DOI issue:
October 12, 1861
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16868#0162
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [October 12, 1861.
Mr. Sturgeon. The thoughtful, bachelor would sigh instead of laughing on being advised
to “take under his sheltering wing one who could give him more than he could give her.”
Where, oh where, is so valuable a woman to be found ? Can Spurgeon tell, or is the reply
to come from .Echo ?
MEDICAL MANSLAUG flTER.
Every now and then, especially in the dull
season, a paragraph appears headed “Accidental
Poisoning,” or “ Medicine given by Mistake: ”
on reading which, we learn in nine times out of
ten, that the servant in attendance has given the
sick patient a dose from the wrong bottle, and,
through carelessness or else imperfect ability to
read, has administered some liniment instead of
some cough mixture, and has not until too late
discovered the mistake. Now, there is an Act
of Parliament which enioins that what is poi-
sonous shall be labelled “ Poison,” which is a
short word and easy to be read. But surgeons
very often, and chemists not the less so, instead
of marking lotion bottles with the label “ Poison,”
are rather apt to use fine language and to stick
upon their phials the inscription “ Eor External
application only,” a phrase intelligible doubtless
to nine persons out of ten, but which is likely by
the tenth either not to be spelled through, or not
rightly to be understood. Long words are very
well for educated minds, but for intellects half
cultured short ones are far better; and where
life and death may hang upon the use of them,
surely it were better to use even vulgar phrases
which would be intelligible, than terms more
elegantly chosen, which possibly would not.
Many a half-schooled servant, who might not know
the meaning of “external application,” would
understand the coarser caution “ Not to be took
Inside,” while for persons more illiterate who
might entertain some doubt about the rightly spelt
word “ Poison,” a label printed “ Pison ” would
be much more likely to be quickly understood.
Locomotive Love.— Buss-ing.
A LABOURER NOT WORTHY OF HIS HIRE.
Always foremost in the cause of freedom, Mr. Punch raises his loud
| protest against the arbitrary and tyrannical conduct of the Government,
and specially of Sir George Grey, Home Secretary, in reference to
j the pension of Mr. Field. To pander to the prejudices of the mass is
entirely unworthy of the statesman who should rule and guide it, and
Sir George Grey has taken an opportunity of showing that he shares
the feelings of the English, and of inflicting a blow upon one of the
| representatives of the. spy-system. Mr. Eield has been a policeman,
and has earned a retiring pension of £120 per annum. Mr. Eield has
set up an office for himseli, and proffers his experience as a Detective
to anybody who desires to find out anything, and can pay the required
fees. Mr. Punch has read statements in the papers, and has also
received special information, which lead him to believe that the private
spy-system is carried on with considerable zeal and ingenuity by Mr.
Eield and other professors of the noble art. Why they are to be dis-
couraged, Mr. Punch does not know. If a wife suspects that her
husband’s allegation, on going out, that he has business to attend to; is
not quite correct, why is she to be debarred from the pleasure of hiring
| a spy, who shall follow the husband, note what time he arrives at his
office, and what time he leaves it, whether he has improved his dress,
and whether he goes down to Greenwich or Blackwall and with whom,
! so that the wife may confront him with the proofs of his duplicity, and
| demand to be sent to her mamma ? Or, on the other hand, if a husband
I imagines that all his wife’s interviews during the day are not narrated
| to him, why should he not bring home a detective, who, under the
> guise of a tradesman’s messenger, with some article for Mrs. Slyboots’s
inspection, may become acquainted with her face, and may track her
| from the milliner’s to the grocer’s, and thence to her friend Mrs.
Wiley’s, and thence to Kensington Gardens, and thence to the biscuit
shop, and thence home, and may furnish the husband with all this
information? The Home. Secretary does not appear to respect the
professors of detective science, and simply because Mr. Eield has
placed some heading to his letters which may lead foreigners to believe that
the Government has something to do with the system, the ex-detective’s
pension has been stopped. He clamours, and well he may. Most English-
men do not like spies, and use hard and contemptuous words about them,
and call the system a vile one, and are inclined to kick anybody who
is found listening at a keyhole, tampering with a letter, or boring a hole
in the wall of a room. They even prefer to be deceived, to using that
kind of means of detecting deceit. But this is a coarse, insular way of
f looking at the matter, and we regret that those who have learned in
j France, or elsewhere, to avail themselves of the advance of ingenuity,
and the subtleties of the spy-system, receive an implied slap in the face by
this discouragement to Mr. Field. Sir George Grey should get rid
of his English notions and habits of thought, and be more cosmopolitan.
How the French officials must smile at his fastidiousness! There are
no such prejudices in France, where the man who plays dominoes with
you, or the lady who waltzes with you, or the tailor who measures you,
or the affable stranger who smokes a cigar beside you in the Gardens,
may turn an honest napoleon by learning vour business for the benefit
of somebody else whom it may concern. Why is England to lag behind
the rest of Europe hi the cultivation of Fine Arts ? When Parliament
meets, does Sir George think that he can successfully meet the
question why Field’s pension has been stopped, with the bureaucratic
reply that his circulars threw suspicion on the Government, or the
insular statement that he was disinclined to show favour to an agent of
a system which the people regard as mean, treacherous, and un-English.
Mr. Field evidently thinks that these will be no answers at all.
DARING ACT OF PERAMBULATORS JSP.
We are accustomed to complain of servants, and to declare that they
are careless, inattentive, thoughtless, destructive for the mere pleasure
of destruction, and we don’t know what else. Now we boldly maintain
the contrary. One fact will suffice. We have just been witnessing a j
nursery-girl (she could not have been more than thirteen) wheel a
'perambulator, with two children in it, down the steps by the Duke of \
York’s Column ! It’s a fact. Bump—bump went the slender vehicle,
as it descended each step, and thump—thump went our poor heart
as we watched the gradual descent of the vehicle. We expected an j
accident every minute. We rushed forward to offer our assistance,
hut there was not the slightest occasion for human help. With won-
derful nerve she guided the frail machine. Nothing could have
exceeded her wonderful self-possession but her consummate skill! At
last—and those thumping five minutes were to us more than an age of
stifling suspense—she accomplished the daring act, and it was done as
coolly as you would eat an ice. And most miraculous—not a single
hahy was spilt! We would not have tried that perilous feat—no, not
for all the wills and plate-chests in Coutts’s cellar. Yet we have heard
ladies peevishly declare that servants do not take sufficient care of
their children!
Nigger Proverb.—Massa Debil, him not so hlly white as him be
painted.
Mr. Sturgeon. The thoughtful, bachelor would sigh instead of laughing on being advised
to “take under his sheltering wing one who could give him more than he could give her.”
Where, oh where, is so valuable a woman to be found ? Can Spurgeon tell, or is the reply
to come from .Echo ?
MEDICAL MANSLAUG flTER.
Every now and then, especially in the dull
season, a paragraph appears headed “Accidental
Poisoning,” or “ Medicine given by Mistake: ”
on reading which, we learn in nine times out of
ten, that the servant in attendance has given the
sick patient a dose from the wrong bottle, and,
through carelessness or else imperfect ability to
read, has administered some liniment instead of
some cough mixture, and has not until too late
discovered the mistake. Now, there is an Act
of Parliament which enioins that what is poi-
sonous shall be labelled “ Poison,” which is a
short word and easy to be read. But surgeons
very often, and chemists not the less so, instead
of marking lotion bottles with the label “ Poison,”
are rather apt to use fine language and to stick
upon their phials the inscription “ Eor External
application only,” a phrase intelligible doubtless
to nine persons out of ten, but which is likely by
the tenth either not to be spelled through, or not
rightly to be understood. Long words are very
well for educated minds, but for intellects half
cultured short ones are far better; and where
life and death may hang upon the use of them,
surely it were better to use even vulgar phrases
which would be intelligible, than terms more
elegantly chosen, which possibly would not.
Many a half-schooled servant, who might not know
the meaning of “external application,” would
understand the coarser caution “ Not to be took
Inside,” while for persons more illiterate who
might entertain some doubt about the rightly spelt
word “ Poison,” a label printed “ Pison ” would
be much more likely to be quickly understood.
Locomotive Love.— Buss-ing.
A LABOURER NOT WORTHY OF HIS HIRE.
Always foremost in the cause of freedom, Mr. Punch raises his loud
| protest against the arbitrary and tyrannical conduct of the Government,
and specially of Sir George Grey, Home Secretary, in reference to
j the pension of Mr. Field. To pander to the prejudices of the mass is
entirely unworthy of the statesman who should rule and guide it, and
Sir George Grey has taken an opportunity of showing that he shares
the feelings of the English, and of inflicting a blow upon one of the
| representatives of the. spy-system. Mr. Eield has been a policeman,
and has earned a retiring pension of £120 per annum. Mr. Eield has
set up an office for himseli, and proffers his experience as a Detective
to anybody who desires to find out anything, and can pay the required
fees. Mr. Punch has read statements in the papers, and has also
received special information, which lead him to believe that the private
spy-system is carried on with considerable zeal and ingenuity by Mr.
Eield and other professors of the noble art. Why they are to be dis-
couraged, Mr. Punch does not know. If a wife suspects that her
husband’s allegation, on going out, that he has business to attend to; is
not quite correct, why is she to be debarred from the pleasure of hiring
| a spy, who shall follow the husband, note what time he arrives at his
office, and what time he leaves it, whether he has improved his dress,
and whether he goes down to Greenwich or Blackwall and with whom,
! so that the wife may confront him with the proofs of his duplicity, and
| demand to be sent to her mamma ? Or, on the other hand, if a husband
I imagines that all his wife’s interviews during the day are not narrated
| to him, why should he not bring home a detective, who, under the
> guise of a tradesman’s messenger, with some article for Mrs. Slyboots’s
inspection, may become acquainted with her face, and may track her
| from the milliner’s to the grocer’s, and thence to her friend Mrs.
Wiley’s, and thence to Kensington Gardens, and thence to the biscuit
shop, and thence home, and may furnish the husband with all this
information? The Home. Secretary does not appear to respect the
professors of detective science, and simply because Mr. Eield has
placed some heading to his letters which may lead foreigners to believe that
the Government has something to do with the system, the ex-detective’s
pension has been stopped. He clamours, and well he may. Most English-
men do not like spies, and use hard and contemptuous words about them,
and call the system a vile one, and are inclined to kick anybody who
is found listening at a keyhole, tampering with a letter, or boring a hole
in the wall of a room. They even prefer to be deceived, to using that
kind of means of detecting deceit. But this is a coarse, insular way of
f looking at the matter, and we regret that those who have learned in
j France, or elsewhere, to avail themselves of the advance of ingenuity,
and the subtleties of the spy-system, receive an implied slap in the face by
this discouragement to Mr. Field. Sir George Grey should get rid
of his English notions and habits of thought, and be more cosmopolitan.
How the French officials must smile at his fastidiousness! There are
no such prejudices in France, where the man who plays dominoes with
you, or the lady who waltzes with you, or the tailor who measures you,
or the affable stranger who smokes a cigar beside you in the Gardens,
may turn an honest napoleon by learning vour business for the benefit
of somebody else whom it may concern. Why is England to lag behind
the rest of Europe hi the cultivation of Fine Arts ? When Parliament
meets, does Sir George think that he can successfully meet the
question why Field’s pension has been stopped, with the bureaucratic
reply that his circulars threw suspicion on the Government, or the
insular statement that he was disinclined to show favour to an agent of
a system which the people regard as mean, treacherous, and un-English.
Mr. Field evidently thinks that these will be no answers at all.
DARING ACT OF PERAMBULATORS JSP.
We are accustomed to complain of servants, and to declare that they
are careless, inattentive, thoughtless, destructive for the mere pleasure
of destruction, and we don’t know what else. Now we boldly maintain
the contrary. One fact will suffice. We have just been witnessing a j
nursery-girl (she could not have been more than thirteen) wheel a
'perambulator, with two children in it, down the steps by the Duke of \
York’s Column ! It’s a fact. Bump—bump went the slender vehicle,
as it descended each step, and thump—thump went our poor heart
as we watched the gradual descent of the vehicle. We expected an j
accident every minute. We rushed forward to offer our assistance,
hut there was not the slightest occasion for human help. With won-
derful nerve she guided the frail machine. Nothing could have
exceeded her wonderful self-possession but her consummate skill! At
last—and those thumping five minutes were to us more than an age of
stifling suspense—she accomplished the daring act, and it was done as
coolly as you would eat an ice. And most miraculous—not a single
hahy was spilt! We would not have tried that perilous feat—no, not
for all the wills and plate-chests in Coutts’s cellar. Yet we have heard
ladies peevishly declare that servants do not take sufficient care of
their children!
Nigger Proverb.—Massa Debil, him not so hlly white as him be
painted.