March 10, 1866.] PUNCH OR THE LONDON CITARIVART.
___
MR. CRUSTY ON THE COST 0E FEMININE COSTUME.
tjnch, my Boy, — Being
(happily for me, I think),
a regular old bachelor, ana
not having to find raiment
for a wife and seven daugh-
ters, I take some pleasure
e very month in reading the
particulars of new and
costly costumes, which, my
newspaper informs me, are
coming in vogue. It is
true, a single life is not
iuvariably comfortable — in-
deed, it cannot be, so long
as shirt-buttons exist; but
an old bachelor at any rate
is free from the annoyance
of hearing that eternal jab-
beration about finery which
wives and daughters usually
are certain to keep up.
Moreover, he is free from
i he expenses incidental to
those visits of the milliner,
to which this jabberation
generally leads. Single as
1 am, I calmly smoke my
meerschaum in my solitude
at home, and read with per-
fect equanimity such details
as the following, which, if
l were married, would fill
me with dismay
“ Town toilette,—Poult-de-soie dress, with two petticoats; the first is garnished
at the bottom by a baud of Astracan fur ; the second is bordered by a large cord.
Bodice cut in a point in front and behind; straight sleeves ornamented with
Astracan fur ; bonnet of black velvet, ornamented simply on an Empire form by a
large barbe of lace ; in the interior, band of velvet, on which are attached small
chains of gold, retaining gold sequins; muff of Astracan fur.”
How I hug myself to think that I have no wife of my bosom, who
might bother me to buy her such a gorgeous dress as this ! Fur,
velvet, lace, and gold ! What a swelless she would be! Bonnet “ on
an Empire form,” with a beard by way of ornament! Why, if the
woman were an Empress, she could not well be more expensively got
up. And all this splendour the dear creature would use merely for her
morning calls and other common out-door work. Whenever she
; remained at home (if, unlike Madame Benoiton, she ever was there
I visible), she would probably array herself in this alarming style:—
“ An in-door toilette, composed of a first petticoat of green satin, formed with
gold buttons, and by a second petticoat of plain velvet of the same colour, open in
apron on a petticoat of satin ; bodice forming a Hungarian vest, open in front;
satin sleeves ; linen collar, with stars of guipure at the corners ; under-sleeves, with
assorted cuffs ; in the hair, a velvet band.”
First petticoat of satin! second petticoat of velvet! open vest of
Hungary ! and, 0 ye stars—stars of guipure ! Imagine my dismay at
seeing Mrs. Crusty sitting down to lunch in this theatrical costume!
And perhaps when she went out with me (or, far more probably, with-
out me) to dinner in the evening, her simple toilette would comprise
some such magniScence as this :—
“ Dress of jonquil satin, lozenged by tulle of the same colour, with detached
daisies in Chantilly lace, fastened at the corners of each lozenge. Empress Jose-
phine coiffure, simply ornamented by a diadem of brilliants accompanied by a
string of the same stones, forming, without interruption, a necklace, which is
fastened to the middle of the bodice.”
Jujube and marsh-mallow lozenges I know, but what in wonder’s
name are lozenges of tulle? And what a queer idea it seems to stick
such sticky things as lozenges upon a lady’s evening dress ! Moreover,
who except a milliner or else a millionnaire, would ever talk about a
head-dress being “simply ornamented by a diadem of brilliants?”
Simple ornaments, forsooth ! A man must be a simpleton to let his
wife expend his hard-earned cash on such simplicities !
Pour moi, like poor Othello, I may say, “ I have no wife so I have
no cause for alarm when I calculate the cost of these vastly simple
splendours. But do young bachelors, I wonder, ever peep into the
fashion books? If not, let an old bachelor advise them so to do before
they pop the fatal question. Not many young incomes will bear the
frequent cost of jonquil satin dresses and diadems of brilliants.
With this friendly word of warning, which I expect no one juventd
calidus to profit by, I remain. Sir, yours most singly, and therefore
most serenely, Ccelebs Crusty.
The Hermitage, Humpstead.
95
AUDI ALTERAM PARTEM.
I’m blessed with a fair benefice, the living may be worth
Five hundred pounds a-year at most, east, west, and south, and north;
Where’er it is, it matters not, if you try you won’t divine,
There’s many a country rector in a plight resembling mine.
Tho’ what I’m going to tell of it might make a bishop swear,
I’ve hitherto borne patiently life’s lot of cark and care;
But when my Punch turned on me, who was wont that care to wile,
’Twas a case of “ Et tu Brute,” and it fairly roused my bile.
You say I starve my curate, that I put without remorse
His precious life in danger, and work him like a horse;
While I play the Magnifico—you go a deal too far,
You little know, thrice happy Punch, what curates really are.
A cottage not in ruins, and ninety pounds a-year,
A pittance as you’d call it, I suppose, I give him clear ;
I can’t afford to offer rpore, and still perform the feat,
With wife and growing family, of making both ends meet.
A gentlemanly curate, who shows without pretence,
That white ties are compatible with charity and sense,
Is rare as Bird of Paradise—I scatter sans avail—
For, like it, he alights not—the salt for such a tail.
The lion in the pulpit, and out of it the dove,
1 mean the evangelical, whom all old ladies love ;
The slap-you-on-the-back sort, that are muscular and “ Broad,”
The hectic flushed that fast and wear a miniature of Laud.
Yes, all have I found wanting, e’en brought up from a child,
By careful aunts, the priory-good, or sentimental mild ;
The Calvinist who damned us all one week, and, which perplexed
Our minds—the theologian who saved us all the next.
A saint who thought one wife a sin, and, preaching, flung the pearls
To swine, if swine could take the form of pretty English girls,
Another—who came carping at my careless choice, and who
Atoned, ’twas found out afterwards, for him, by having two.
Another—scarce it edifies such curate freaks to show—
Short, thick, and oleaginous, opinions very low ;
Who from dissent converted—until he fancy took,
And married, within six weeks from the time he came—my cook.
Next week the place is vacant, it often is, there lies
The note of the sole applicant e’en now before my eyes;
“ Do I object to waltzing, some rectors do, if so,
What points at the whist parties, and is the croquet slow ? ”
Well, Punch, old fler, you’ve ’suited me, as once becoming “tight,”
My curate to the bishop said, and wanted him to fight.
But vengeance, save a single wish, I ’ll lay upon the shelf,—
I only wish that you, Punch, were a rector like myself.
SAYINGS OF THE FATHERS OF THE DESSERT.
(Dedicated with feelings of the greatest possible respect to an eminent
contributor to “ The Month.”)
i.
“ It is certain,” quoth Parobooteius the deacon, “that there was
a great Bishop of Hippo, who used to review books.”
“ True,” replied Abbot Jocosus, “ but no one has in consequence
accused him of being Hippo-critical.”
ii.
The Hermit Hornerius was seated alone at Christmas time in a
corner of his cell. A pie was on his knees. Clenching the four fingers
of his right hand, he, by the aid of his thumb, extracted a large dried
raisin, and looking upwards, exclaimed, “ What a good boy am I.”
But he ate not the plum.
III.
The aged monk, Jacobus Corvus, being asked after refection, whether
he would have any more to eat then, or would wait until he got it,
replied, “ No, thank you, I have had enough.”
iv.
“ Let us retire to our pallets,” said the Deacon Somnolentumcaput.
“Nay, let us abide here yet a while,” suggested the Monk Tardus.
“There are still some embers, it were wise to place the saucepan
thereupon,” quoth Abbot Avidumventer. “ Let us take a slight meal
before we depart.”
[To be discontinued.)
___
MR. CRUSTY ON THE COST 0E FEMININE COSTUME.
tjnch, my Boy, — Being
(happily for me, I think),
a regular old bachelor, ana
not having to find raiment
for a wife and seven daugh-
ters, I take some pleasure
e very month in reading the
particulars of new and
costly costumes, which, my
newspaper informs me, are
coming in vogue. It is
true, a single life is not
iuvariably comfortable — in-
deed, it cannot be, so long
as shirt-buttons exist; but
an old bachelor at any rate
is free from the annoyance
of hearing that eternal jab-
beration about finery which
wives and daughters usually
are certain to keep up.
Moreover, he is free from
i he expenses incidental to
those visits of the milliner,
to which this jabberation
generally leads. Single as
1 am, I calmly smoke my
meerschaum in my solitude
at home, and read with per-
fect equanimity such details
as the following, which, if
l were married, would fill
me with dismay
“ Town toilette,—Poult-de-soie dress, with two petticoats; the first is garnished
at the bottom by a baud of Astracan fur ; the second is bordered by a large cord.
Bodice cut in a point in front and behind; straight sleeves ornamented with
Astracan fur ; bonnet of black velvet, ornamented simply on an Empire form by a
large barbe of lace ; in the interior, band of velvet, on which are attached small
chains of gold, retaining gold sequins; muff of Astracan fur.”
How I hug myself to think that I have no wife of my bosom, who
might bother me to buy her such a gorgeous dress as this ! Fur,
velvet, lace, and gold ! What a swelless she would be! Bonnet “ on
an Empire form,” with a beard by way of ornament! Why, if the
woman were an Empress, she could not well be more expensively got
up. And all this splendour the dear creature would use merely for her
morning calls and other common out-door work. Whenever she
; remained at home (if, unlike Madame Benoiton, she ever was there
I visible), she would probably array herself in this alarming style:—
“ An in-door toilette, composed of a first petticoat of green satin, formed with
gold buttons, and by a second petticoat of plain velvet of the same colour, open in
apron on a petticoat of satin ; bodice forming a Hungarian vest, open in front;
satin sleeves ; linen collar, with stars of guipure at the corners ; under-sleeves, with
assorted cuffs ; in the hair, a velvet band.”
First petticoat of satin! second petticoat of velvet! open vest of
Hungary ! and, 0 ye stars—stars of guipure ! Imagine my dismay at
seeing Mrs. Crusty sitting down to lunch in this theatrical costume!
And perhaps when she went out with me (or, far more probably, with-
out me) to dinner in the evening, her simple toilette would comprise
some such magniScence as this :—
“ Dress of jonquil satin, lozenged by tulle of the same colour, with detached
daisies in Chantilly lace, fastened at the corners of each lozenge. Empress Jose-
phine coiffure, simply ornamented by a diadem of brilliants accompanied by a
string of the same stones, forming, without interruption, a necklace, which is
fastened to the middle of the bodice.”
Jujube and marsh-mallow lozenges I know, but what in wonder’s
name are lozenges of tulle? And what a queer idea it seems to stick
such sticky things as lozenges upon a lady’s evening dress ! Moreover,
who except a milliner or else a millionnaire, would ever talk about a
head-dress being “simply ornamented by a diadem of brilliants?”
Simple ornaments, forsooth ! A man must be a simpleton to let his
wife expend his hard-earned cash on such simplicities !
Pour moi, like poor Othello, I may say, “ I have no wife so I have
no cause for alarm when I calculate the cost of these vastly simple
splendours. But do young bachelors, I wonder, ever peep into the
fashion books? If not, let an old bachelor advise them so to do before
they pop the fatal question. Not many young incomes will bear the
frequent cost of jonquil satin dresses and diadems of brilliants.
With this friendly word of warning, which I expect no one juventd
calidus to profit by, I remain. Sir, yours most singly, and therefore
most serenely, Ccelebs Crusty.
The Hermitage, Humpstead.
95
AUDI ALTERAM PARTEM.
I’m blessed with a fair benefice, the living may be worth
Five hundred pounds a-year at most, east, west, and south, and north;
Where’er it is, it matters not, if you try you won’t divine,
There’s many a country rector in a plight resembling mine.
Tho’ what I’m going to tell of it might make a bishop swear,
I’ve hitherto borne patiently life’s lot of cark and care;
But when my Punch turned on me, who was wont that care to wile,
’Twas a case of “ Et tu Brute,” and it fairly roused my bile.
You say I starve my curate, that I put without remorse
His precious life in danger, and work him like a horse;
While I play the Magnifico—you go a deal too far,
You little know, thrice happy Punch, what curates really are.
A cottage not in ruins, and ninety pounds a-year,
A pittance as you’d call it, I suppose, I give him clear ;
I can’t afford to offer rpore, and still perform the feat,
With wife and growing family, of making both ends meet.
A gentlemanly curate, who shows without pretence,
That white ties are compatible with charity and sense,
Is rare as Bird of Paradise—I scatter sans avail—
For, like it, he alights not—the salt for such a tail.
The lion in the pulpit, and out of it the dove,
1 mean the evangelical, whom all old ladies love ;
The slap-you-on-the-back sort, that are muscular and “ Broad,”
The hectic flushed that fast and wear a miniature of Laud.
Yes, all have I found wanting, e’en brought up from a child,
By careful aunts, the priory-good, or sentimental mild ;
The Calvinist who damned us all one week, and, which perplexed
Our minds—the theologian who saved us all the next.
A saint who thought one wife a sin, and, preaching, flung the pearls
To swine, if swine could take the form of pretty English girls,
Another—who came carping at my careless choice, and who
Atoned, ’twas found out afterwards, for him, by having two.
Another—scarce it edifies such curate freaks to show—
Short, thick, and oleaginous, opinions very low ;
Who from dissent converted—until he fancy took,
And married, within six weeks from the time he came—my cook.
Next week the place is vacant, it often is, there lies
The note of the sole applicant e’en now before my eyes;
“ Do I object to waltzing, some rectors do, if so,
What points at the whist parties, and is the croquet slow ? ”
Well, Punch, old fler, you’ve ’suited me, as once becoming “tight,”
My curate to the bishop said, and wanted him to fight.
But vengeance, save a single wish, I ’ll lay upon the shelf,—
I only wish that you, Punch, were a rector like myself.
SAYINGS OF THE FATHERS OF THE DESSERT.
(Dedicated with feelings of the greatest possible respect to an eminent
contributor to “ The Month.”)
i.
“ It is certain,” quoth Parobooteius the deacon, “that there was
a great Bishop of Hippo, who used to review books.”
“ True,” replied Abbot Jocosus, “ but no one has in consequence
accused him of being Hippo-critical.”
ii.
The Hermit Hornerius was seated alone at Christmas time in a
corner of his cell. A pie was on his knees. Clenching the four fingers
of his right hand, he, by the aid of his thumb, extracted a large dried
raisin, and looking upwards, exclaimed, “ What a good boy am I.”
But he ate not the plum.
III.
The aged monk, Jacobus Corvus, being asked after refection, whether
he would have any more to eat then, or would wait until he got it,
replied, “ No, thank you, I have had enough.”
iv.
“ Let us retire to our pallets,” said the Deacon Somnolentumcaput.
“Nay, let us abide here yet a while,” suggested the Monk Tardus.
“There are still some embers, it were wise to place the saucepan
thereupon,” quoth Abbot Avidumventer. “ Let us take a slight meal
before we depart.”
[To be discontinued.)