DOI issue:
August 4, 1866
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16878#0057
August 4, 1866.]
49
PUNCH, OH THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
Childers, confirmed the fact, and an Honourable Member held in his
hand a signal that had just arrived. Mr. Punch instantly sent Mr.
Johnson a peremptory signal to liquor severely.
THE ROMANCE OF CROQUET.
“ You told me,” said my romantic young friend to me, “that I
should have lots of opportunities of saying sweet things to—to—Her.”
I pointed out to him that he had had numberless opportunities at
Croquet. He had not seen it. I gave him some hints, and he owned
himself perfectly astonished at the facilities afforded for serious flirta-
tion by this admirable game. “ Give me,” he exclaimed, “ a Croquet
party, and the object of my affections, and my success is certain.”
Tor the benefit of fluttering flirters I carefully observed the game,
and present the following account, dramatically rendered, to the notice
•of young ladies and gentlemen, in order that they may know the diffi-
culties to be encountered in the pursuit of the interesting science of
Out-of-door-Tlirting-in-Croquet-Company.
Energetic Croquet Player (iwho gets up the game, and who means “ the
game, the whole game, and nothing but the game”). Now then! Sides !
Here, Potty !
[.To Romantic Young Man, who being inclined to corpulence, was
when a boy, called “ Potty ” at school.
Romantic Youth (thinks to himself). I wish to goodness he wouldn’t
call me Potty {looks furtively to see if Miss Gertrude Linnit noticed
it; is satisfied that she didn’t, and answers briskly,) Yes !
Energetic Player. Yon ’ll take Miss Dowdy for a partner.
[Miss Dowdy, a Maiden Lady, age uncertain.
Romantic Youth {thinking it’s iust like his luck, becomes suddenly
glum). Oh! Very well.
Miss Limit {with a sweet smile). Whose side am I on ?
Energetic Player. Oh! You ’re my partner.
[Romantic Youth sees an opportunity lost: he might have said
something with deep meaning about “ being Partners’’ PLeputs
his mallet under his arm like an umbrella, and regards Miss
Gertrude with melancholy.
Miss Rowdy {with such a look). We ’re partners, Mr. Prinkie.
[The Romantic Youth’s name. He bows, and wishes Miss Ger-
trude would look at him, and see how wretched he is.
Energetic Player {to two others). You ’ll play, won’t yon ? and we ’ll
I have three a side.
[The two new ones are a chatty pleasing-looking Young Lady, and a
Comic Man with a reputation in his part of the country.
Young Lady {Miss Wilsom). With pleasure. But I’m afraid you’ll
find me rather what Mr. Rummal {the Eunny Man) would call “ a
muff.” [This leads to a little laughing and talking.
Romantic Youth {who has managed to sidle up about as quickly and
mysteriously as the Ghost in the “ Corsican Brothers” to Miss Linnit’s
side). I wish we {finds that his voice has almost disappeared)— Ahem !
(Clears his throat, but still finds that his undertone, in which lie intends to
say his sweet things, is uncommonly gruff.) I wish that we were {struggles
with his throat) partners. [This last word sinks altogether.
Miss Linnit {looking straight at him with “ those eyes,” and speaking,
he thinks, unnecessarily loud). What ?
Romantic Youth {feeling that he ’d better not be too precipitate, and
trying to adopt a tone somewhat below hers, and above his former one). I
said, I wish that—{suddenly changes the entire phrase) that we were
playing together.
Miss Linnit {a little disappointed, perhaps, but not showing it). Oh !
Yes, I wish we were. [Laughs and looks towards the other players.
[Romantic Youth, experiencing some difficulty in selecting the best
things out of the lot he’s got to say, is silent. LLe has just hit
upon a commencement when—•
Energetic Player. Now then, Potty ! You begin.
Eunny Man {much amused). Potty! Who’s Potty?
[Energetic Player loudly explains while Romantic Youth is taking
aim. Romantic Youth, missing his first hoop, and feeling that
he is not showing to advantage, becomes depressed.
Miss Linnit. My turn ? {Discovers dainty ankle, pretty little croquet
shoe and stocking.) Am I to go here ? (Tunny Man instructs her.
Romantic Youth thinks him officious.) May I hold, it like this ? (Ener-
getic Player explains to her the best mode of grasping the mallet.
Romantic Youth would have liked to have interfered, but has nothing
to say on the subject.) I hope I shall have better fortune than Mr.
Prinkie. (Looks coquettishly towards Romantic One, who smiles grimly
as if the world and its pleasures were nought to him now. She plays and
makes her first hoop triumphantly.) There !
Funny Man. Potty’s potted, eh ?
[General laugh, in which Romantic Youth is obliged to join, and
wishes that the Red Sea, or something, would siveep all funny
men off’ the face of the earth.
Romantic Youth {as the game progresses, sees Miss Linnit standing
apart by her ball, and gradually gets up to her side, in the “ Corsican
Brothers” Ghost style as before). You ’ve been croqued out here ?
[He tries to renumber what the dickens it was lie had arranged to say.
Miss Linnit (looking straight at him, and understanding all about it at
once). Yes. Very unkind, wasn’t it ?
Romantic Youth {absently). Yes.
[Doesn’t see that her remark leads to anything, and thinks he’s
wasting time. Miss Linnit thinks so, too.
Energetic Player (interrupting some stroke in the middle of the ground).
I say, when two balls are kissing, you know, you can’t-
[Explains what you can’t, Spc.
Romantic Youth {hazily seeing an opportunity, says in an undertone). I
didn’t know that {feels his throat getting hot, but continues) there was
kissing allowed at this game ?
[Looks at her tenderly. As there’s a powerful sun, he finds that a
couple of seconds of fixed gazing makes his eyes water. He averts
them, and is conscious of blinking unromantically.
Miss Linnit {who xoon’tfollow suit, says carelessly). Didn’t you?
Romantic Youth {feels inclined to say, angrily, “No, I didn’t,” but
substitutes, in a plaintive tone). I’ve been longing to see you for-
[Zs going to add, “ the last three days,” when—
Energetic Player {unconsciously). Now then, Two Blue {that is, Miss
Linnit) it’s your turn.
Miss Linnit {not am»-oving of too powerful a demonstration in public).
Oh, I beg your pardon, I’m sure.
[At once hits her ball sharply, and walks after it.
Romantic Youth (looks after her bitterly, and wishes that he hadn’t
wasted his time in talking about croquet instead of saying something to the
point. Sighs.) Ah !
Funny Man. Now then, Potty, show us what you can do. (Romantic
Youth wishes he might show him what he could do, and then misses an easy
stroke.) Oh, butter-fingers !
[General laugh. Romantic One thinks what a conceited ass that
fellow is.
Chatty Young Lady. I’m afraid I can’t do this stroke without
spooning. May I spoon ?
Funny Man {loudly). You mayn’t spoon alone.
[A titter. He laughs heartily at his own wit. Romantic Youth sees
a real opportunity gone, and hates Tunny Man.
Energetic Player {at the winning end of the ground). Now, I’m a
rover!
Miss Dowdy {with the slyness of an uncertain age, to Romantic Youth).
I’m afraid that’s the character of many gentlemen.
Romantic Youth {wondering what right she has to talk like this).
What! A rover ? {Determines not to give her any encouragement.)
Oh, yes.
[Looks with envy towards Miss Linnit, who is making most success-
ful hits under the personal superintendence of the Tunny Man.
Miss Doicdy {sentimentally). Croquet’s very like life.
Romantic Youth {feeling uncommonly matter-of-fact). Is it ?
Miss Dowdy. Ah ! You’ve no poetry, I’m afraid. Don’t you recol-
lect those beautiful lines-
Funny Man {shouting). Now, Potty, no “spooning!” You must
come and play your stroke.
Miss Dowdy {simpering). Spooning! How absurd, to be sure !
[Miss Linnit enjoys the joke. Everybody does. Romantic Youth
hates everybody far the rest of the game.
Trom which it may be seen that your party must be carefully chosen
if the “ opportunities ” are to be made satisfactorily available.
HOW TO CLEAR THE PARK.
Mr. Punch has received several admirable suggestions. If they
have arrived a little late they will do for any future emergency:—
1st Method. Let the park be filled with fire engines. Let the fire
engines play soap-and-water on the Great Unwashed. Let the engineers
be very particular about the soap.
2nd Method. Put one of our leading tragedians in the park as Hamlet.
The moral effect of this would be marvellous.
3rd Method. Keep it perpetually undermined with gunpowder.
(Slightly troublesome this, perhaps.)
4th Method. Turn the animals from the Zoological Gardens loose into
the park.
A New Peer and an Old Joke.
Sir Edward Bulwer’siiow Lord Lytton,
Proclaim the fact from Wight to Arran:
Richly and variously he’s written,
But now we all must call him—Barren.
Poetical Motto for Salmon.—“ We are Seve(r)n.”
49
PUNCH, OH THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
Childers, confirmed the fact, and an Honourable Member held in his
hand a signal that had just arrived. Mr. Punch instantly sent Mr.
Johnson a peremptory signal to liquor severely.
THE ROMANCE OF CROQUET.
“ You told me,” said my romantic young friend to me, “that I
should have lots of opportunities of saying sweet things to—to—Her.”
I pointed out to him that he had had numberless opportunities at
Croquet. He had not seen it. I gave him some hints, and he owned
himself perfectly astonished at the facilities afforded for serious flirta-
tion by this admirable game. “ Give me,” he exclaimed, “ a Croquet
party, and the object of my affections, and my success is certain.”
Tor the benefit of fluttering flirters I carefully observed the game,
and present the following account, dramatically rendered, to the notice
•of young ladies and gentlemen, in order that they may know the diffi-
culties to be encountered in the pursuit of the interesting science of
Out-of-door-Tlirting-in-Croquet-Company.
Energetic Croquet Player (iwho gets up the game, and who means “ the
game, the whole game, and nothing but the game”). Now then! Sides !
Here, Potty !
[.To Romantic Young Man, who being inclined to corpulence, was
when a boy, called “ Potty ” at school.
Romantic Youth (thinks to himself). I wish to goodness he wouldn’t
call me Potty {looks furtively to see if Miss Gertrude Linnit noticed
it; is satisfied that she didn’t, and answers briskly,) Yes !
Energetic Player. Yon ’ll take Miss Dowdy for a partner.
[Miss Dowdy, a Maiden Lady, age uncertain.
Romantic Youth {thinking it’s iust like his luck, becomes suddenly
glum). Oh! Very well.
Miss Limit {with a sweet smile). Whose side am I on ?
Energetic Player. Oh! You ’re my partner.
[Romantic Youth sees an opportunity lost: he might have said
something with deep meaning about “ being Partners’’ PLeputs
his mallet under his arm like an umbrella, and regards Miss
Gertrude with melancholy.
Miss Rowdy {with such a look). We ’re partners, Mr. Prinkie.
[The Romantic Youth’s name. He bows, and wishes Miss Ger-
trude would look at him, and see how wretched he is.
Energetic Player {to two others). You ’ll play, won’t yon ? and we ’ll
I have three a side.
[The two new ones are a chatty pleasing-looking Young Lady, and a
Comic Man with a reputation in his part of the country.
Young Lady {Miss Wilsom). With pleasure. But I’m afraid you’ll
find me rather what Mr. Rummal {the Eunny Man) would call “ a
muff.” [This leads to a little laughing and talking.
Romantic Youth {who has managed to sidle up about as quickly and
mysteriously as the Ghost in the “ Corsican Brothers” to Miss Linnit’s
side). I wish we {finds that his voice has almost disappeared)— Ahem !
(Clears his throat, but still finds that his undertone, in which lie intends to
say his sweet things, is uncommonly gruff.) I wish that we were {struggles
with his throat) partners. [This last word sinks altogether.
Miss Linnit {looking straight at him with “ those eyes,” and speaking,
he thinks, unnecessarily loud). What ?
Romantic Youth {feeling that he ’d better not be too precipitate, and
trying to adopt a tone somewhat below hers, and above his former one). I
said, I wish that—{suddenly changes the entire phrase) that we were
playing together.
Miss Linnit {a little disappointed, perhaps, but not showing it). Oh !
Yes, I wish we were. [Laughs and looks towards the other players.
[Romantic Youth, experiencing some difficulty in selecting the best
things out of the lot he’s got to say, is silent. LLe has just hit
upon a commencement when—•
Energetic Player. Now then, Potty ! You begin.
Eunny Man {much amused). Potty! Who’s Potty?
[Energetic Player loudly explains while Romantic Youth is taking
aim. Romantic Youth, missing his first hoop, and feeling that
he is not showing to advantage, becomes depressed.
Miss Linnit. My turn ? {Discovers dainty ankle, pretty little croquet
shoe and stocking.) Am I to go here ? (Tunny Man instructs her.
Romantic Youth thinks him officious.) May I hold, it like this ? (Ener-
getic Player explains to her the best mode of grasping the mallet.
Romantic Youth would have liked to have interfered, but has nothing
to say on the subject.) I hope I shall have better fortune than Mr.
Prinkie. (Looks coquettishly towards Romantic One, who smiles grimly
as if the world and its pleasures were nought to him now. She plays and
makes her first hoop triumphantly.) There !
Funny Man. Potty’s potted, eh ?
[General laugh, in which Romantic Youth is obliged to join, and
wishes that the Red Sea, or something, would siveep all funny
men off’ the face of the earth.
Romantic Youth {as the game progresses, sees Miss Linnit standing
apart by her ball, and gradually gets up to her side, in the “ Corsican
Brothers” Ghost style as before). You ’ve been croqued out here ?
[He tries to renumber what the dickens it was lie had arranged to say.
Miss Linnit (looking straight at him, and understanding all about it at
once). Yes. Very unkind, wasn’t it ?
Romantic Youth {absently). Yes.
[Doesn’t see that her remark leads to anything, and thinks he’s
wasting time. Miss Linnit thinks so, too.
Energetic Player (interrupting some stroke in the middle of the ground).
I say, when two balls are kissing, you know, you can’t-
[Explains what you can’t, Spc.
Romantic Youth {hazily seeing an opportunity, says in an undertone). I
didn’t know that {feels his throat getting hot, but continues) there was
kissing allowed at this game ?
[Looks at her tenderly. As there’s a powerful sun, he finds that a
couple of seconds of fixed gazing makes his eyes water. He averts
them, and is conscious of blinking unromantically.
Miss Linnit {who xoon’tfollow suit, says carelessly). Didn’t you?
Romantic Youth {feels inclined to say, angrily, “No, I didn’t,” but
substitutes, in a plaintive tone). I’ve been longing to see you for-
[Zs going to add, “ the last three days,” when—
Energetic Player {unconsciously). Now then, Two Blue {that is, Miss
Linnit) it’s your turn.
Miss Linnit {not am»-oving of too powerful a demonstration in public).
Oh, I beg your pardon, I’m sure.
[At once hits her ball sharply, and walks after it.
Romantic Youth (looks after her bitterly, and wishes that he hadn’t
wasted his time in talking about croquet instead of saying something to the
point. Sighs.) Ah !
Funny Man. Now then, Potty, show us what you can do. (Romantic
Youth wishes he might show him what he could do, and then misses an easy
stroke.) Oh, butter-fingers !
[General laugh. Romantic One thinks what a conceited ass that
fellow is.
Chatty Young Lady. I’m afraid I can’t do this stroke without
spooning. May I spoon ?
Funny Man {loudly). You mayn’t spoon alone.
[A titter. He laughs heartily at his own wit. Romantic Youth sees
a real opportunity gone, and hates Tunny Man.
Energetic Player {at the winning end of the ground). Now, I’m a
rover!
Miss Dowdy {with the slyness of an uncertain age, to Romantic Youth).
I’m afraid that’s the character of many gentlemen.
Romantic Youth {wondering what right she has to talk like this).
What! A rover ? {Determines not to give her any encouragement.)
Oh, yes.
[Looks with envy towards Miss Linnit, who is making most success-
ful hits under the personal superintendence of the Tunny Man.
Miss Doicdy {sentimentally). Croquet’s very like life.
Romantic Youth {feeling uncommonly matter-of-fact). Is it ?
Miss Dowdy. Ah ! You’ve no poetry, I’m afraid. Don’t you recol-
lect those beautiful lines-
Funny Man {shouting). Now, Potty, no “spooning!” You must
come and play your stroke.
Miss Dowdy {simpering). Spooning! How absurd, to be sure !
[Miss Linnit enjoys the joke. Everybody does. Romantic Youth
hates everybody far the rest of the game.
Trom which it may be seen that your party must be carefully chosen
if the “ opportunities ” are to be made satisfactorily available.
HOW TO CLEAR THE PARK.
Mr. Punch has received several admirable suggestions. If they
have arrived a little late they will do for any future emergency:—
1st Method. Let the park be filled with fire engines. Let the fire
engines play soap-and-water on the Great Unwashed. Let the engineers
be very particular about the soap.
2nd Method. Put one of our leading tragedians in the park as Hamlet.
The moral effect of this would be marvellous.
3rd Method. Keep it perpetually undermined with gunpowder.
(Slightly troublesome this, perhaps.)
4th Method. Turn the animals from the Zoological Gardens loose into
the park.
A New Peer and an Old Joke.
Sir Edward Bulwer’siiow Lord Lytton,
Proclaim the fact from Wight to Arran:
Richly and variously he’s written,
But now we all must call him—Barren.
Poetical Motto for Salmon.—“ We are Seve(r)n.”