Punch (47.1864)

December 24, 1864.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

255

WORTHY THE NOTICE OF THE ANTI-TOBACCO SOCIETY

Miss Fitz-Fast. “Porter, how is it there is not any Smoking Carriage to this Train?”

A CHANCE EOR AN EDITOR.

Thinking is dull work, but it has to be done at times. The follow-
ing statement, which we find in a daily contemporary, has driven us to
think

TO LITERARY MEN and PRINTERS.—A small Capital can PUR-
CHASE a profitable NEWSPAPER on the South Coast. Easily managed.
Literary ability not necessary.—Apply, &c.

Of course, we know that a very small capital, in fact, three pence,
can purchase the most profitable of all newspapers—that in the reader’s
hand. It can be purchased on the South Coast, of course, and also on
the East and West Coasts, and in the midland counties, and every-
where else, where civilisation is found. But we can hardly believe that
a stranger to us would kindly take the trouble to advertise to the
world a fact already sufficiently patent. We suppose (or as vulgarians
say, we expect) that his meaning is, that he wishes to sell his property
in some paper. By way of compliment to the Literary Men whom he
addresses, he says that literary ability is not necessary, and that the
affair is “ easily managed.” This must be one of Mr. Cobden’s
favourite journals, something made up of cuttings from other papers,
and without leading articles. Or, perhaps, the usual leading article
may be a congratulation to tbe inhabitants of the town enlightened by
the newspaper in question, that the Great Travelling Circus is to be
with them on Tuesday, “ when,” the accomplished Editor is sure,
“it will receive that patronage which Stickinthemud never refuses to
legitimate and honourable enterprise.” These Italics are a well-merited
kick at a conjuror who departed without paying for the editorial puffs.
Or, for we have not, of course, the faintest idea as to what part of the
South Coast is blessed with a journal requiring no literary ability, the
Editor will have to apply his fine faculties to scathing satire against
the sanitary authorities, “whose vulgar and un-English intermeddling
attempt to prevent our respected townsman, Mr. Bigg Jobber, from
keeping swine where his venerated father kept them before him, next
door to the hospital, excites the just indignation of those who know
the facts.” This is the usual style of country newspapers which
require no literary ability in the Editor, and we allow that such journals

are easily managed. Literary men will, we are sure, he grateful for
the chance that is offered them, and for the advertiser’s sweet apprecia-
tion of the literary character and responsibilities.

SONG OF THE ADVERTISING SURGEON.

I’ia Quack, I’ma Quack, in au infamous trade.

By which a large income I yearly have made :

Other Quacks you may find even richer than me,

And we live by the vilest of plunder, you see.

1 thrive by extortion, I heed not the law,

I grab all the cash from my dupes I can draw;

I keep a smart brougham with the money I steal,

And 1 live in a style that is highly genteel.

Chorus.

I’m a Quack 1 I’m a Quack! Here’s success to the trade.
By which dirty hands are yet dirtier made !

I’ma Quack ! I’m a scamp ! I’m a skunk! I’m a thief!
And of all filthy scoundrels I rank with the chief!

I’ve dubbed myself “ Doctor,” but that js all my eye,

My diploma’s a sham one, my title’s a lie ;

I’ve no knowledge of drugs, and no medical skill,

If attempting to cure you, the chance is I’d kill.

I frighten the nervous—I thrive by their fears—

I pretend there’s disease where no. symptom appears :

My advertisements daily bring patients to me,

I’m a Quack ! I’m a thief!—yet from prison I’m free !

Chorus.—I’m a Quack! I’ma Quack ! &c.

Immunity of Aliens.

To a Correspondent— General Tom Thumb and Commodore Nutt
(whom nobody but a vile punster would call Colonel) are not liable to
be summoned on the petit jury