DOI Heft:
October 24, 1863
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16872#0176
October 24, 1863.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
165
ziiri:
EVERY MAN TO HIS OWN CALLING.
A Voice from the Neighbouring Cab-stand (excitedly). “ Don’t’it ’im ! Don’t’it’iml
Sit on ’is ed! ”
THE QUIET ENGLISH READER.
A Leader in the Post contained the fol-
lowing noteworthy remarks on a certain dif-
ference between ihe reading of girls and boys:
“ Boys, on the other hand, take a sort of pride in
abstaining from all manifestation of feeling. They
will read the narrative of David’s contest with
Goliath with the same monotonous delivery as they
would read a chapter of genealogies. The boy who
attempted to read a lively or pathetic passage in
a tone and manner befitting the subject would
inevitably be laughed at by all the other lads ; and
be prudently declines to excite and encounter
such a storm of ridicule from his companions.”
Old Mr. Scroggs, at his breakfast-table,
read tbe foregoing passage to his nephew
Tom, home for a holiday, and asked him what
lie said to it. Tom at first, replied that he didn’t
know ; but on being offered sixpence to ex-
press his thoughts, spoke as follows:—
“A chap bates showing off, and hates to
see another chap show off. It’s all very well
for a girl; but for a boy—beastly. I’m told
I ought to read with feeling. I should just
hate to. A chap might as well dance about
in a crinoline. See bow pretty, and clever,
and soft I am!—that’s as much as what a
fellow says when he reads and tries to come
it affecting. Groaning, and turning up his
eyes to make other chaps cry, a bloke looks
so spooney—yah! Give us the kick.”
‘‘Very true, very true, Tom; Iperfectlyagree
with you,” said the old gentleman, “and, Tom,
here is balf-a-crown for you instead of six-
pence ; and I say, Tom, I wish that some of
those reverend gentlemen who, as the news-
papers say in tbeir accounts of weddings,
read the marriage service in an ‘impressive
manner,’ would be guided in future by your
judicious remarks on the subject of elocution.
Ahem!”
A NEW NORMAN CONQUEST.
We have a thorough regard and respect for Dr. Norman Macleod,
the Editor of Good Words, and we have watched, with considerable
pleasure, his somewhat recent contest with and complete victory over
the Presbyterian clergyman who edits tlie Record, and who is so vehe-
ment a supporter of the Church of England. The Record was so
shocked at Dr. Macleod for presuming to teach that children might
be brought up kindly and cheerily, and permitted to be happy in this
world, that the Exeter Hall journal assailed the Doctor in a way which,
had it not been so excessively pious would have been excessively im-
pertinent. So the stalwart and large-hearted Doctor rolled his assailant
over and over, amid the applause of the truly religious and the groans
of the fanatics. The Record has not had such a shaking for a long
time, and we hope that the castigation he has been privileged to receive
may be blessed to him. But as we are desirous to prevent its being
supposed that Dr. Macleod is for indiscriminate and undeserved
indulgence, we beg to submit a little bit from a capital paper in Good
Words. It describes the early struggles of a Scottish country school-
master. He toils away, cheered by a certain love-vision. Tbe lady
is false:—
“ She had not the pluck to stand by her master when the Laird op Blackmoss
was pressing for her hand. And then the black curly hairs of the master turned to
grey as the dream of his life vanished, and he awoke to the reality of a heart that
can never love another, and to a school with its A B G and Syntax. But somehow
the dream comes back in its tenderness as he strokes the hair of some fair girl in
the class and looks into her eyes ; or it comes back in its bitterness, and a fire begins
to bum at his heart, which very possibly passes off like a shock of electricity along
his right arm, and down the black tawse, finally discharging itself with a flash and
a roar into some lazy mass of agricultural flesh who happens to have a vulgar look
like the Laird of Blackmoss, and an unprepared lesson ! ”
Mr. Runch bas been for years letting his tawse into lazy masses of
agricultural flesh, until be bas effected a marvellous reform in the
bucolic world. Many farmers are now known to express themselves
with something like good sense upon the topics of the day, their mode
of culture is much improved, they have ceased to execrate the late Sir
Robert Peel, and Mr. Punch has very good hopes of their ultimate civi-
lisation. So he sympathises with the master whose sensations are thus
vigorously described—not, of course, that Mr. Punch was ever crossed in
love, his chief trouble being to repel, with befitting gentleness, the sed ulous
adoration of the softer constituents of the Census. But, referring to
the above extract, he would just say that if he were a Scotch boy whose
parents were looking out for a school for him, he should specially beg
that they would inquire whether the master had been happy in bis
amatory arrangements. Eor it must be but a partial satisfaction, when
one bas been exceedingly well wopped, to reflect that tbe last half-dozen
were given, not to oneself, but to the lout who carried off Miss Mary—
Venus te hoc vulnere—it is not Wisdom but Love that is coming down
upon you with that most objectionable leather. And, apropos of nothing,
we hope that the Presbyterian Record liked tbe tawse as administered
to it by Dr. Macleod. Erom the noise the Exeter Hall journal made,
we fear we must infer that it did not. But we give the poor Record a
splendid revenge—a good, spiteful, pious jeer at Dr. Macleod, for
having been complimented by that wicked Runch. Go it, Philadelphion.
ANOTHER KING WANTED.
We read in the Churchman's Family Magazine and Dissenter’s House
hold Miscellany, that—
“ In 1329 a grand tournament was held in Cheapside for the entertainment of the
French ambassador and his suite. ... A wooden scaffolding was constructed
for the accommodation of the Queen and her ladies, but in the midst of the. sports
it unhappily gave way, to the great alarm, but not the bodily injury, of its fair
occupants. King Edward immediately ordered the carpenter to be hung, hut on
the intercession of good Queen Philippa, rescinded his cruel sentence.”
Cruel! Hm. Queen Philippa was a very kind lady, and all that,
but—as we said, Hin. If the carpenter had time to do the. work pro-
perly, and if no more tickets were issued than the place was intended to
hold, and if the unticketed public did not. scramble up, and if the mob
played no larks with the supports, we really do not feel that we can
make any remark more to the point than our above observation; namely,
Hm—with a slight, addition, videlicet, that we wish King Edward
would come back, for the benefit of certain railway managers. There
have been about a dozen needless accidents within the last lortnight,
and a King who would bint, as distinctly as did Edward, that he
insisted on the lives and limbs of his subjects being cared for, would be
a most blessed Domestic Institution. We should suggest his leaving
Queen Philippa in the Elysian Eields.
Cruel Treatment of an Invalid.
A Helpless Invalid, whose case required peculiarly gentle treatment
at his attendants’ hands, was the other day at Brighton placed, by his
doctor’s orders, in a Bath chair, and, in this position, he teas pulled
about by two of his own servants. Barbarous !
Vol. 45.
6
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
165
ziiri:
EVERY MAN TO HIS OWN CALLING.
A Voice from the Neighbouring Cab-stand (excitedly). “ Don’t’it ’im ! Don’t’it’iml
Sit on ’is ed! ”
THE QUIET ENGLISH READER.
A Leader in the Post contained the fol-
lowing noteworthy remarks on a certain dif-
ference between ihe reading of girls and boys:
“ Boys, on the other hand, take a sort of pride in
abstaining from all manifestation of feeling. They
will read the narrative of David’s contest with
Goliath with the same monotonous delivery as they
would read a chapter of genealogies. The boy who
attempted to read a lively or pathetic passage in
a tone and manner befitting the subject would
inevitably be laughed at by all the other lads ; and
be prudently declines to excite and encounter
such a storm of ridicule from his companions.”
Old Mr. Scroggs, at his breakfast-table,
read tbe foregoing passage to his nephew
Tom, home for a holiday, and asked him what
lie said to it. Tom at first, replied that he didn’t
know ; but on being offered sixpence to ex-
press his thoughts, spoke as follows:—
“A chap bates showing off, and hates to
see another chap show off. It’s all very well
for a girl; but for a boy—beastly. I’m told
I ought to read with feeling. I should just
hate to. A chap might as well dance about
in a crinoline. See bow pretty, and clever,
and soft I am!—that’s as much as what a
fellow says when he reads and tries to come
it affecting. Groaning, and turning up his
eyes to make other chaps cry, a bloke looks
so spooney—yah! Give us the kick.”
‘‘Very true, very true, Tom; Iperfectlyagree
with you,” said the old gentleman, “and, Tom,
here is balf-a-crown for you instead of six-
pence ; and I say, Tom, I wish that some of
those reverend gentlemen who, as the news-
papers say in tbeir accounts of weddings,
read the marriage service in an ‘impressive
manner,’ would be guided in future by your
judicious remarks on the subject of elocution.
Ahem!”
A NEW NORMAN CONQUEST.
We have a thorough regard and respect for Dr. Norman Macleod,
the Editor of Good Words, and we have watched, with considerable
pleasure, his somewhat recent contest with and complete victory over
the Presbyterian clergyman who edits tlie Record, and who is so vehe-
ment a supporter of the Church of England. The Record was so
shocked at Dr. Macleod for presuming to teach that children might
be brought up kindly and cheerily, and permitted to be happy in this
world, that the Exeter Hall journal assailed the Doctor in a way which,
had it not been so excessively pious would have been excessively im-
pertinent. So the stalwart and large-hearted Doctor rolled his assailant
over and over, amid the applause of the truly religious and the groans
of the fanatics. The Record has not had such a shaking for a long
time, and we hope that the castigation he has been privileged to receive
may be blessed to him. But as we are desirous to prevent its being
supposed that Dr. Macleod is for indiscriminate and undeserved
indulgence, we beg to submit a little bit from a capital paper in Good
Words. It describes the early struggles of a Scottish country school-
master. He toils away, cheered by a certain love-vision. Tbe lady
is false:—
“ She had not the pluck to stand by her master when the Laird op Blackmoss
was pressing for her hand. And then the black curly hairs of the master turned to
grey as the dream of his life vanished, and he awoke to the reality of a heart that
can never love another, and to a school with its A B G and Syntax. But somehow
the dream comes back in its tenderness as he strokes the hair of some fair girl in
the class and looks into her eyes ; or it comes back in its bitterness, and a fire begins
to bum at his heart, which very possibly passes off like a shock of electricity along
his right arm, and down the black tawse, finally discharging itself with a flash and
a roar into some lazy mass of agricultural flesh who happens to have a vulgar look
like the Laird of Blackmoss, and an unprepared lesson ! ”
Mr. Runch bas been for years letting his tawse into lazy masses of
agricultural flesh, until be bas effected a marvellous reform in the
bucolic world. Many farmers are now known to express themselves
with something like good sense upon the topics of the day, their mode
of culture is much improved, they have ceased to execrate the late Sir
Robert Peel, and Mr. Punch has very good hopes of their ultimate civi-
lisation. So he sympathises with the master whose sensations are thus
vigorously described—not, of course, that Mr. Punch was ever crossed in
love, his chief trouble being to repel, with befitting gentleness, the sed ulous
adoration of the softer constituents of the Census. But, referring to
the above extract, he would just say that if he were a Scotch boy whose
parents were looking out for a school for him, he should specially beg
that they would inquire whether the master had been happy in bis
amatory arrangements. Eor it must be but a partial satisfaction, when
one bas been exceedingly well wopped, to reflect that tbe last half-dozen
were given, not to oneself, but to the lout who carried off Miss Mary—
Venus te hoc vulnere—it is not Wisdom but Love that is coming down
upon you with that most objectionable leather. And, apropos of nothing,
we hope that the Presbyterian Record liked tbe tawse as administered
to it by Dr. Macleod. Erom the noise the Exeter Hall journal made,
we fear we must infer that it did not. But we give the poor Record a
splendid revenge—a good, spiteful, pious jeer at Dr. Macleod, for
having been complimented by that wicked Runch. Go it, Philadelphion.
ANOTHER KING WANTED.
We read in the Churchman's Family Magazine and Dissenter’s House
hold Miscellany, that—
“ In 1329 a grand tournament was held in Cheapside for the entertainment of the
French ambassador and his suite. ... A wooden scaffolding was constructed
for the accommodation of the Queen and her ladies, but in the midst of the. sports
it unhappily gave way, to the great alarm, but not the bodily injury, of its fair
occupants. King Edward immediately ordered the carpenter to be hung, hut on
the intercession of good Queen Philippa, rescinded his cruel sentence.”
Cruel! Hm. Queen Philippa was a very kind lady, and all that,
but—as we said, Hin. If the carpenter had time to do the. work pro-
perly, and if no more tickets were issued than the place was intended to
hold, and if the unticketed public did not. scramble up, and if the mob
played no larks with the supports, we really do not feel that we can
make any remark more to the point than our above observation; namely,
Hm—with a slight, addition, videlicet, that we wish King Edward
would come back, for the benefit of certain railway managers. There
have been about a dozen needless accidents within the last lortnight,
and a King who would bint, as distinctly as did Edward, that he
insisted on the lives and limbs of his subjects being cared for, would be
a most blessed Domestic Institution. We should suggest his leaving
Queen Philippa in the Elysian Eields.
Cruel Treatment of an Invalid.
A Helpless Invalid, whose case required peculiarly gentle treatment
at his attendants’ hands, was the other day at Brighton placed, by his
doctor’s orders, in a Bath chair, and, in this position, he teas pulled
about by two of his own servants. Barbarous !
Vol. 45.
6