DOI Heft:
January 4, 1868
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16881#0017
January 4, 1863.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHAP TV ART.
to fight the gin-shop and tap-room on fair terms. Both will be open
when the people, whom the one is meant to educate, and the other
serves to brutify, are released from work. The usual English rule is
to drive the people into objectionable places of recreation by shutting
up the unobjectionable ones when they are freest to resort to them.
But these promoters, knowing the place and the people they are serving,
have arranged matters otherwise. Hitherto, the only flowers grown
in Bethnal Green have been those sad ones, which cheer the gloom of
the poor weaver’s garret, or the still sadder ones that glow with a
mocking splendour on the silk or velvet in the loom, at which twelve
hours’ daily toil hardly keeps life and soul together. These are surely
funereal flowers—flowers of sorrow and despair. The flowers that
blossom in the Museum Garden should be flowers of Hope. These
blessed flowers may be made to grow even under that sullen and
smoke-laden sky, and this effort is sowing the seed of them.
A FEW FRIENDS.
(FROM MY PHOTOGRAPH BOOK.)
TABLEAU XI.—THE LONG-ENGAGED.
Just to run over her family, and have done with them.
By the way, a cruel form of expression the above.
I said Sophia was the youngest of four, and the eldest of five. The
three first we have seen. The five after Sophia form the tail of the
Chertton family, its tip (not speaking as my Funny Friend would
say, in a sporting sense) being George Francis Augustus, one year
and a half old, who cries whenever he sees me, causing Mrs. Chert-
ton to explain to him in infantile language what I am and why I am
there, with little ill-natured remarks thrown in to the baby, but at me,
on my general personal appearance or my manner.
The other four are Lyddy, a pert, sharp girl of fourteen ; Johnny,
twelve years old, who’s always at home on account of some illness at
school, and Milicent, aged seven, who is of a malicious disposition,
and entirely under her brother’s coercion. They are dreadfully de-
ceptive children, so quiet and demure when in their Mamma’s presence,
so rude and boisterous when she’s away.
Once, on Master Johnny coming up slily and knocking a book out
of my hand, 1 boxed his ears.
Never again will I take upon myself to correct other people’s
children. His two sisters (then ten and five) set upon me, he howled,
and ran straight to Mrs. Chertton to complain. Down she came in
a tantrum, “ What had Johnny been doing?” and “ Why did I hit
him ? ”
I couldn’t lower myself by saying, “ Well, he hit me first,” which
was the truth ; and I felt that I should be including myself among the
children if I entered into an explanation. On the other hand, to
suggest that the little brute was howling for nothing, would only
elicit the reply (from him) “ That he wasn’t,” and from his Mamma,
that “ Her children didn’t cry for nothing.”
So I said “ I thought he deserved it,” and offered no further remark.
Then there arose a storm. The elder sisters came in : all joined, even
Sophia Theresa herself, and the engagement was on the point of
being broken off then and there, had not old Chertton suddenly
come home from the City and brought unexpectedly two friends to
dinner. The old goose saved the citadel. Johnny got his ears boxed
again by his Mamma for getting in her way, and subsequently meeting
the child on the landing, on his way up to bed, I made vengeful faces
at him, and then ran down-stairs as quickly as possible, in order to
establish an alibi in case of inquiry.
We (Theresa and 1) fell in love with one another in the country—at
a pic-mc. She was seventeen then Everybody said it was too young
to marry. We were to wait till I was settled. For six years I’ve
been trying to get settled. Becoming Inspector under the Olfactory
Act was most unsettling. Before that, I tried every appointment
ever offered for public competition. Four years ago, I thought my
fortune was made, in consequence of the interest possessed by a distant
connection of mine with the Governors of Bedlam. I mean, I was to
have got the post of Secretary to the Lunatic Asylum. But, unfor-
tunately, on my presenting myself to the Governors, I found that there
was some mystification somewhere, and on mentioning the name of my
distant and influential connection, the gentlemen looked at one another,
then referred to an entry in the Hospital book, and there, sure enough,
was the name of my unfortunate relative figuring among the least
hopeful class of patients recently submitted to their care. I bowed,
and retired. I hadn’t the heart to ask for the Distant and Influential.
It was a severe blow to my Great Aunt, who had always spoken of him
to me as “the cleverest member of our family, who will be of great
service to you one of these days.”
My Great Aunt could settle me, I believe, if she liked. But she
won’t; and I haven’t the smallest idea what’s in her will. She can’t
allow me anything to marry on, she says, and, for my part, I believe
she doesn’t want to lose my companionship. I don’t think she takes
lax views of society, but she is decidedly averse to my marriage.
Sometimes she becomes pathetic, aud says, “Ah, you’re getting tired
pf me; I’m a nuisance and a trouble, I know;” and all I can reply,
is, in a tone of kind remonstrance, “ My dear Aunt! ” though what I
am expected to say beyond this, I don’t precisely know. She has
lately taken to driving into the City twice a week, to see her broker,
and has one penn’orth a day of the Times newspaper, from nine till
eleven, for the sake of the money article. Formerly, from economical
motives, she only had a ha’porth of Times per diem ; that is she only
took in the advertisement sheet with the births, deaths, and marriages
in it. However, she won’t settle or make any provision for me. She
points out to me that I’ve got my Olfactory Inspectorship, and that’s
enough.
This being the state of affairs for six years, I have got so accustomed
to being engaged to Sophia Theresa that I scarcely realise any other
position.
During the first three months of our engagement, we were always
together. Gradually, we didn’t see so much of one another. I didn’t
miss her. I had begged old Chertton to let us correspond. It was
delicious—in its commencement. A letter a day, crossed and re-crossed.
Verses, too. Then gradually it came to “ Dear Theresa,—Sorry I
have not time to write more, but must go out now on business. These
dreadful Factories ! Your ever devoted,” &c.
Then, in the next stage, I would say, suddenly, “ Confound it, I
haven’t written to Theresa,” and I’d apologise next day. Two
weeks passed without a letter, and then, going down at the end of
the month to meet her by appointment (a deuced bore, as I wanted to
dine with some fellows in town, and ’twas my last day’s holiday) I
missed the train, and she was kept waiting for two hours. I brought
her a bracelet on that occasion, but it was acknowledged with a
frigidity which I felt, under the circumstances, I deserved.
Once I called on her, very hot and uncomfortable, and said, in an
injured tone, after seeing her receive the attentions of a good-looking
young man in the Artillery, at a ball, “ If our engagement wearies you,
Theresa, let us break it off. Don’t let me stand in the way of your
happiness.” It was no good : she stuck to it, they stuck to it (1 mean
the Cherttons) like leeches.
I once hinted to my Aunt, confidentially, that she might take upon
herself to call upon the old Cherttons and refuse her consent. She
did call; but, owing to the high state of nervous excitement she was
thrown into, fainted, and on recovery was supplied with such unusually
strong brandy as to render any communications on her part utterly
unintelligible.
On the day when my Late Friend prevented my departure for the
Continent I called at the Cherttons.
Old Chertton was at home. Would I speak with him? alone?
decidedly: not being afraid of Old Chertton. Well, then, what he
had got to say, was, in fact—-it was—ahem ! delicate. It took him an
hour to break the intelligence to me that Sophia Theresa had fallen
in love with somebody else, and he left it to my kind sense of, &c., &c.,
honour, &c., &c , and so forth. At that moment I felt I could have
done anything for Sophia Theresa. As for the man (it was the
Artillery officer) I could have wrung his hand and called him my true
friend. I believe on meeting him I complimented him on behaving
like an officer and a gentleman; but I haven’t a notion of what I
meant by it. Old Chertton wept, and said I had a generous noble
nature. This pleased me, and I have allowed him to remain under
this impression. I saw Sophia Theresa for two minutes that even-
ing : pressed her hand; said “ Good bye,” turned away, and hurried
off. I went to a supper party the same night, and never was in such
spirits. I said such funny things that even Grigg laughed, and at
last I utterly outshone him in his own peculiar line.
As 1 write, I am free, free as air, I mean as an engaged man. I
send back her letters with pleasure. The presents among them, a set
of studs and wrist-links, 1 am bound in honour to return. I regret it.
But on the other hand, back came my bracelet, two rings, a brooch.
They’ll do for another time.
To-morrow I go for my holiday, whether my Late Friend will come or
not. I’ve only got one call to make, that is on my Portable Friend
(this next picture), who wishes to give me some advice about travel-
ling, and then I close my photograph book for the present.
The Only Way to Home.
Italy is said to be organising an army on a footing of 1,641,000 men.
“ This tune goes manly.” In applying this quotation to the Italian
army we simply mean that the Italians, iu organising the army by
means of which only they can get to Rome, are playing the man, aud
not the grinding organ.___
Scientific Intelligence.—It is understood that the subject of
the next Bakerian Lecture, to be delivered before the Royal Society,
will be the Earth’s Crust. __
A Tramsformation Scene.—Making a Railway.
Von. 54.
1—2
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHAP TV ART.
to fight the gin-shop and tap-room on fair terms. Both will be open
when the people, whom the one is meant to educate, and the other
serves to brutify, are released from work. The usual English rule is
to drive the people into objectionable places of recreation by shutting
up the unobjectionable ones when they are freest to resort to them.
But these promoters, knowing the place and the people they are serving,
have arranged matters otherwise. Hitherto, the only flowers grown
in Bethnal Green have been those sad ones, which cheer the gloom of
the poor weaver’s garret, or the still sadder ones that glow with a
mocking splendour on the silk or velvet in the loom, at which twelve
hours’ daily toil hardly keeps life and soul together. These are surely
funereal flowers—flowers of sorrow and despair. The flowers that
blossom in the Museum Garden should be flowers of Hope. These
blessed flowers may be made to grow even under that sullen and
smoke-laden sky, and this effort is sowing the seed of them.
A FEW FRIENDS.
(FROM MY PHOTOGRAPH BOOK.)
TABLEAU XI.—THE LONG-ENGAGED.
Just to run over her family, and have done with them.
By the way, a cruel form of expression the above.
I said Sophia was the youngest of four, and the eldest of five. The
three first we have seen. The five after Sophia form the tail of the
Chertton family, its tip (not speaking as my Funny Friend would
say, in a sporting sense) being George Francis Augustus, one year
and a half old, who cries whenever he sees me, causing Mrs. Chert-
ton to explain to him in infantile language what I am and why I am
there, with little ill-natured remarks thrown in to the baby, but at me,
on my general personal appearance or my manner.
The other four are Lyddy, a pert, sharp girl of fourteen ; Johnny,
twelve years old, who’s always at home on account of some illness at
school, and Milicent, aged seven, who is of a malicious disposition,
and entirely under her brother’s coercion. They are dreadfully de-
ceptive children, so quiet and demure when in their Mamma’s presence,
so rude and boisterous when she’s away.
Once, on Master Johnny coming up slily and knocking a book out
of my hand, 1 boxed his ears.
Never again will I take upon myself to correct other people’s
children. His two sisters (then ten and five) set upon me, he howled,
and ran straight to Mrs. Chertton to complain. Down she came in
a tantrum, “ What had Johnny been doing?” and “ Why did I hit
him ? ”
I couldn’t lower myself by saying, “ Well, he hit me first,” which
was the truth ; and I felt that I should be including myself among the
children if I entered into an explanation. On the other hand, to
suggest that the little brute was howling for nothing, would only
elicit the reply (from him) “ That he wasn’t,” and from his Mamma,
that “ Her children didn’t cry for nothing.”
So I said “ I thought he deserved it,” and offered no further remark.
Then there arose a storm. The elder sisters came in : all joined, even
Sophia Theresa herself, and the engagement was on the point of
being broken off then and there, had not old Chertton suddenly
come home from the City and brought unexpectedly two friends to
dinner. The old goose saved the citadel. Johnny got his ears boxed
again by his Mamma for getting in her way, and subsequently meeting
the child on the landing, on his way up to bed, I made vengeful faces
at him, and then ran down-stairs as quickly as possible, in order to
establish an alibi in case of inquiry.
We (Theresa and 1) fell in love with one another in the country—at
a pic-mc. She was seventeen then Everybody said it was too young
to marry. We were to wait till I was settled. For six years I’ve
been trying to get settled. Becoming Inspector under the Olfactory
Act was most unsettling. Before that, I tried every appointment
ever offered for public competition. Four years ago, I thought my
fortune was made, in consequence of the interest possessed by a distant
connection of mine with the Governors of Bedlam. I mean, I was to
have got the post of Secretary to the Lunatic Asylum. But, unfor-
tunately, on my presenting myself to the Governors, I found that there
was some mystification somewhere, and on mentioning the name of my
distant and influential connection, the gentlemen looked at one another,
then referred to an entry in the Hospital book, and there, sure enough,
was the name of my unfortunate relative figuring among the least
hopeful class of patients recently submitted to their care. I bowed,
and retired. I hadn’t the heart to ask for the Distant and Influential.
It was a severe blow to my Great Aunt, who had always spoken of him
to me as “the cleverest member of our family, who will be of great
service to you one of these days.”
My Great Aunt could settle me, I believe, if she liked. But she
won’t; and I haven’t the smallest idea what’s in her will. She can’t
allow me anything to marry on, she says, and, for my part, I believe
she doesn’t want to lose my companionship. I don’t think she takes
lax views of society, but she is decidedly averse to my marriage.
Sometimes she becomes pathetic, aud says, “Ah, you’re getting tired
pf me; I’m a nuisance and a trouble, I know;” and all I can reply,
is, in a tone of kind remonstrance, “ My dear Aunt! ” though what I
am expected to say beyond this, I don’t precisely know. She has
lately taken to driving into the City twice a week, to see her broker,
and has one penn’orth a day of the Times newspaper, from nine till
eleven, for the sake of the money article. Formerly, from economical
motives, she only had a ha’porth of Times per diem ; that is she only
took in the advertisement sheet with the births, deaths, and marriages
in it. However, she won’t settle or make any provision for me. She
points out to me that I’ve got my Olfactory Inspectorship, and that’s
enough.
This being the state of affairs for six years, I have got so accustomed
to being engaged to Sophia Theresa that I scarcely realise any other
position.
During the first three months of our engagement, we were always
together. Gradually, we didn’t see so much of one another. I didn’t
miss her. I had begged old Chertton to let us correspond. It was
delicious—in its commencement. A letter a day, crossed and re-crossed.
Verses, too. Then gradually it came to “ Dear Theresa,—Sorry I
have not time to write more, but must go out now on business. These
dreadful Factories ! Your ever devoted,” &c.
Then, in the next stage, I would say, suddenly, “ Confound it, I
haven’t written to Theresa,” and I’d apologise next day. Two
weeks passed without a letter, and then, going down at the end of
the month to meet her by appointment (a deuced bore, as I wanted to
dine with some fellows in town, and ’twas my last day’s holiday) I
missed the train, and she was kept waiting for two hours. I brought
her a bracelet on that occasion, but it was acknowledged with a
frigidity which I felt, under the circumstances, I deserved.
Once I called on her, very hot and uncomfortable, and said, in an
injured tone, after seeing her receive the attentions of a good-looking
young man in the Artillery, at a ball, “ If our engagement wearies you,
Theresa, let us break it off. Don’t let me stand in the way of your
happiness.” It was no good : she stuck to it, they stuck to it (1 mean
the Cherttons) like leeches.
I once hinted to my Aunt, confidentially, that she might take upon
herself to call upon the old Cherttons and refuse her consent. She
did call; but, owing to the high state of nervous excitement she was
thrown into, fainted, and on recovery was supplied with such unusually
strong brandy as to render any communications on her part utterly
unintelligible.
On the day when my Late Friend prevented my departure for the
Continent I called at the Cherttons.
Old Chertton was at home. Would I speak with him? alone?
decidedly: not being afraid of Old Chertton. Well, then, what he
had got to say, was, in fact—-it was—ahem ! delicate. It took him an
hour to break the intelligence to me that Sophia Theresa had fallen
in love with somebody else, and he left it to my kind sense of, &c., &c.,
honour, &c., &c , and so forth. At that moment I felt I could have
done anything for Sophia Theresa. As for the man (it was the
Artillery officer) I could have wrung his hand and called him my true
friend. I believe on meeting him I complimented him on behaving
like an officer and a gentleman; but I haven’t a notion of what I
meant by it. Old Chertton wept, and said I had a generous noble
nature. This pleased me, and I have allowed him to remain under
this impression. I saw Sophia Theresa for two minutes that even-
ing : pressed her hand; said “ Good bye,” turned away, and hurried
off. I went to a supper party the same night, and never was in such
spirits. I said such funny things that even Grigg laughed, and at
last I utterly outshone him in his own peculiar line.
As 1 write, I am free, free as air, I mean as an engaged man. I
send back her letters with pleasure. The presents among them, a set
of studs and wrist-links, 1 am bound in honour to return. I regret it.
But on the other hand, back came my bracelet, two rings, a brooch.
They’ll do for another time.
To-morrow I go for my holiday, whether my Late Friend will come or
not. I’ve only got one call to make, that is on my Portable Friend
(this next picture), who wishes to give me some advice about travel-
ling, and then I close my photograph book for the present.
The Only Way to Home.
Italy is said to be organising an army on a footing of 1,641,000 men.
“ This tune goes manly.” In applying this quotation to the Italian
army we simply mean that the Italians, iu organising the army by
means of which only they can get to Rome, are playing the man, aud
not the grinding organ.___
Scientific Intelligence.—It is understood that the subject of
the next Bakerian Lecture, to be delivered before the Royal Society,
will be the Earth’s Crust. __
A Tramsformation Scene.—Making a Railway.
Von. 54.
1—2