Punch (51.1866)

PUNCH., OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [September 22, 1866.

SEASONABLE LUXURY.

Old Gent (disgusted). “Here, Waiter! Here’s a—here’s a—-a—Cater-
pillar in this Chop ! ”

Waiter {flippantly). “Yessir. About the time o’ Year for ’em just now,
Sir ! ”

A VOICE AMONG THE BRAES.

{Lines by a Lady Tourist.)

0 Edward, 0 mine own !

Those echoes wake again ;

1 love to hear that trumpet tone,

Arouse this lovely glen.

There’s Scotland’s prickly flower,

With bloom of purple blee ;

It bids defiance to the power
Of all the world but Thee !

And thou hast borne me here.

In solitude profound;

To pour thy voice into mine ear—
Repeat the charming souud!

Behold yon crystal lake !

Come, bear me to its brink.

My Edward there his thirst may slake.
Though he is choice of drink.'

Would I, if to proceed,

Thou, Edward, should’st decline,
With cruel hand enforce thy speed ?

Oh never, Edward, mine !

1 ’d feed thee, cheer thee, try
Persuasion’s patient ways.

0 Edward, lift thy voice on high
Once more among the braes !

All my Eye.

Respecting the late well-known astronomer, M. Her-
man Goldschmidt, newspapers declare that:—

“ Though only an amateur in the science, he had discovered the
telescopic planets, and his only instrument was a common opera-
glass.”

Surely not a common opera-glass. The opera-glass must
have been an uncommon one. A common opera-glass will
not render telescopic planets visible to an astronomer, and
can only enable him to make observations on certain his-
trionic Stars.

“ The Master of The Horse.”—Lord Lyon's owner.

THE MEETING OF THE WINES.

A Highly-priced Meeting of established old Wines was recently
held at The Green Seal in Cork Street, called together to consider
their present position and future prospects. Old Port, who met with
a most cordial reception, presided, and opened the proceedings by re-
marking that he and his fellow-decanters felt it to be their duty, he
might say their wine-duty, to broach a subject which, in the privacy
of their particular bins, and the seclusion of their own saw-dust, they
had long and soberly discussed. Born in the year ’20, he was of an
age to remember the good old drinking times, and the contrast between
their convivialities and the effeminate sobriety of the modern mahogany
often racked him with anguish, and caused him to pipe his eye in
secret sorrow. But they had not met bj^ the dozen to whine over this
sad change, although he feared the doctrines of those amiable fanatics,
the teetotallers, {hisses and confusion,) were being rapidly imbibed by all
classes, even by the very top crust of society, for only the other
day he was disturbed by hearing that a nobleman of high rank
regaled his guests with—ginger cordial. {Here a shudder of horror ran
through the whole wine-party.) No, it was not a selfish motive that had
induced them to exchange the calm quiet of the cellar for the heat and
ferment of the platform, for they had made a pretty good thing out of
the British public, and would have been satisfied to rest tranquil in
their ancestral cobwebs ; but a regard for the nerves, the temper, the
digestive apparatus, the internal mechanism of the human frame com-
pelled them to warn the nation against those low-priced and pernicious
compositions with which the kingdom was now flooded, boldly placarded
as Pori, and Sherry in the windows of every grocer, confectioner, and
licensed victualler, until they, the long-descended wines of genuine
foreign extraction, were ashamed of their names and vintages. The
veteran Port, whose remarks were hailed with a storm of applause,
and heeltaps, concluded by calling on his friend, Excellent Sherri7,
to address the Meeting.

Excellent Sherry, in bis natural dry manner, lamented the decay of

the golden age, protested against others making a butt of him, declared
he was done brown, and solemnly assured his brother bottles that he
frequently turned pale at the thought of the stuff consumed under his
name, especially by ladies and the humbler clergv, to whose consciences
and digestions he made a most impressive appeal. He closed by saying
that he had a great regard for his poor relation, Marsala, but must
entreat him not to suffer himself to be handed round (along with sweet
biscuits) as Sherry.

[At this pint in the proceedings the venerable Madeira was in-
troduced, having just arrived from a long voyage, and placed hi his
decanter with every mark of respect.]

Claret said he had drunk in every word that had been dropped, and
thought no respectable wine ought any longer to bottle up his wrath at
the indignities he was exposed to; but though somewhat corky and
inclined to pour forth his grievances, in humble imitation of the for-
bearance of their exhilarating Cheerman he should only say, as to
much of the Lafitte in circulation, that he felt disposed to laugh it to
scorn; and of the Medoc he met with in society, one word would
express his opinion—mediocre. He must add that he had no connec-
tion with the fluid he saw ticketed at Ls. a bottle. {Sensation)

Champagne, who could no longer be kept in, was up the instant
Claret resumed his jug, and indulged in some sparklhig allusions to
the common gooseberry and familiar rhubarb. He was followed by
Moselle and Hock, who both rose together, as they found it impossible
to be still any longer, but being slightly elevated the Cheerman put
them down. The bottles then broke up, and things took a convivial
turn.

Amongst the company we noticed Vin de Grave _ (looking very
serious), Tokay (with an Imperial), Burgundy white _ with rage,
which he could hardly gulp down, Hermitage in a retired corner.
Mountain hampered with Tent, and Chablis, who protested against
the practice of servants calling him Shabby.

Several Greek, Hungarian and Sicilian wines were unable to obtain
admission.