Punch (47.1864)

September 10, 1864.j

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

103


Boy. “Please, Sir, Tell me the Time?”
Crusty Old Gent. “ Yes, Sir,—Bed-Time !”

IN THIS OLD HAT.

In this old hat Policeman X
Has guarded London well;

In this beguiled the female sex,

And wooed each area-belle :

To fight and fray, by night and day,
Prom Kew to Camden Town,

That shiny top has put a stop,

Obedient to the Crown.

At parting from the friend of years
Deep sighs disturbed his belt;

His dark blue eyes brimful with tears
Attested what he felt:

The helmet now upon his brow,

He paces slowly by,

In doubt how Cook and Jane will look,
When it arrests their eye.

Policeman X, Sir Richard bless
With all your might— and main,

He apprehends the style of dress
That pleases Cook and Jane :

Por over tea they both agree—

You captivating dear—

With such a casque you need but ask,
To have incessant beer.

“Non Talibus Horsepitiis.”

Prom Cornwall comes a story of a horse who, weary ol an
I idle life on a common, deliberately went and drowned him-
self in the sea. We don’t believe a horse would be such
an ass. Does not this sea-horse much resemble the Cetus
pointed out to Privy Councillor Polonius, calf, jby H.K.H.
the Prince op Denmark, K.E. P

CLUB CONVERSATION

(FOR THE TIME OF YEAR).

Scene—Reading Room of the Club. Solitary Member, who has read
all the papers, serials, and magazines, is discovered sitting at writing-
table, trying to remember some one to whom he oioes a letter ; as writing
to anybody is more sociable than speaking to nobody. Door opens,
and enter, cautiously, De Peble.

Sol. Member (laying down his pen and elevating his eyebrows'). Hallo !

Be Feble (as if intensely surprised). What, you here !

Sol. Mem. (rising, with outstretched hand, and in his heartiest manner).
How are you ?

Be Feble (making the usual satisfactory reply). How are you ?

During the Season, De Peble nods, and just manages to recognise
the existence of Solitary Member, and the latter speaks of the former
as “ that conceited puppy De Peble, whom he should like to kick,” or
words to that effect. Rut now, in the desolation of a St. James’s Street
Club, it is a hand to grasp, a human voice with a word of sympathetic
welcome, even though that hand be nothing but a paw, and the voice a
yelp, which by a logical development of the canine simile they both
very well might be.

Sol. Mem. (returning to his seat, making as though his letter was of
great consequence in order to give De Peble the idea that business detains
him in Town). Well—and so—you—(after the first glow of heartiness
there comes over them both, but more especially over the one who has made
the first advance, an indefinable chill)—you—(hits on a bright idea)—
i you ’re in Town, are you ?

Be Feble (rather ashamed of himself, and not liking to admit the
fact all at once, says dubiously). Well—yes. Rut- um—(clears his
i fashionable reputation at the expense of his veracity), I ’m going down
i into the country to-night.

Sol. Mem. Ah! (Wishes he could say so, too ; thinks he will say so.)

\ I’m a—(becomes nervous, and thinks he won’t), at least I’m not going
away yet awhile.

Be Feble (feeling that he has got the advantage over his acquaintance
now). Ah ! I shall be away for some time.

Sol. Mem. (fidgeting with his pen). Ah! (vaguely), going to Hertford-
shire ?

Be Feble (with some uncertainty). No, no, (as much as to say Heat he
could go to Hertfordshire if he pleased). 1 shall get some shooting at my
Uncle’s, and so forth, as usual.

(Shrugging his shoulders as if the arrangements bored him.

Sol. Mem. (Smiling thoughtfully). Yes. (Looks serious and wonders
what the deuce he was smiling at) Yes.

[.Begins to watch the few people in the street.

Be Feble (tracking back), ies. I shall be off to-night, (knocking his
cane on the floor) or to-morrow morning, early.

(Watchespeople in the street.

Sol. Mem. Ah—yes—er—. (Bites pen.

Be Feble. Well—or (looks at his watch), let me see, I must—

(Mumbles something to himself.

Sol. Mem. Um—um—

(Tears up apiece of paper, and makes a show of commencing a letter.

Be Feble. Well—er—(as if about to say something of great importance
which he had left for the last moment)—Good bye.

Sol. Mem-. Good bye. (Nods pleasantly, but omits the ceremony of
i shaking hands.)

Exit De Peble, making a mental memorandum to the effect that he
must not, for his own credit’s sake, enter the Chib again for some
days.

De Peble partly regrets within himself that he did not ask the Soli-
tary One if he was going to “ dine at the Club—and go anywhere ; ”
but he cannot do that now, so he feeds at some remote restaurant, or
in his own chambers with himself and his Pamiliar Humbug.

Solitary Member entertains a better feeling towards De Peble
after this interview, than he ever did before. For De Feble’s
blooming companions being all out of Town, the natural man is peeping
out through the artificial man; the buckram Court dress of the season
has been taken off, and De Peble goes easily in his smoking coat. And
so it comes to pass, that, in the letter which Solitary Member does
pen to a friend out of Town, this sentence stands recorded—“ I met
De Feble in Town to-day. He’s not such a bad fellow, after all.” So
these two men are, both of them, the better for being chucked against
one another, by an unfashionable Pate, in this eritr’acte time of the year.

The Weather.

The storm which was in London on a Sunday, visited several parts
of the Country during the week. It was heartily welcomed wherever
it dropped in. This sounds all very well, and is of course at this season,
the fashionably correct movement; but what, we may ask, will the poor
bound-down-to-London Londoners do, when even the Wettest Weather
leaves Town ?

ADVICE.

How to make a Watch keep time.—Never wind it up, it will then keep
the same time all the year round.