DOI Heft:
April 18, 1863
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16871#0173
166
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[April 18, 1863.
A DELICATE HINT.
8ewtiirbmi.nl Yorung Lady (to Friend). “ Oh, isn’t it a Pretty Sight to see the poor Horse drink ? ”
Driver (confidentially and insinuatingly). “ Sure, thin, it would be a dale Prettier Sight, Miss, to say Me drink!”
A PRIVATE VIEW.
We have lately made the round of the Studios, and ean confidently
prophesy all sorts of things about the Royal Academy ; but we shan’t
do anything of the sort.
We commenced our inspection about Luncheon Time, and at that
joyous hour found Mr. Millais drawing a cork in his very best style.
He executed a little cut for us off a small joint, and showed us a charm-
ing salad, in oil. We couldn’t see his paintings clearly, so he offered
us a glass ; or, vice versa, he offered us a glass and then we couldn’t
see his picture clearly. We know that it was one or the other: probably
the other. We were very much pleased, and were, in fact, carried
away with delight: at all events we have no distinct idea of leaving the
Studio, and yet we found ourselves the next morning reposing, “like a
warrior taking his rest,” with his, we mean our, boots on. Perhaps
Mr. Home may account for this phenomenon.
The next day we were up and at ’em again. Mr. Walker, who rose
to receive us, from which we infer that he is a rising youmr Artist, was
interrupted, by our entrance, in painting a figure of Blind Hookey, a
most touching subject. Mr. Walker it, seems expected our visit as he
said that he had been looking out for us in his celebrated Dictionary.
W e encouraged the performance, and gracefully withdrew. Mr. Dob-
son, on our arrival, was just finishing his picture, and was engaged in
laying in some dinner. Here we managed to show our taste, and then
proceeded to Mr. Sherwood Westmacott, the talented Sculptor,
whom we found chiselling a high figure out of a block. We be-
lieve it was a likeness ol Mr. Chip-pendale of the Haymarket. We
apologised and withdrew. Mr. Redgreaves has The Blacklegs, for
his picture. Mr. Calderon, “ The Witches in Macbeth” dancing, as
may be imagined, round the Cauld’ron. We saw at a glance that Mr.
Hughes was painting lambs. Sir Edwin Landseer gave us The
Ola Buck, with ah his wonted power. We were highly gratified with
the production of Mr. Marks, painted for St. Luke’s. Choosing the
popular Aurora Floyd whence to take an idea, Mr. Hardy has done
well m painting Mr. Softy. The above information may be implicitly
trusted, if substantially correct and particularly accurate.
PHOTOGRAPHIC PASSPORTS.
The passport system certainly is dying out by slow degrees: but
there are still some countries where it is not yet extinct, and for the
benefit of those who travel there, we would suggest that photographs
be used henceforth as passports. Every traveller should have his carte
de visite taken and attested as his likeness before he starl s from home :
and the production of this portrait should be an open sesame at any
frontier gate. Pen and ink descriptions are usually so vague that they
scarcely ever serve to identify a person: and what is said about one’s
“ age,” or one’s “visage” in a passport is not merely not flattering, but
often strangely incorrect. A photograph of course would give a far
more faithful picture, and one that might at any rate more easily be
recognised than any written catalogue of one’s features, age, and height.
The sole objection seems to be, that men changing their appearance by
wearing cut-throat collars in place of ancient stick-ups, or by suddenly
indulging in the growth of long cat’s whiskers or a beard or a mous-
tache, of course would have to sit for a new portrait when they did so,
as the old one would no longer bear the least likeness to life. In the
latter case, indeed, they would have to be re-photographed a dozen times
a month, if they would have their passport represent the truth. Jones
who lets his upper lip remain unshaven for a day or two is but little
like the Jones who used to shave it every morning: and his expression
of disgust, when the hairs come thin and straggling and of brilliant
brickaust hue, imparts a strangely altered look to his fine face.
Answer to a Correspondent.
“ Dust,” as you rightly suppose, means “ Money.” “ Biting the
Dust ” is a ceremony sometimes observed by suspicious tradesmen in
order to ascertain the goodness of the coin.
Ecclesiastical Intelligence.—Thenext appointment toaBishopric
will, we are happy to say, give us an instance of the Right man in the
Right place. We may safely announce that, a Fish Ordinary will be
nominated to any vacant See.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[April 18, 1863.
A DELICATE HINT.
8ewtiirbmi.nl Yorung Lady (to Friend). “ Oh, isn’t it a Pretty Sight to see the poor Horse drink ? ”
Driver (confidentially and insinuatingly). “ Sure, thin, it would be a dale Prettier Sight, Miss, to say Me drink!”
A PRIVATE VIEW.
We have lately made the round of the Studios, and ean confidently
prophesy all sorts of things about the Royal Academy ; but we shan’t
do anything of the sort.
We commenced our inspection about Luncheon Time, and at that
joyous hour found Mr. Millais drawing a cork in his very best style.
He executed a little cut for us off a small joint, and showed us a charm-
ing salad, in oil. We couldn’t see his paintings clearly, so he offered
us a glass ; or, vice versa, he offered us a glass and then we couldn’t
see his picture clearly. We know that it was one or the other: probably
the other. We were very much pleased, and were, in fact, carried
away with delight: at all events we have no distinct idea of leaving the
Studio, and yet we found ourselves the next morning reposing, “like a
warrior taking his rest,” with his, we mean our, boots on. Perhaps
Mr. Home may account for this phenomenon.
The next day we were up and at ’em again. Mr. Walker, who rose
to receive us, from which we infer that he is a rising youmr Artist, was
interrupted, by our entrance, in painting a figure of Blind Hookey, a
most touching subject. Mr. Walker it, seems expected our visit as he
said that he had been looking out for us in his celebrated Dictionary.
W e encouraged the performance, and gracefully withdrew. Mr. Dob-
son, on our arrival, was just finishing his picture, and was engaged in
laying in some dinner. Here we managed to show our taste, and then
proceeded to Mr. Sherwood Westmacott, the talented Sculptor,
whom we found chiselling a high figure out of a block. We be-
lieve it was a likeness ol Mr. Chip-pendale of the Haymarket. We
apologised and withdrew. Mr. Redgreaves has The Blacklegs, for
his picture. Mr. Calderon, “ The Witches in Macbeth” dancing, as
may be imagined, round the Cauld’ron. We saw at a glance that Mr.
Hughes was painting lambs. Sir Edwin Landseer gave us The
Ola Buck, with ah his wonted power. We were highly gratified with
the production of Mr. Marks, painted for St. Luke’s. Choosing the
popular Aurora Floyd whence to take an idea, Mr. Hardy has done
well m painting Mr. Softy. The above information may be implicitly
trusted, if substantially correct and particularly accurate.
PHOTOGRAPHIC PASSPORTS.
The passport system certainly is dying out by slow degrees: but
there are still some countries where it is not yet extinct, and for the
benefit of those who travel there, we would suggest that photographs
be used henceforth as passports. Every traveller should have his carte
de visite taken and attested as his likeness before he starl s from home :
and the production of this portrait should be an open sesame at any
frontier gate. Pen and ink descriptions are usually so vague that they
scarcely ever serve to identify a person: and what is said about one’s
“ age,” or one’s “visage” in a passport is not merely not flattering, but
often strangely incorrect. A photograph of course would give a far
more faithful picture, and one that might at any rate more easily be
recognised than any written catalogue of one’s features, age, and height.
The sole objection seems to be, that men changing their appearance by
wearing cut-throat collars in place of ancient stick-ups, or by suddenly
indulging in the growth of long cat’s whiskers or a beard or a mous-
tache, of course would have to sit for a new portrait when they did so,
as the old one would no longer bear the least likeness to life. In the
latter case, indeed, they would have to be re-photographed a dozen times
a month, if they would have their passport represent the truth. Jones
who lets his upper lip remain unshaven for a day or two is but little
like the Jones who used to shave it every morning: and his expression
of disgust, when the hairs come thin and straggling and of brilliant
brickaust hue, imparts a strangely altered look to his fine face.
Answer to a Correspondent.
“ Dust,” as you rightly suppose, means “ Money.” “ Biting the
Dust ” is a ceremony sometimes observed by suspicious tradesmen in
order to ascertain the goodness of the coin.
Ecclesiastical Intelligence.—Thenext appointment toaBishopric
will, we are happy to say, give us an instance of the Right man in the
Right place. We may safely announce that, a Fish Ordinary will be
nominated to any vacant See.