a
newspaper from here. At least, it depends on the amount of good taste that may be shown
: Your Sensitive Contributor.’
Not ao Wise as he Seems.
M. Chevalier has been replying, unwisely,
to the Constable of Dover. We rather thought
well of the above French gentleman, but now
doubt his political soundness.. As in other days,
is Chevalier synonymous with Pretender ?