DOI issue:
May 31, 1862
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16869#0230
222
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[May 31, 1862.
WORTHY THE ATTENTION OF POLITE YOUNG SWELLS.
Before you offer your Railway Wrapper to Young Ladies, be sure to see your fellow has not rolled up
in it your toilet necessaries, and sundry articles intmded for the Washerwoman, which he could not
find room for elsewhere.
ESSAYS AND REMARKS.
Robe.—In saying that a tiresome speaker
is voted a bore, allusion is apparently made
to parliamentary practice. Yet neither the
House of Lords nor even the House of
Commons ever votes any one, albeit the
dullest and most prolix, of its orators a bore.
Lokd Chelmsford and Lobd Cr an worth
have never yet been voted bores in the
Upper House, and the Lower House has
hitherto forborne from voting Mr. Scully
or any of the Irish Members bores; indeed
some of them are not exactly bores, because
their extravagance is rather amusing. The
gift of eloquence redeems the Chancellor
oe the Exchequer from being the principal
bore in the House. The Budget is essentially
a bore; the longer the speech that is made
about it the greater the bore, and nearly the
greatest bore on earth is the Income-Tax.
Any sort of lecture is a bore that tells
you nothing hut what you knew already, and
if every preacher bore this in mind, no con-
fregation would ever be bored with a sermon.
ome gentlemen denounce as a bore any
speech or writing which informs them of
what they don’t want to know, and which,
making them no wiser than they were, they
ironically call didactic. What is oiie man’s
bore is another man’s hobby. What a bore is
music or poetry to a man who has none in
his soul—that is to say, in his animal nature!
Dancing is as great a bore to one man as
moral philosophy is to another. Small talk
bores some men worse than metaphysics or
even than theology. The most insufferable
of all bores are wife to husband and husband
to wife, between whom the most ardent
affection does not exist; but when it does,
they are tormented with anxiety on one
another’s account; and that is a bore.
THE TOD-HUNTER.
0, a gentleman found in the very right box
Is that excellent Magistrate called Mr. Knox.
And rightly he sent for a sojourn in quod
The horse-flogging coachman of testy Miss Todd,
Notwithstanding his Missus, with petulant tongue,
Said her horse wanted whipping because he was young.
We ’re glad cruel Greasby is sentenced to go,
Where, if restive, he’ll, too, have some weals that will show,
And we ’re glad that Lord Essex was staunch in pursuit
Of the insolent cove who behaved like a brute.
And we ’re glad that Miss Todd from tne Magistrate drew
A lecture that changed her black looks into olue.
And we’re glad, very glad, much disliking the rod,
That we ’re not a young horse which belongs to Miss Todd,
And we ’re glad that she’s, morally, set in the stocks,
By the excellent Beak who is called Mr. Knox.
GOVERNMENT IN LODGINGS.
What blunderers we English are about our public buildings! We
carry comfort to perfection in our private houses, but in all our public
edifices this is disregarded, and their costliness is hardly greater than
their inconvenience. After voting away millions to build themselves a
house, our Commons are provided with one too small to hold them, and
even this, although bran new, is showing symptoms of decay, and in a
year or two will probably be falling about their ears. Then, not to
speak about that pepper-box affair which we degrade ourselves by
calling our “ National” Gallery, and not to say a word about our
Brompton Boilers, or their elegant twin-brother, the new structure at
South Kensington, just look at the miserable makeshifts we make use
of, and the sums we yearly wast e in renting wretched holes, which we
dignify by grandly calling Public Offices, and wherein we transact the
business of the nation. Why, it came out the other evening in com-
mittee of supply that we are annually paying £27,000 for the lodgings
which we hire for Government to work in; and as these lie scattered
all about the town, it may be fancied what a waste of labour they occa-
sion. In the debate that we refer to—
“ Sir S. M. Peto called attention to the large amount which the Government
were continuing to pay for rent of offices in various parts of the town. He thought
a considerable saving might be effected by concentrating the establishments, and j
he would ask whether the Chief Commissioner for Works considered he was acting j
wisely in continuing a rental of £27,000, instead of having a building in which those j
offices could he concentrated?”
Having put this sensible question no fewer than three times, Sir
Samuel was favoured with half-a-dozen highly gracious words from
Mr. Cowper, admitting that the subject was “ one worthy of consi-
deration,” and that, if by happy accident a site could be obtained, it
might possibly be proper for-—aw—Government to—aw—think a little
more about the matter, and—aw—hear what honourable Members
might—aw—have to say about it. In other words, the question is
shelved until next year, when the Government again will have to ask
the country for the money for their rent. The Government, it is clear,
are like those lazy sluggish fellows who continue to put up with lodgings
that don’t suit them, rather than bear the trouble of having to turn
out. It, is, however, to be hoped that for the credit of the country,
Government ere long will be obliged to build themselves a decent block
of offices, and to move their clerks out of the cellars and back attics in
which they are at present condemned to do their work. If it were j
known what pangs are suffered by the elegant young swells who con- j
descend to read the newspaper at the national expense, if it were known
what tortuous stairs now torture their slim legs, and through what
dark and dingy labyrinths they have to pick their daily way, ere they
can reach the dismal chamber where they pare their filbert nails and
nurture their moustache: if these sufferings were known, the just
wrath of the nation would surely be aroused, and its clerks would be
provided with more suitable apartments than those where they have too
long had the misery to lodge.
Lord John’s Impromptu.
Sent to Uncle Sam in reply to the demand for the Emily St. Pierre.
My first word’s my last,
You’d Miss Emily fast,
And you might have looked after her better;
But now she’s eloped,
Or as you would say, “sloped,”
Pray, Sam, don’t you wish you may get her P
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[May 31, 1862.
WORTHY THE ATTENTION OF POLITE YOUNG SWELLS.
Before you offer your Railway Wrapper to Young Ladies, be sure to see your fellow has not rolled up
in it your toilet necessaries, and sundry articles intmded for the Washerwoman, which he could not
find room for elsewhere.
ESSAYS AND REMARKS.
Robe.—In saying that a tiresome speaker
is voted a bore, allusion is apparently made
to parliamentary practice. Yet neither the
House of Lords nor even the House of
Commons ever votes any one, albeit the
dullest and most prolix, of its orators a bore.
Lokd Chelmsford and Lobd Cr an worth
have never yet been voted bores in the
Upper House, and the Lower House has
hitherto forborne from voting Mr. Scully
or any of the Irish Members bores; indeed
some of them are not exactly bores, because
their extravagance is rather amusing. The
gift of eloquence redeems the Chancellor
oe the Exchequer from being the principal
bore in the House. The Budget is essentially
a bore; the longer the speech that is made
about it the greater the bore, and nearly the
greatest bore on earth is the Income-Tax.
Any sort of lecture is a bore that tells
you nothing hut what you knew already, and
if every preacher bore this in mind, no con-
fregation would ever be bored with a sermon.
ome gentlemen denounce as a bore any
speech or writing which informs them of
what they don’t want to know, and which,
making them no wiser than they were, they
ironically call didactic. What is oiie man’s
bore is another man’s hobby. What a bore is
music or poetry to a man who has none in
his soul—that is to say, in his animal nature!
Dancing is as great a bore to one man as
moral philosophy is to another. Small talk
bores some men worse than metaphysics or
even than theology. The most insufferable
of all bores are wife to husband and husband
to wife, between whom the most ardent
affection does not exist; but when it does,
they are tormented with anxiety on one
another’s account; and that is a bore.
THE TOD-HUNTER.
0, a gentleman found in the very right box
Is that excellent Magistrate called Mr. Knox.
And rightly he sent for a sojourn in quod
The horse-flogging coachman of testy Miss Todd,
Notwithstanding his Missus, with petulant tongue,
Said her horse wanted whipping because he was young.
We ’re glad cruel Greasby is sentenced to go,
Where, if restive, he’ll, too, have some weals that will show,
And we ’re glad that Lord Essex was staunch in pursuit
Of the insolent cove who behaved like a brute.
And we ’re glad that Miss Todd from tne Magistrate drew
A lecture that changed her black looks into olue.
And we’re glad, very glad, much disliking the rod,
That we ’re not a young horse which belongs to Miss Todd,
And we ’re glad that she’s, morally, set in the stocks,
By the excellent Beak who is called Mr. Knox.
GOVERNMENT IN LODGINGS.
What blunderers we English are about our public buildings! We
carry comfort to perfection in our private houses, but in all our public
edifices this is disregarded, and their costliness is hardly greater than
their inconvenience. After voting away millions to build themselves a
house, our Commons are provided with one too small to hold them, and
even this, although bran new, is showing symptoms of decay, and in a
year or two will probably be falling about their ears. Then, not to
speak about that pepper-box affair which we degrade ourselves by
calling our “ National” Gallery, and not to say a word about our
Brompton Boilers, or their elegant twin-brother, the new structure at
South Kensington, just look at the miserable makeshifts we make use
of, and the sums we yearly wast e in renting wretched holes, which we
dignify by grandly calling Public Offices, and wherein we transact the
business of the nation. Why, it came out the other evening in com-
mittee of supply that we are annually paying £27,000 for the lodgings
which we hire for Government to work in; and as these lie scattered
all about the town, it may be fancied what a waste of labour they occa-
sion. In the debate that we refer to—
“ Sir S. M. Peto called attention to the large amount which the Government
were continuing to pay for rent of offices in various parts of the town. He thought
a considerable saving might be effected by concentrating the establishments, and j
he would ask whether the Chief Commissioner for Works considered he was acting j
wisely in continuing a rental of £27,000, instead of having a building in which those j
offices could he concentrated?”
Having put this sensible question no fewer than three times, Sir
Samuel was favoured with half-a-dozen highly gracious words from
Mr. Cowper, admitting that the subject was “ one worthy of consi-
deration,” and that, if by happy accident a site could be obtained, it
might possibly be proper for-—aw—Government to—aw—think a little
more about the matter, and—aw—hear what honourable Members
might—aw—have to say about it. In other words, the question is
shelved until next year, when the Government again will have to ask
the country for the money for their rent. The Government, it is clear,
are like those lazy sluggish fellows who continue to put up with lodgings
that don’t suit them, rather than bear the trouble of having to turn
out. It, is, however, to be hoped that for the credit of the country,
Government ere long will be obliged to build themselves a decent block
of offices, and to move their clerks out of the cellars and back attics in
which they are at present condemned to do their work. If it were j
known what pangs are suffered by the elegant young swells who con- j
descend to read the newspaper at the national expense, if it were known
what tortuous stairs now torture their slim legs, and through what
dark and dingy labyrinths they have to pick their daily way, ere they
can reach the dismal chamber where they pare their filbert nails and
nurture their moustache: if these sufferings were known, the just
wrath of the nation would surely be aroused, and its clerks would be
provided with more suitable apartments than those where they have too
long had the misery to lodge.
Lord John’s Impromptu.
Sent to Uncle Sam in reply to the demand for the Emily St. Pierre.
My first word’s my last,
You’d Miss Emily fast,
And you might have looked after her better;
But now she’s eloped,
Or as you would say, “sloped,”
Pray, Sam, don’t you wish you may get her P