Punch (53.1867)

seo

[December 28, 1867.


PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

THE CHRISTMAS CHIGNON.

ADDRESS TO AN ELEMENTARY
SUBSTANCE,

On the threatened Public-homes Closing Extension Aci.

Simple body, that art found
Chiefly on volcanic ground,

Primrose in thy native hue.

When ignited burning blue.

Of the three ingredients one
In the fuel of the gun.

Mingled, in division fine.

With interior fat of swine,

Thou canst cure the Northern ail.

Eased, but for the worse, by nail.

Couldst thou heal its every kind,

Thou wouldst comfort many a mind.

Lo, that pest, John Abel Smith,

With vexatious Baines, and with
Meddling Bazlky, once again
Leagued, on holidays to pen
People out of tavern doors !

O the three confounded bores 1

Sulphur, would that use of thee,

Tried upon, could rid, those three
Prigs of their affection sore ;

That their fingers might no more
Ttch for power to interfere
Between the people and their beer!

Romeo Past and Present.

A very old gentleman the other day, during Miss
Vestvali’s performances, remarked, at the Megatherium;
“When I was a boy, there was a Romeo Coates, and
now, Sir, now I understand there is a Petticoats Romeo.

A Alue-belle of Scotland.—Authoress of John Hali-
fax, Gentleman.


A FEW FRIENDS.

(FROM MY PHOTOGRAPH BOOK.)

TABLEAU X.—MY CONFIDENTIAL FRIEND—(Continued.)

To Sophia Teresa or Theresa Chertton I have been, as I have
had occasion to remark before when we first came to her portrait,
engaged for the last five or six years. I say five or six, because now
it doesn’t much matter.

Sophia is the youngest of four and the eldest of five. I don’t mind
the first part of this, but I object to (I was going to say I hate) the
latter

The Eldest. I have portraits of all of them, you may be sure ; but
as I have no wish to assist or interfere with Mrs. Chertton’s matri-
monial plans, I shall not dwell upon them.

The Eldest of the family is quite married; I mean, she has been a
mother for several years. I like her : she doesn’t come across me, in
fact 1 only see her occasionally, and have never caught more than
glimpses, so to speak, of her, as she became Mrs. Winsley when 1
was first formally engaged to Sophia Teresa.

Ttie Second has retired from the world; that is, she takes vows by
the fortnight or the month, to some High Church Superioress, and
goes out for what she calls Church-work in a Quakerish-iooking dress.
From what I hear, she “ has words ” with the Superioress once every
four weeks, and has several severe things to say about the conduct of
certain among the Sisters of the Cloister.

I am bound to say that I believe she does a great deal of good, and
if she wouldn’t attack me at all meal-times on Church matters, and lead
me into arguments, where she has it all her own way, being a very
positive young lady (for I can’t contradict her without being rude), I
should like her very much. The photograph is of Anne, in her sister-
hood’s dress—in fact, as Sister Anne. Mrs. Chertton, a sensible
woman on some points, thinks that she could do all her charitable work
without her grey dress; and old Mr. Chertton (who is in the City
from 9 a.m. till 5 p.m.—very prim at 9, and very shady at 5) calls it a
parcel of Puseyite nonsense, and asks her if she hasn’t got duties to
her sisterhood at home. But Anne only turns up her eyes (fine eyes,
too) and I think looks upon her parent as a sort of irreclaimable

Daddy Longlegs, who won’t say his prayers, and who therefore knows
nothing about the matter.

Being engaged to Sophia for six years, has made me, apparently,
the family property.

Old Chertton wants something done. Freddy (meaning me) will
do it. Mrs. Chertton requires anything at any distance off, entailing
cabs and telegraphic messages: Freddy will do it; and pay for
it, too. . .

They want to make up their number at dinner—I am called in.
They want to decrease their number to something even—I am called
out, and requested to drop in, afterwards, in the evening.

Does Sister Anne want to let off her temper in an argument,
then am I to be argued with.

Does Nelly want some one to find “ The Deserted,” I must offer to
look for it; or to turn over the pages of music (a dreadfully responsible
post), I am sent to her side.

Number Three is the musical one of the family; she is perpetually
practising the piano and getting into difficulties with her pieces of
music, which she mislays or loses as soon as they are bought. I am
always hunting for “ Tell me, my Heart,” which I find in the fauteuil
with a false cushion to lift and keep music under. “ Soft and Low ” is
another favourite reported missing whenever wanted. “ The Deserted ”
has perhaps given me more trouble than all her other songs put
together.

By the way. I wish some one would put them together and keep
them in order.

Not Too Common.

Shy Eleanor has such a horror of being thought forward, that she
is taking the greatest pains to alter the character of her writing, having
been told that hers is “ a bold hand.”

THE SHOP AND THE STAGE.

An Apothecary describes the version of the Doge of Vmice performed
at Drury Lane as Histura Byron: Comp:

Not Exactly a Riddle.—What is the sensation that an educated
person derives from a sensational novel? A sensation of nausea.