DOI Heft:
June 23, 1866
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16877#0274
266
PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
[June 23, 1866.
SCENE-THE TRAFALGAR, GREENWICH.
Waiter. “What’ll you please to take for Dinner, Sir?”
Used-up Parti/ (who has come all the way to Greenwich to dine). “ Oh, whatever
YOU LIKE, MY GOOD FELLOW, SO LONG AS YOU DON’T GIVE ME ANY FlSH ! ”
il
SOLDIERS TO SOVEREIGNS.
Hail, C^sar, Emperor! Hail, King!
Let them that dare revile and hoot you.
To you your soldiers shout and sing,
The men about to die salute you !
No volunteers who choose, for pay.
To risk their lives and limbs in battle;
But conscripts dragged from home away,
And driven to the field like cattle.
Or rather, dogs, if dogs could be
In packs upon each other hounded.
Then dogs might do as well as we.
And conscripts be with curs compounded.
Oh, happy hounds on either side,
In being bitten, and in biting,
The battles of their masters’ pride,
Vainglory, and ambition, fighting !
Ah, yes! but dogs can only bite ;
The wounds they take and give are trifles.
They have but teeth withal to fight:
But, Sires, our weapons are these rifles,
These bayonets, and these leaden cones,
These ponderous sugar-loaves of steel, Sires;
That pierce man’s flesh, and smash man’s bones,
Inflicting pain which you don’t feel, Sires.
No torture, in the olden times
Of sterner ways, and manners rougher;
Eor deeds heroic, or high crimes.
That e’er Jack Ketch made wretches suffer,
Has equalled that excess of woe
Which, crushed on plains of battle gory,
Will wring some of us, ere we go
To bliss—the martyrs of your glory.
These and those muzzles—mouths of fire—
Wait but your word opposed to thunder;
Mouths against mouths, but, Sire, and Sire,
The wise, in no long time, will wonder
To think of these guns and of those,
Confronted in War’s game, to suit you.
Not pointed at our tyrant foes—
Your slaves, about to die, salute you !
VAGUE PEOPLE.
Ask any Professor of t he Vague School to give you some information
on the present state of European affairs.
Ask him plainly, “ What is the Quadrilateral ? ”
He will tell you, “Eh? the Quadnthingummy is a whatyoumaycallem,
you know, Euclid—four sides, well, Austria and Prussia to protect
the old thingummy, it’s difficult to explain exactly, but you know.”
You will then put a leading question, thus : “ It is to protect Venetia
isn’t it, against the South ? ”
The Vague Person will give himself no more trouble than is requisite
for catching at the suggestion, “ Yes, protect Venetia.”
“ But what do you mean,” you proceed, “ by protecting Venetia
against the South P ”
He doesn’t mean anything, of course, but he says, “ Oh, protecting
it against the thingummy in the South ; they’d soon pitch into ’em,”
he adds knowingly, “ if it wasn’t for that.”
Press a Vague Person for some definite information about the Reform
Bill and the Re-distribution of Seats. He will explain such subjects
lucidly, thus: “ Oh,_ they want to extend the thingummy, at least,
Whatshisname and his party do, and they ’re going to re-distribute the
whatyoumaycallems, you know.”
The Vague Person is a superficial reader: he has no capacity for
study, nor can he closely apply himself to any one pursuit: he reads
the Times and several other papers every day, and will tell you that
there’s “nothing in’em.” Remind him of that important telegram
from Paris, or the dreadful crime which has horrified every one, and he
will reply, “ Oh that, yes; ab, I thought you knew that.”
The Vague Person makes a great point of keeping his accounts, and
then muddles them hopelessly. He is always for dividing by twenty,
and reducing everything to shillings. He prefers calculation on his
fingers to the shorter methods provided by science. In this sense only
can it be affirmed that he has arithmetic at his fingers’ ends. In adding
up shillings he omits pence up to twopence three farthings; and in
reckoning pounds he omits a few shillings here and there, and always
sticks to what he calls a round sum, which means to him, any quantity
consisting only of two figures, of which one shall be a Nought.
A Vague PersonUs always busy, and has never any time to spare.
He does nothing, and gives himself plenty of time over it. He has an
imperfect knowledge of a few quotations from standard poets, which
he has acquired less by reading than by hearing, lie confuses Shak-
speare and Bulwer Lytton, is uncertain about Sheridan’s lifetime,
and is hopelessly at fault as to Wycherley, Congreve, Chaucer,
“ and that lot,” as he expresses it.
If he has seen lately Miss Herbert’s revival of Much Ado about
Nothing he will, in reply to some one who ha3 forgotten the plot, say,
“ Well, you know, it’s all about Hero, and Whatshisname, Leander, and
she refuses him, and talks with Boccaccio out of her window.”
He recollects a beautiful passage in Romeo and Juliet, where he will
tell you, “ Whatshisname says that thing about dreams, and gossamers
on your nose, and all that sort of thing. Beautiful! ”
There are many wonderful creations in the world, whose present or
ultimate use is a mystery to our limited intelligences. And these
Vague People, to what end do they exist ? Heaven only knows : appa-
rently, they are useless; certainly they are, save as regards themselves,
harmless.
“ Do you Bite your Thumb, Sir!”
“ ‘ Obstructives ? ’ ’gainst destructives blind
All arms are fair—you must agree ”—
Alas—how often do we find
Ob plays into the hands of De !
CONUNDRUM.
What would a cheap paper-covered volume of any of Scott’s novels
say if it could swear ? “ Hang it! I ’ll be bound.”
The Eye of the Law.—Policeman’s Bull’s-eye.
PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
[June 23, 1866.
SCENE-THE TRAFALGAR, GREENWICH.
Waiter. “What’ll you please to take for Dinner, Sir?”
Used-up Parti/ (who has come all the way to Greenwich to dine). “ Oh, whatever
YOU LIKE, MY GOOD FELLOW, SO LONG AS YOU DON’T GIVE ME ANY FlSH ! ”
il
SOLDIERS TO SOVEREIGNS.
Hail, C^sar, Emperor! Hail, King!
Let them that dare revile and hoot you.
To you your soldiers shout and sing,
The men about to die salute you !
No volunteers who choose, for pay.
To risk their lives and limbs in battle;
But conscripts dragged from home away,
And driven to the field like cattle.
Or rather, dogs, if dogs could be
In packs upon each other hounded.
Then dogs might do as well as we.
And conscripts be with curs compounded.
Oh, happy hounds on either side,
In being bitten, and in biting,
The battles of their masters’ pride,
Vainglory, and ambition, fighting !
Ah, yes! but dogs can only bite ;
The wounds they take and give are trifles.
They have but teeth withal to fight:
But, Sires, our weapons are these rifles,
These bayonets, and these leaden cones,
These ponderous sugar-loaves of steel, Sires;
That pierce man’s flesh, and smash man’s bones,
Inflicting pain which you don’t feel, Sires.
No torture, in the olden times
Of sterner ways, and manners rougher;
Eor deeds heroic, or high crimes.
That e’er Jack Ketch made wretches suffer,
Has equalled that excess of woe
Which, crushed on plains of battle gory,
Will wring some of us, ere we go
To bliss—the martyrs of your glory.
These and those muzzles—mouths of fire—
Wait but your word opposed to thunder;
Mouths against mouths, but, Sire, and Sire,
The wise, in no long time, will wonder
To think of these guns and of those,
Confronted in War’s game, to suit you.
Not pointed at our tyrant foes—
Your slaves, about to die, salute you !
VAGUE PEOPLE.
Ask any Professor of t he Vague School to give you some information
on the present state of European affairs.
Ask him plainly, “ What is the Quadrilateral ? ”
He will tell you, “Eh? the Quadnthingummy is a whatyoumaycallem,
you know, Euclid—four sides, well, Austria and Prussia to protect
the old thingummy, it’s difficult to explain exactly, but you know.”
You will then put a leading question, thus : “ It is to protect Venetia
isn’t it, against the South ? ”
The Vague Person will give himself no more trouble than is requisite
for catching at the suggestion, “ Yes, protect Venetia.”
“ But what do you mean,” you proceed, “ by protecting Venetia
against the South P ”
He doesn’t mean anything, of course, but he says, “ Oh, protecting
it against the thingummy in the South ; they’d soon pitch into ’em,”
he adds knowingly, “ if it wasn’t for that.”
Press a Vague Person for some definite information about the Reform
Bill and the Re-distribution of Seats. He will explain such subjects
lucidly, thus: “ Oh,_ they want to extend the thingummy, at least,
Whatshisname and his party do, and they ’re going to re-distribute the
whatyoumaycallems, you know.”
The Vague Person is a superficial reader: he has no capacity for
study, nor can he closely apply himself to any one pursuit: he reads
the Times and several other papers every day, and will tell you that
there’s “nothing in’em.” Remind him of that important telegram
from Paris, or the dreadful crime which has horrified every one, and he
will reply, “ Oh that, yes; ab, I thought you knew that.”
The Vague Person makes a great point of keeping his accounts, and
then muddles them hopelessly. He is always for dividing by twenty,
and reducing everything to shillings. He prefers calculation on his
fingers to the shorter methods provided by science. In this sense only
can it be affirmed that he has arithmetic at his fingers’ ends. In adding
up shillings he omits pence up to twopence three farthings; and in
reckoning pounds he omits a few shillings here and there, and always
sticks to what he calls a round sum, which means to him, any quantity
consisting only of two figures, of which one shall be a Nought.
A Vague PersonUs always busy, and has never any time to spare.
He does nothing, and gives himself plenty of time over it. He has an
imperfect knowledge of a few quotations from standard poets, which
he has acquired less by reading than by hearing, lie confuses Shak-
speare and Bulwer Lytton, is uncertain about Sheridan’s lifetime,
and is hopelessly at fault as to Wycherley, Congreve, Chaucer,
“ and that lot,” as he expresses it.
If he has seen lately Miss Herbert’s revival of Much Ado about
Nothing he will, in reply to some one who ha3 forgotten the plot, say,
“ Well, you know, it’s all about Hero, and Whatshisname, Leander, and
she refuses him, and talks with Boccaccio out of her window.”
He recollects a beautiful passage in Romeo and Juliet, where he will
tell you, “ Whatshisname says that thing about dreams, and gossamers
on your nose, and all that sort of thing. Beautiful! ”
There are many wonderful creations in the world, whose present or
ultimate use is a mystery to our limited intelligences. And these
Vague People, to what end do they exist ? Heaven only knows : appa-
rently, they are useless; certainly they are, save as regards themselves,
harmless.
“ Do you Bite your Thumb, Sir!”
“ ‘ Obstructives ? ’ ’gainst destructives blind
All arms are fair—you must agree ”—
Alas—how often do we find
Ob plays into the hands of De !
CONUNDRUM.
What would a cheap paper-covered volume of any of Scott’s novels
say if it could swear ? “ Hang it! I ’ll be bound.”
The Eye of the Law.—Policeman’s Bull’s-eye.