Punch (44.1863)

240

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[June 13, 1863.

Mr. N. I really don’t see what we have to do with royalty, beyond
paving the Queen’s taxes.

'Mrs. Id. Now, Henry, don’t give way to such vulgar, radical,
democratic notions. Loyalty is next door to gentility, and I have
noticed that persons who scoff at such things generally become bank-
rupts sooner or later. I assure you I have observed it.

Mr. Id. I shall note your observation. How shall we put it ?
Persons who don’t look after sovereigns will find themselves without
bank-notes. ... - T , ..

Mrs. Ed. I tell you, dear, don’t turn everything into fun. 1 know that
you have much more strength of mind than I have, but don’t laugh at
me when I say that I own 1 should like to hear the children read about
Mamma at breakfast the next day. “Mrs Henry Naggleton, by
Lady Pugbury.” It is an event in a woman’s life.

Mr. N. (with that vicious memory of his). A Lady’s life, my dear.

Mrs. Id. {makes a ball of her handkerchief and throws it at him). The
real difficulty is, that 1 have no jewels.

Mr. Id. Cornelia never said that.

Mrs. II. No, but I’m not Cornelia, nor cornelian either, and there’s
a joke for you, Mr. Henry. Now, dear, of course we must hire them
for that day, and I should like you to go with me to Spark and Facet’s,
and arrange ail that—they pay more respect to a gentleman than to a
lady.

Mr. Id. And expect the gentleman to reciprocate the extra payment.
Now, I tell you seriously, Maria, the entire thing’s absurd; but if it
were not, I don’t care about Lady Pug for a chaperone for you.

Mrs. id. No, and if I were a girl, or a young matron without much
position, I would not have her; but it is a mere form, and it matters
very little who introduces the wife of Henry Naggleton. She stands
on her own name, or rather his.

Mr. Id. Che sara sara, and if the Countess Russell should pay you
any marked attention, or tell you that the Earl is dying to consult me
on some treaty, say I quoted his motto.

Mrs. N. (dubiously). But what does it mean, Henry ?

Mr. N. Does the translator of Cary’s Dante—1 mean of Dante—ask
me that ? It means that I suppose I can’t help myself.

Mrs. Id. You are a good, dear creature. Won’t the children be en-
chanted to see Mamma with a train and feathers ?

Mr. N. Yes, the whole business seems adapted for such appreciation
—b are you going to move that Queen, or do you mean me to take

uer ?

[The day of glory has come, and we may say has gone, for it is seven
o’clock, p.m., and Mr. Naggleton is quite ready for his dinner,
and it is quite ready for him, and for his wife. He has shown no
irritation at being kept waiting, however, but has been smiling,
at intervals, with a very mischievous expression of face, as if he
had heard something to somebody’s disadvantage. There comes
a tremendous ring, and in another minute Mrs. Naggleton,
in full Court costume, enters the Drawing-room.

Mr. N. Welcome home, Marchioness of Naggleton. You look
splendid, but not exactly pleased. Your raiment is less ruffled than
your brow—you have luckily escaped any crush, I conclude ?

Mrs. N. (taking off her feathers with anything but tender care). I don’t
advise you to begin annoying me noio.

Mr. N. Select your own date, my dear. But (hypocritically) what’s
the matter ?

Mrs. N. I tell you, don’t aggravate me.

Enter Carter.

Carter. Please, M’m, the children want to know if they may come
down and have another look at their Mamma before you change your

dress p

Mrs. Id. {angrily). No, they may not. [Exit Carter.

Mr. Id. Rath er hard, especially as you dwelt upon the pleasure of
letting them see you in Court costume.

Mrs. N. {turning to bay). If you had behaved like an ordinary hus-
band, this wouldn’t have happened.

Mr. Id. If I knew what it was, I would endeavour to defend myself.

Mrs. N. I asked and begged and prayed you to go with us, and you
wouldn’t.

Mr. Id. The Lord Chamberlain ordered me and the masculine
world generally not to come to the Drawing-room.

Mrs. Id. But he did not forbid you seeing us down to the Palace, I
suppose, as you would have done, if you had possessed the least manli-
ness and good feeling.

Mr. N. How the deuce was I to get into that pill-box of a carriage ?
There wasn’t anything like room for Lady Pugbury and yourself—
your dresses filled it all up to the roof.

Mrs. N. You could have gone on the box.

Mr. Id. Six hours tete-a-tete with her coachman. Yes, I could—and
1 didn’t.

Mrs. Id. No, and now, through your selfishness, your wife’s exposed
to the humiliation.ol being the laughing-stock of all her friends.

Mr. Id. Dear triends. But what have they to laugh at, I keep asking?

Mrs. Id. Why, good gracious, haven’t I told you half-a-dozen times

that we never got to the Palace at all, the crowd of carriages was so
great ?

Mr. Id. You should have started earlier.

Mrs. Id. Of course say that. We were in the line by one, and it was
your duty to have been with us, and made the police let us go on. Of
course, I am a wife, and can’t help myself, but Lady Pugbury is deeply
offended, and I dare say will never speak to us again.

Mr. Id. We may survive that. But where was iier own lawful and
bandy-legged husband P If she wanted an extra servant on the box of
her carriage, it was Pug’s place.

Mrs. N. How should I know ?

Mr. Ed. Well, dear, it’s aggravating to have taken so much trouble
for nothing, but it can’t be helped, and you had better get rid of your
splendour and have some dinner.

Mrs. N. I want no dinner.

Mr. Ed. Come, don’t be childish. There will be plenty of Drawing-
rooms, and another time we’ll manage better.

Mrs. Id. I will never try again as long as I live.

Mr. Id. You ’ll think better of it when you have dined—now you are
weary and hungry, I dare say.

Mrs. Id. All your fault, if I am.

Mr. Ed. Don’t be unjust—don’t say that.

Mrs. Id. I shall say what I choose, and 1 am not going to be put
down by you.

Mr. Ed. Come, don’t be rude, or I shall go and dine at the Club.

Mrs. Id. You can go and dine at Jericho if you like.

Mr. Ed. The idea of a woman at your time of life flying out like a
school-girl because she couldn’t get into a room and make a curtsey.

Mrs. Ed. You are talking like an idiot.

Mr. W. Yes, I am repeating your words. {Seriously.) I think I had
better write at once to the Prince, and explain that you and Lady Pug
intended to be loyal, and beg that your absence may be overlooked.
Carter can take the letter.

Mrs. Id. Loyal indeed. The Prince-

Mr. N. My dear!

Mrs. Ed. If it wasn’t his fault, it was that of the haughty stuck-up
nosed aristocratic peacocks about the Court, who are as poor as church
mice for all their fine airs, and would be glad to borrow money of their
betters, whom they insult.

Mr. Id. Such awful sentiments make me shudder. Loyalty is next
door to gentility, and we of the Blue Blood, we with a proud pedigree,
niece of the celebrated man m—-

Mrs. Ed. I have tried to make you a gentleman, Henry, but now I
give up the task. Have your dinner, or go to the Club. I shall not
come down again to-night.

{Sweeps from the room, but the dignity of the exit is something marred
by her angry clutch at her unaccustomed train.

Mr. Id. {thefiend). Ha ! ha! 1 oughtn’t to be angry, this time. The
event has avenged me. Piggy Farmer was right when he said he
saw them, and that they hadn’t a chance. Devilish handsome she
looked, though, and none the worse for the excitement of her wrath.
The bandeau on her hair was effective—she is like Adversity, also a
toad, in respect of wearing a precious jewel in her head—I might have
propounded that to her as a conundrum, but it will keep. I will go to
the Club. {Does, a brute.

THE TUNE THE OLD COW DIED OF

Great mortality has lately prevailed among the cattle in the mews
and suburbs of London. A cow, somewhat advanced in years, having
died under suspicious circumstances, a veterinary inquest was held on
the animal’s body by the coroner of the district, and a respectable jury.
Several witnesses gave it as their firm opinion that the death of the
creature was owing to the continual irritation to which its nervous
system had been subjected by the noise continually kept up by the
Italian organ-men in the neighbourhood, and a verdict was returned to
the effect that the deceased cow had died from the effects of a
discordant tune played upon a grinding organ.

Legal.

On Ascot Cup Day there were plenty of barristers present. Mr.
Hope Scott, Q.C., opened a case of Champagne in his usual style;
there was no opposition. In Heap v. Denison, reported June 3rd, we
read that a “ Dr. Collier had invented a process of turning straw into
paper.” This will be very useful to bill-holders who find that the
paper they have received is only so much straw, given them by men
made of the same commodity.

INTERESTING.

The other day a deputation from the Infant Orphans’ Barents’ Aid
Society waited on a door-step. The interview was, we believe, satis-
factory.