November 8, 1S62.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
187
DIALOGUE BETWEEN A MILL-OWNER AND
JOHN BROWN.
“ Who are you, who are you, my friend,
All out at your elbows and toes ? ”
“I ’m John Brown, at your service. Sir,
A spinner with scarce any clothes.”
“How ’s that, John Brown, John Brown,
After spinning away all your life ? ”
“ It’s all o' that there Yankee war,
That brotherly murderin strife.”
“What's that, John Brown, John Brown;
That I see you have got in your hand?”
“ It ’s my wife’s Wedding-ring as I’m going
To pawn at the pawnbroker’s stand.”
“Notthat, John Brown, John Brow;
Can’t you find something better to sell ? ”
“Why I’ve soldeverv stick as I ’ve got
To get bread, for the wife, boys and gell.”
“Oh that, John Brown, John Brown,
Mustn’t be, mustn’t be, my friend.”
“ Wrell then, you, and the likes as is rich.
Your help and your money just lend.”
“Well that, John Brown, John Brown,
Would pprhaps.be the right thing to do.”
“ I should just think it was, else we ’ll starve
Close to well-fed mill-owners like you.”
“ Well, well, John Brown, John Brown,
You mustn’t take on so, my man.”
“ Take on so, why fever will soon
Take the lot o’ us out o’ the lan’.”
“ What, what, John Brown John Brown,
So bad as all that has it got ? ”
“ Yes, you and all them as has means
Might save us from all going to rot.”
SENTIMENT.
Edwin (to whom it suddenly occurs). “ Neat thing in Sunsets, Angy ] ”
Angelina. “ Why, so it is ! Mauve clouds with amber trimmings! Most tasteful
thing of the kind I ever saw, Love ! ” [Query. Was Angelina chaffing ?
Quite a Drug in the Market.
They are going to put up to sale the contents that are
left in the International Exhibition Building. What an
enormous sum might be realised if they could sell the
discontents that have come out of it!
THE REEEREE’S DECISION.
“Dear Mr. Punch,
“ I say, you are always a friend to us youngsters, and 1 want
ou to make things square between me and the Governor. He is the
est old party in the world, but he don’t always see things in a right
light, don’t you know, and times have changed since he was a boy,—
tempora mutantur, and all that. He will insist in writing on his letters
to me, ‘ Master Swithin Lane ; ’ and the other chaps at the school
chaff me like fun (only it isn’t fun to me), and say that I am a nice
little child, and why doesn’t the nurse come to see me, and no end of
that. I say, you have been young yourself, you know, and you might
say a word. I have spoken to the Governor, and asked him to write
‘ Mr.’ (I didn’t go in for ‘ Esquire,’ though some of the chaps have
their letters so), and he talks about ‘ Air.’ meaning an adult, and that
I am only fifteen, and that it would be a 'positive wrong.’ I should
like to know which is wrongest, doing a little thing like that, to oblige
your own flesh and blood, or leaving me to be chaffed every time I get
a letter, besides causing me to give another fellow a black eye, as I was
forced to do last week for his cheek, and will again ? Besides, the
Governor is so inconsistent. He writes to twenty folks in a day that
he is their ‘very obedient servant,’ and I should like to hear one of
them tell him to brush a coat. Isn’t that ‘ a positive wrong ? ’
Besides, he’s wrong again. I am not a master, but a pupil; so he puts
his dear old foot in it every way. Just give him the mildest dig, and,
believe me,
“ Yours really and truly,
“ Swithin Lane.”
Chapeauology.
The name of the old Erench hat has for years past been Qibus.
The new Erench hat, however, has been the target, or the head-piece,
rather, of so many jokes, at the expense of the poor Mossoos, that they
might safely venture to call it Jibie) us.
A PUZZLE IN THE COURT CIRCULAR.
The subjoined extract from the Court Circular is indistinctly con-
cise :—
“ Osbokne, Oct. 30.—The Queen walked this morning.”
In labouring to be brief, the chronicler of the Court movements * 1
becomes obscure. “The Queen walked this morning.” Well; but
Her.AIajesty has hitherto, happily, been accustomed to walk every
morning. The information that “the Queen walked,” as if our
Sovereign had been for some time keeping her bed, was calculated to
create anxiety and alarm in the minds of Her AIajesty’s subjects. In-
stead of being apprised that the Queen walked in the abstract, they
ought to have been told that she walked in the castle grounds or where
else soever it pleased her to walk. Some persons, accustomed to ex-
press themselves in idiomatic language, when they read the statement
that the Queen “walked,” too probably misunderstood it to mean, that
Her AIajesty went away. Avoid slang.
A Lady’s Postscript.
It is said that the meaning of a lady’s letter always peeps out in the
Postscript. It may not generally be known, but there is an insinuating
motive in this. The dear creature, after indulging in a quantity of
elegant nonsense, ties her meaning tightly up in the Postscript—thus
evidently wishing that everything she. has of truth, or interest, to com-
municate, may be taken literally au pied de la lettre. And who can say
that in this, as in all other things, the dear creature is not quite right
in the end ?
VENUS PRESERVED.
Some ladies were decrying Mr. Gibson’s Tinted Venus, when an old
maid exclaimed, pityingly, “Poor creature! if she is stinted, why
doesn’t she wear a Crinoline ? ”
187
DIALOGUE BETWEEN A MILL-OWNER AND
JOHN BROWN.
“ Who are you, who are you, my friend,
All out at your elbows and toes ? ”
“I ’m John Brown, at your service. Sir,
A spinner with scarce any clothes.”
“How ’s that, John Brown, John Brown,
After spinning away all your life ? ”
“ It’s all o' that there Yankee war,
That brotherly murderin strife.”
“What's that, John Brown, John Brown;
That I see you have got in your hand?”
“ It ’s my wife’s Wedding-ring as I’m going
To pawn at the pawnbroker’s stand.”
“Notthat, John Brown, John Brow;
Can’t you find something better to sell ? ”
“Why I’ve soldeverv stick as I ’ve got
To get bread, for the wife, boys and gell.”
“Oh that, John Brown, John Brown,
Mustn’t be, mustn’t be, my friend.”
“ Wrell then, you, and the likes as is rich.
Your help and your money just lend.”
“Well that, John Brown, John Brown,
Would pprhaps.be the right thing to do.”
“ I should just think it was, else we ’ll starve
Close to well-fed mill-owners like you.”
“ Well, well, John Brown, John Brown,
You mustn’t take on so, my man.”
“ Take on so, why fever will soon
Take the lot o’ us out o’ the lan’.”
“ What, what, John Brown John Brown,
So bad as all that has it got ? ”
“ Yes, you and all them as has means
Might save us from all going to rot.”
SENTIMENT.
Edwin (to whom it suddenly occurs). “ Neat thing in Sunsets, Angy ] ”
Angelina. “ Why, so it is ! Mauve clouds with amber trimmings! Most tasteful
thing of the kind I ever saw, Love ! ” [Query. Was Angelina chaffing ?
Quite a Drug in the Market.
They are going to put up to sale the contents that are
left in the International Exhibition Building. What an
enormous sum might be realised if they could sell the
discontents that have come out of it!
THE REEEREE’S DECISION.
“Dear Mr. Punch,
“ I say, you are always a friend to us youngsters, and 1 want
ou to make things square between me and the Governor. He is the
est old party in the world, but he don’t always see things in a right
light, don’t you know, and times have changed since he was a boy,—
tempora mutantur, and all that. He will insist in writing on his letters
to me, ‘ Master Swithin Lane ; ’ and the other chaps at the school
chaff me like fun (only it isn’t fun to me), and say that I am a nice
little child, and why doesn’t the nurse come to see me, and no end of
that. I say, you have been young yourself, you know, and you might
say a word. I have spoken to the Governor, and asked him to write
‘ Mr.’ (I didn’t go in for ‘ Esquire,’ though some of the chaps have
their letters so), and he talks about ‘ Air.’ meaning an adult, and that
I am only fifteen, and that it would be a 'positive wrong.’ I should
like to know which is wrongest, doing a little thing like that, to oblige
your own flesh and blood, or leaving me to be chaffed every time I get
a letter, besides causing me to give another fellow a black eye, as I was
forced to do last week for his cheek, and will again ? Besides, the
Governor is so inconsistent. He writes to twenty folks in a day that
he is their ‘very obedient servant,’ and I should like to hear one of
them tell him to brush a coat. Isn’t that ‘ a positive wrong ? ’
Besides, he’s wrong again. I am not a master, but a pupil; so he puts
his dear old foot in it every way. Just give him the mildest dig, and,
believe me,
“ Yours really and truly,
“ Swithin Lane.”
Chapeauology.
The name of the old Erench hat has for years past been Qibus.
The new Erench hat, however, has been the target, or the head-piece,
rather, of so many jokes, at the expense of the poor Mossoos, that they
might safely venture to call it Jibie) us.
A PUZZLE IN THE COURT CIRCULAR.
The subjoined extract from the Court Circular is indistinctly con-
cise :—
“ Osbokne, Oct. 30.—The Queen walked this morning.”
In labouring to be brief, the chronicler of the Court movements * 1
becomes obscure. “The Queen walked this morning.” Well; but
Her.AIajesty has hitherto, happily, been accustomed to walk every
morning. The information that “the Queen walked,” as if our
Sovereign had been for some time keeping her bed, was calculated to
create anxiety and alarm in the minds of Her AIajesty’s subjects. In-
stead of being apprised that the Queen walked in the abstract, they
ought to have been told that she walked in the castle grounds or where
else soever it pleased her to walk. Some persons, accustomed to ex-
press themselves in idiomatic language, when they read the statement
that the Queen “walked,” too probably misunderstood it to mean, that
Her AIajesty went away. Avoid slang.
A Lady’s Postscript.
It is said that the meaning of a lady’s letter always peeps out in the
Postscript. It may not generally be known, but there is an insinuating
motive in this. The dear creature, after indulging in a quantity of
elegant nonsense, ties her meaning tightly up in the Postscript—thus
evidently wishing that everything she. has of truth, or interest, to com-
municate, may be taken literally au pied de la lettre. And who can say
that in this, as in all other things, the dear creature is not quite right
in the end ?
VENUS PRESERVED.
Some ladies were decrying Mr. Gibson’s Tinted Venus, when an old
maid exclaimed, pityingly, “Poor creature! if she is stinted, why
doesn’t she wear a Crinoline ? ”