DOI Heft:
December 15, 1866
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16878#0247
December 15, 1866. | PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
239
OLD BROWN,
Who, thanks to the admirable Arrangements of the South-Eastern Com-
pany, HAS JUST ENDURED THE HORRORS OF A TWELVE HOURS’ PASSAGE FROM
Boulogne, does not Appreciate this customary Joke at all.
THIS QUACK'S FARTHING.
Whenever a thief doth come to grief
in his attempt to plunder :
With heart and voice we do rejoice,
And shout hurrah like thunder.
The rascally quacks, how wroth they ’ll wax,
And howl with fear and fury.
When they peruse, in the public news,
The award of a British Jury !
Crying—“Out on the British Jury !
Confound that British Jury !
We can no more,
Rely, as of yore,
On the brains of a British Jury.
Time was, a Q ack did the Press attack,
When he brought his legal action ;
And twelve fools gave, the dirty knave,
A swingeing satisfaction.
Which counsel’s jaw, if he go to law,
No longer will secure : he
May sue in vain, or a farthing gain,
The award of a British Jury.
Crying, &c.
He must bear the lash, or lose his cash,
For his lawyer’s bootless trouble ;
And besides he may have costs to pay.
His loss which will redouble.
Sing hey for the Judge, who is up to fudge,
And my Lord Chief Justice, you’re he ;
Having ruled that a Quack, exposed, should lack
The award of a British Jury.
Crying. &c.
Statistics of Penal Discipline.
Six garotters were flogged the other day at Newgate, in
the presence of the prison authorities. Their names were
Henry Wilson, Charles Everett, Michael Mack,
David Benjamin, George Nain, and William White.
Their united ages amounted to 157 years, the sum total of
the number of lashes they received was 145, and they will,
collectively, retire into 40 years of penal servitude.
A Smiling Countenance is “ The Happy Mien.”
A CASE OF REAL DISTRESS,
j Dear Mr. Punch,
There are some folks in the world who can’t let other folks
alone, and, unluckily for me, my friend Mrs. Cuddlewell happens to
be one of them. She is really, I must own, a most estimable woman:
as a wife and as a mother, her behaviour is most admirable ; but I can-
not say I think she is quite faultless as a friend. She is, however,
sensible enough to read Punch pretty regularly, and that is why I beg
of you to let me say a word or two about the way in which she worries
me, and other nice young men with whom she happens to be intimate.
She may relent from teasing, when she sees herself in print.
A better creature hardly can exist than Mrs. Cuddlewell, but her
fault is that she never can be friendly with a fellow without doing all
she can to make a married man of him. She is for ever preaching little
sermons on the benefits of wedlock, and showing how, to her view, it is
selfish in a man to attempt to live a bachelor after he is thirty. From
that age until sixty, no single man is safe with her. You may be sure
when you receive an invitation to her house, that she wants to intro-
duce you to some “ charming girl” or other. Her house is certainly a
pleasant one, and yon are sure to meet nice people there ; but, 1 own,
these “charming girls” have well nigh frightened me away from it. I
like croquet well enough, but it becomes a precious bore when one is
asked to play it daily for some five hours at a stretch, and with always
the same “ charming girl ” selected for one’s partner. I like a pic-nic
very well, but I also like variety ; and this is not attainable when one
has a “ charming girl ” confided to one’s care, and special steps are
taken to prevent one’s being civil to any other charmer. Like a cat
upon a mouse, Mrs. Cuddlewell keeps constant watch upon a single
man, and pounces on him in a moment if she ever finds him straying
from the girl she has picked out for him. She is constantly inventing
the most delightful opportunities for fellows to make love, and planning
those snug tete-a-tetes which are so likely to provoke it. Her garden
and conservatory are full of quiet nooks where there is a seat for two,
and every seat placed there may be regarded as a man-trap.
Now, falling in love is one thing, but pitfalling is another. A man
dislikes the thought of being; trapped into a marriage. Let “charming
girls” by all means be asked to meet young fellows, but let the men
alone to profit by the meeting. A man is pretty sure to find a wife
when he desires one; and nothing is more likely to deter him from a
marriage than to be continually advising him to marry. He naturally
feels frightened, and as timid as a hare, when he finds that he is hunted
by a pack of marriers.
Hoping Mrs. Cuddlewell, and all the other match-makers, will
take the hint J proffer them, allow me to subscribe myself,
Yours, in single blessedness,
The Hermitage, Tuesday. Cillers Solon Smith.
A Palpable Error.
Impossible that there should have been, as some affirm, youths,
apparently apprentices, in the Reform procession, for everyone who
walked from the Mall to Beaufort House must have been a journey-
man.
IIOW TO GET RID OF WEEDS.
Always put your Cigar-case and its contents at the service of your
friends.
Why do Young Ladies confess that Ritualistic Curates are a
desirable speculation ? Because they are pretty in-vestments.
Song for the Hyde Park Roughs.—“ Rule, Britannia, Bri-
tannia rules the Mayne ! ”
The Height of Politeness.—Exemplified in our favourite jockey
who never omits to call upon his horse.
239
OLD BROWN,
Who, thanks to the admirable Arrangements of the South-Eastern Com-
pany, HAS JUST ENDURED THE HORRORS OF A TWELVE HOURS’ PASSAGE FROM
Boulogne, does not Appreciate this customary Joke at all.
THIS QUACK'S FARTHING.
Whenever a thief doth come to grief
in his attempt to plunder :
With heart and voice we do rejoice,
And shout hurrah like thunder.
The rascally quacks, how wroth they ’ll wax,
And howl with fear and fury.
When they peruse, in the public news,
The award of a British Jury !
Crying—“Out on the British Jury !
Confound that British Jury !
We can no more,
Rely, as of yore,
On the brains of a British Jury.
Time was, a Q ack did the Press attack,
When he brought his legal action ;
And twelve fools gave, the dirty knave,
A swingeing satisfaction.
Which counsel’s jaw, if he go to law,
No longer will secure : he
May sue in vain, or a farthing gain,
The award of a British Jury.
Crying, &c.
He must bear the lash, or lose his cash,
For his lawyer’s bootless trouble ;
And besides he may have costs to pay.
His loss which will redouble.
Sing hey for the Judge, who is up to fudge,
And my Lord Chief Justice, you’re he ;
Having ruled that a Quack, exposed, should lack
The award of a British Jury.
Crying. &c.
Statistics of Penal Discipline.
Six garotters were flogged the other day at Newgate, in
the presence of the prison authorities. Their names were
Henry Wilson, Charles Everett, Michael Mack,
David Benjamin, George Nain, and William White.
Their united ages amounted to 157 years, the sum total of
the number of lashes they received was 145, and they will,
collectively, retire into 40 years of penal servitude.
A Smiling Countenance is “ The Happy Mien.”
A CASE OF REAL DISTRESS,
j Dear Mr. Punch,
There are some folks in the world who can’t let other folks
alone, and, unluckily for me, my friend Mrs. Cuddlewell happens to
be one of them. She is really, I must own, a most estimable woman:
as a wife and as a mother, her behaviour is most admirable ; but I can-
not say I think she is quite faultless as a friend. She is, however,
sensible enough to read Punch pretty regularly, and that is why I beg
of you to let me say a word or two about the way in which she worries
me, and other nice young men with whom she happens to be intimate.
She may relent from teasing, when she sees herself in print.
A better creature hardly can exist than Mrs. Cuddlewell, but her
fault is that she never can be friendly with a fellow without doing all
she can to make a married man of him. She is for ever preaching little
sermons on the benefits of wedlock, and showing how, to her view, it is
selfish in a man to attempt to live a bachelor after he is thirty. From
that age until sixty, no single man is safe with her. You may be sure
when you receive an invitation to her house, that she wants to intro-
duce you to some “ charming girl” or other. Her house is certainly a
pleasant one, and yon are sure to meet nice people there ; but, 1 own,
these “charming girls” have well nigh frightened me away from it. I
like croquet well enough, but it becomes a precious bore when one is
asked to play it daily for some five hours at a stretch, and with always
the same “ charming girl ” selected for one’s partner. I like a pic-nic
very well, but I also like variety ; and this is not attainable when one
has a “ charming girl ” confided to one’s care, and special steps are
taken to prevent one’s being civil to any other charmer. Like a cat
upon a mouse, Mrs. Cuddlewell keeps constant watch upon a single
man, and pounces on him in a moment if she ever finds him straying
from the girl she has picked out for him. She is constantly inventing
the most delightful opportunities for fellows to make love, and planning
those snug tete-a-tetes which are so likely to provoke it. Her garden
and conservatory are full of quiet nooks where there is a seat for two,
and every seat placed there may be regarded as a man-trap.
Now, falling in love is one thing, but pitfalling is another. A man
dislikes the thought of being; trapped into a marriage. Let “charming
girls” by all means be asked to meet young fellows, but let the men
alone to profit by the meeting. A man is pretty sure to find a wife
when he desires one; and nothing is more likely to deter him from a
marriage than to be continually advising him to marry. He naturally
feels frightened, and as timid as a hare, when he finds that he is hunted
by a pack of marriers.
Hoping Mrs. Cuddlewell, and all the other match-makers, will
take the hint J proffer them, allow me to subscribe myself,
Yours, in single blessedness,
The Hermitage, Tuesday. Cillers Solon Smith.
A Palpable Error.
Impossible that there should have been, as some affirm, youths,
apparently apprentices, in the Reform procession, for everyone who
walked from the Mall to Beaufort House must have been a journey-
man.
IIOW TO GET RID OF WEEDS.
Always put your Cigar-case and its contents at the service of your
friends.
Why do Young Ladies confess that Ritualistic Curates are a
desirable speculation ? Because they are pretty in-vestments.
Song for the Hyde Park Roughs.—“ Rule, Britannia, Bri-
tannia rules the Mayne ! ”
The Height of Politeness.—Exemplified in our favourite jockey
who never omits to call upon his horse.