Punch (42.1862)

244

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[Junk 21, 1862.

he was prosecuted and a heavy sentence was passed, which, however,
the Government remitted, pardoning Mk. Taylor, and making the
prosecutors pay the expenses. Then some of the loose fish, who, under
the name of Garibaldians, behaved as loose fish generally do, landed
in the island and plundered. Mr. Taylor considers that as the King
of Italy recognised Garibaldi’s acts, and the latter recognised the
acts of his men, the King ought to compensate the Englishman. Italian
Law and Government are appealed to, but they do not see their way.
This was a capital opportunity for the enemies of the King of Italy,
and they came out well, and loud Opposition cheers marked every word
used against the Italian Government—cheers which it may be convenient
that the people of England should remember. Mr. Layard, Mr.
Gladstone, Mr. Roundell Palker, and Lord Palmerston all
came out in defence of the Italians, while allowing the hardships of
Mr. Taylor’s case ; Mr. Cavendish Bentinck, Mr. Kinglake, Mr.
Bovtll, and Mr. Disraeli did their best on the other side. The debate
was a very good one, law and argument and politics being mixed and
agreeably spiced with personalities. The result is, that Lord Palmers-
ton held out some hopes of kind treatment to Mr. Taylor, and the
Conservative Opposition held out none to the Italians.

Sir Robert Peel threw over divers Irish Bills, complaining that
though the Scotch can stop and fight their measures till two in the
morning, the Irish always want to shut up at midnight. Perhaps the
Irish brew their whiskey-toddy stronger than the Scotch, and conse-
quently are more advanced at the earlier date.

TAKING A TURN AT HANDEL.

nomalous as it may
sound, Mr. Punch
hates handle’s music,
but he loves the
music of Handel.
The music made by
turning the handle of
a barrel-organ is not
at all the kind of
music Mr. Punch
enjoys a turn at. But
Mr. Punch the other
evening attended a
rehearsal where a
couple of thousand
singers took a turn
at Handel; and such
was the effect on Mr.
Punch’s ears and
mind, that he came
away determined to
make record of the
fact, inasmuch as one
good turn deserves
another.

People cannot well
be blind to the beau-
ties of good music
when they sing so
well at sight as those did at this rehearsal. Chorusses that long ago
have passed clean out of memory, and seldom have been sung since
Handel himself led them, were “rendered” in slang phrase, with a
fire and a precision that a rifleman might envy. One from Hercules
was given with a force it would have puzzled even Hercules to give to
it; and one from St. Cecilia's Day was sung in such a way that, being
a good musician, the Saintess would no doubt have given her ears to
hear it. There was a laughing chorus too (words written by Milton,
music put by Handel—a fitting combination); and just fancy how a
laugh of two thousand horse power must have startled the staid echoes
of solemn Exeter Hall! The singers indeed laughed with such a hearty
vehemence that Mr. Punch began to think that by some traitor in his
printing-office one of the jokes in his forthcoming number had been
sent to them; and the round of applause with which the laughter ended
very naturally served to strengthen this idea.

Mr. Punch knows no more of musical slangography than he does ol
Chinese chaff, or the talk of Eeejee fast men. So he will not plague
his readers by describing how the contrapuntal passages were rendered,
what pains were bestowed upon the melodic progressions, and how well
the tempi were preserved throughout. It is enough for him to hint
that if the performance at the Festival at all equal the promise, it will
certainly deserve success, and will probably command it.

So Mr. Punch would say to every musical young lady. Haste thee,
N ymph, and bring with thee Pa and Ma and sisters three: Cram thy
carriage full inside. On the box let Charley ride. Frederick,
Arthur, and Augustus, if they’ve business to detain them, may rattle j
down by train and meet you in the transept. Come all ye who music 1

M A Rri N PI tin.

love, and would its pleasures prove. Come and hear the Giant Handel,
and “ see what mighty strides he takes ” in his great works. Listen
for a while to his harmonious thunder, and let your ears be filled with
sounds that for a lifetime may prove a pleasant memory.

MRS. HARRIS.

On the Report of a Row in “ Muster Derby’s 'ouse over the way "

(where she ’elps).

Quarrels indeed! Don’t talk to me ! Drat such gossip, and tittle-
tattle !

Wich it’s well known I ’ates tale-bearers, and spies, and all such cattle.

What is it to them what goes on in the ’ouse that I runs arrands and
chares for ?

I’m sure their tongues is no scandal as respectable parties cares for.

Suppose our gentlemen does fall out, wich young Walpole is that
aggravatin’,—

(Though you’d think butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, his case when
you hears him statin’)

And suppose Muster Dizzy that ’ad the fust floors, have gone up to
the attics—

(Wich I’m proud to wait on him, though five pairs o’ stairs do come
’ard on my rheumatics).

If our gents has had their little tiffs about their places at meals—

And suppose when they meets in the droring-room they turns upon
their ’eels—

I’m sure Muster Derby (that’s master) do his best to keep things
quiet,

And’tamt true we’ve ’ad the perlice called in to put down rumpage
or riot.

Muster Dizzy is free to go out and come in as he likes, with his own
latch-key,

And it can’t be no business of Walpole’s, the parties he chooses to see:

Them Irish gents as calls on him is pleasant haffable men,

Though they is apt to be rumbustical and fractious now and then.

Anyways we keeps ourselves to ourselves, and if parties will make
’andles

Of every trifle, more shame for them as breeds such worrits and
scandals.

I ’ll never say nothing to make folks think Derby-Mansion’s a coming
to smash,

We washes our dirty linen at home, and I don’t tell what goes to
the Wash.

“ MAY THE EVENING’S AMUSEMENT BEAR,” &c.

The Pope has been giving a grand Banquet to the Cardinals and
all the Bishops in Rome. Happy priests! How they must have en-
joyed their mutton, as every one of them could doubtlessly boast to
himself of having got the Pope’s eye. Fancy the beverages too ! We
read that the Pope had no less than 240 Bishops to his dinner that day!
We wonder how ever he managed to get home to the Vatican in safety
that night. We all know that Pius is a famous good hand at making
a Bishop, but we wish that he would not make some of them so strong.
Your Bishop has at all times fine insidious qualities for stealing away a
man’s brains, but that Dupanloup Bishop is enough to give the strongest
man a headache for several days to come. Not only is there too much
spirit, but it is of too fiery a quality. We are curious to know if
the Pope has yet recovered from having had 240 Bishops all on the
same evening. If he has, he has a much stronger head than we ever
gave him credit for.

Breaking the Doll.

Woman is the Englishman’s friend, the American’s doll. Which
destiny does she prefer when she reads that the Federals have issued a
proclamation to the ladies of New Orleans, stating that any lady “who
manifests contempt ” for a Federal soldier shall be treated—well, as
we do not treat the unfortunate creatures who infest the Haymarket at
midnight ? Poor Dolly, she is ruthlessly smashed the moment she even
winks derision. But now do the brave, but susceptible Northerns,
treat men who manifest similar contempt P General Banks runs
away from them—gives them the cut direct. Perhaps this is almost as
safe a course as General Butler’s.

Patrons of the Ring.—Ladies, circus-riders, publicans, clowns,
noblemen, and prize-fighters.