PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
169
October 24, 1868.
THE MARCH OF SCIENCE.
Artist (as a hint to his Friend). “ Bless me ! Five o’Clock ! I had no Idea it was
so Late. How quickly Time does fly now ! ”
Yankee. “ Which I calc’late it’s all owin’ to the vast Improvements effected
in Clocks by ocf. Great Country.”
DONKEY DINNERS.
Horse dinners were all the go a few months
since, and donkey dinners, doubtless, will ere
long be in fashion, at least if we put faith in the
paragraph that follows :—-
“ Everybody who haa eaten roast donkey has pro-
nounced it excellent. In flavour it is said to resemble
turkey, though the colour is considerably darker. The
animal in question, is a very clean feeder, cheap,
hardy, and subsists easily at little cost, and it seems
within possibility that donkeys may be reared on the
poorest commons, not only as beasts of burden for the
use of the poor, but as a luxurious addition to the
banquets of the rich.”
If I had a donkey that wouldn’t go, d’ye think
I’d waste my whipcord in walloping him ? O
no ! I’d send him to the butcher’s, sure as I’m
a living sinner, and eat him nicely roasted for
my next Sunday dinner. Such may be the reso-
lution of many a London costermonger, after
reading the above; and strict utilitarians will
probably applaud it. As novelty is charming,
we may expect that ass-flesh shortly will be
viewed as quite a luxury: and donkey-eaters
will be giving delightful little dinners, whereat
the menu will begin with delicious ass-tail soup,
aud after a few entrees, such as “ oreilles des
anes farcies aux truffes,” or “ cotelettes de l’ane
jeune a la financiere,” the banquet will conclude
with a juicy haunch of donkey, to which no
haunch of venison will be deemed worthy to
compare. We might suggest, by way of entre-
met, a salad of fresh thistles, of which the
donkey-eaters might appropriately . partake.
After the repast, we may look for a few songs
in the praise of donkey-eating, in the manner of
the following :—
Here’s a health to all fat asses !
Theirs all other meat surpasses—
Let the donkey-steak go round.
He who’d have a novel pleasure,
Let him relish at his leisure
The joys that in ass-meat abound.
Fill a bumper—’tis no thumper—
In Donkey sweetest flesh is found.
A Confiding Public.—The Tavern that Trusts.
THE EUPHONY OE COMMERCE.
Mr. Punch,—Sir,
Calling one day last week on my piclde-merchant, I was
recommended by that Purveyor of sophisticated acids to purchase an
original sauce which had given much satisfaction to his “ client,” Sir
E ~ N . “ Are you a solicitor ? ” I inquired, somewhat startled
by this strange synonym. “ I am not admitted to be so,” blandly
replied the man of chillies, “ though I am often consulted about family
jars.”
I may here observe that this citizen of Cheap, like many of our
merchant princes, occasionally tempers business with badinage. Making
tun of the Funds, by a timely mot he relieves the Reduce!, and, with
innocent levity, attenuates the Consolidated. He recently remarked—
when touching lightly on certain Bank insecurities—that no Stock was
such an unfailing source of interest as a laughing-Stock.
“ You spoke of your client,” said I, pointedly. “ You mean, I sup-
pose, your customer ? ”
The Purveyor, with a forgiving smile, softly corrected me. “ We
have no customers. Tradesmen have, but pickling is a profession.”
The conference ended by my giving instructions for a bottle of cap-
sicums ; which, being nanded to me, I, like a model client, paid my
professional adviser his charges without wincing.
Now, Mr. Punch, I am sanguine enough to anticipate that the
refinement of language adopted in South-East Cheap will be frequently
imitated elsewhere. I rejoice to say that we have very few Fanners
now, though we have many Agriculturists. Cotton-spinners are daily
becoming Millionnaires, and a Milliner is a Marchunde des Modes from
lyburnia to Timbuctoo. Even a Needle-maker—so I am gravely in-
tormed by my maiden sister—is now a manufacturer of Penelope and
Uncotopic crochets. A Dentist of genius cannot draw a tooth without
first extracting a Greek root from his Lexicon.
All this is very nice, but some old-fashioned titles are still retained,
however inapplicable to modern circumstances. A licensed carrier of
flowers and parasols, and watcher of eyes, is frequently called by young
ladies of good education a Lover. A Paymaster-General and a Husband
are universally convertible terms. If we go to Parliament, we shall
find doomed warriors defending a beleaguered Treasury against a
rampant Majority, spoken of with touching tenderness as Ministers by
an admiring little flock.
Here let me pause; but, before concluding, I would improve my
present opportunity, and suggest that henceforth no ornate cmrespond-
ent should seek to beguile a gentle Editor, and deface his Doric columns
by subscribing himself, with wilful inaccuracy,
A Constant Reader.
A WORTHY MEMORIAL.
They who think that a Free Press is an advantage to a nation,
should subscribe to the Memorial of a man who, in his time, fought
many a brave battle for the freedom of the Press. Leigh Hunt was
sent to prison for publishing opinions which Mr. Punch in perfect
safety may now put forth when he pleases ; and the fact that Mr.
Punch can say just what he likes without a fear of Newgate, is owing
in great measure to the battles Leigh Hunt fought. Gratefully and
gracefully remembering this fact, Mr. Punch would say a word for the
Memorial to Leigh Hunt, and they who would be sorry to see
Mr. Punch in Newgate (imagine the world living for a week without
its Punch!), will freely give their guineas to perpetuate the memory of
a writer who worked manfully to gam for England a Free Press.
A Trifle from Brighton.—On the question of Purchase in the
Army there may be doubts ■ but there can be none as to the necessity
of abolishing Purchas in tue Church.
Vol. 55.
6
169
October 24, 1868.
THE MARCH OF SCIENCE.
Artist (as a hint to his Friend). “ Bless me ! Five o’Clock ! I had no Idea it was
so Late. How quickly Time does fly now ! ”
Yankee. “ Which I calc’late it’s all owin’ to the vast Improvements effected
in Clocks by ocf. Great Country.”
DONKEY DINNERS.
Horse dinners were all the go a few months
since, and donkey dinners, doubtless, will ere
long be in fashion, at least if we put faith in the
paragraph that follows :—-
“ Everybody who haa eaten roast donkey has pro-
nounced it excellent. In flavour it is said to resemble
turkey, though the colour is considerably darker. The
animal in question, is a very clean feeder, cheap,
hardy, and subsists easily at little cost, and it seems
within possibility that donkeys may be reared on the
poorest commons, not only as beasts of burden for the
use of the poor, but as a luxurious addition to the
banquets of the rich.”
If I had a donkey that wouldn’t go, d’ye think
I’d waste my whipcord in walloping him ? O
no ! I’d send him to the butcher’s, sure as I’m
a living sinner, and eat him nicely roasted for
my next Sunday dinner. Such may be the reso-
lution of many a London costermonger, after
reading the above; and strict utilitarians will
probably applaud it. As novelty is charming,
we may expect that ass-flesh shortly will be
viewed as quite a luxury: and donkey-eaters
will be giving delightful little dinners, whereat
the menu will begin with delicious ass-tail soup,
aud after a few entrees, such as “ oreilles des
anes farcies aux truffes,” or “ cotelettes de l’ane
jeune a la financiere,” the banquet will conclude
with a juicy haunch of donkey, to which no
haunch of venison will be deemed worthy to
compare. We might suggest, by way of entre-
met, a salad of fresh thistles, of which the
donkey-eaters might appropriately . partake.
After the repast, we may look for a few songs
in the praise of donkey-eating, in the manner of
the following :—
Here’s a health to all fat asses !
Theirs all other meat surpasses—
Let the donkey-steak go round.
He who’d have a novel pleasure,
Let him relish at his leisure
The joys that in ass-meat abound.
Fill a bumper—’tis no thumper—
In Donkey sweetest flesh is found.
A Confiding Public.—The Tavern that Trusts.
THE EUPHONY OE COMMERCE.
Mr. Punch,—Sir,
Calling one day last week on my piclde-merchant, I was
recommended by that Purveyor of sophisticated acids to purchase an
original sauce which had given much satisfaction to his “ client,” Sir
E ~ N . “ Are you a solicitor ? ” I inquired, somewhat startled
by this strange synonym. “ I am not admitted to be so,” blandly
replied the man of chillies, “ though I am often consulted about family
jars.”
I may here observe that this citizen of Cheap, like many of our
merchant princes, occasionally tempers business with badinage. Making
tun of the Funds, by a timely mot he relieves the Reduce!, and, with
innocent levity, attenuates the Consolidated. He recently remarked—
when touching lightly on certain Bank insecurities—that no Stock was
such an unfailing source of interest as a laughing-Stock.
“ You spoke of your client,” said I, pointedly. “ You mean, I sup-
pose, your customer ? ”
The Purveyor, with a forgiving smile, softly corrected me. “ We
have no customers. Tradesmen have, but pickling is a profession.”
The conference ended by my giving instructions for a bottle of cap-
sicums ; which, being nanded to me, I, like a model client, paid my
professional adviser his charges without wincing.
Now, Mr. Punch, I am sanguine enough to anticipate that the
refinement of language adopted in South-East Cheap will be frequently
imitated elsewhere. I rejoice to say that we have very few Fanners
now, though we have many Agriculturists. Cotton-spinners are daily
becoming Millionnaires, and a Milliner is a Marchunde des Modes from
lyburnia to Timbuctoo. Even a Needle-maker—so I am gravely in-
tormed by my maiden sister—is now a manufacturer of Penelope and
Uncotopic crochets. A Dentist of genius cannot draw a tooth without
first extracting a Greek root from his Lexicon.
All this is very nice, but some old-fashioned titles are still retained,
however inapplicable to modern circumstances. A licensed carrier of
flowers and parasols, and watcher of eyes, is frequently called by young
ladies of good education a Lover. A Paymaster-General and a Husband
are universally convertible terms. If we go to Parliament, we shall
find doomed warriors defending a beleaguered Treasury against a
rampant Majority, spoken of with touching tenderness as Ministers by
an admiring little flock.
Here let me pause; but, before concluding, I would improve my
present opportunity, and suggest that henceforth no ornate cmrespond-
ent should seek to beguile a gentle Editor, and deface his Doric columns
by subscribing himself, with wilful inaccuracy,
A Constant Reader.
A WORTHY MEMORIAL.
They who think that a Free Press is an advantage to a nation,
should subscribe to the Memorial of a man who, in his time, fought
many a brave battle for the freedom of the Press. Leigh Hunt was
sent to prison for publishing opinions which Mr. Punch in perfect
safety may now put forth when he pleases ; and the fact that Mr.
Punch can say just what he likes without a fear of Newgate, is owing
in great measure to the battles Leigh Hunt fought. Gratefully and
gracefully remembering this fact, Mr. Punch would say a word for the
Memorial to Leigh Hunt, and they who would be sorry to see
Mr. Punch in Newgate (imagine the world living for a week without
its Punch!), will freely give their guineas to perpetuate the memory of
a writer who worked manfully to gam for England a Free Press.
A Trifle from Brighton.—On the question of Purchase in the
Army there may be doubts ■ but there can be none as to the necessity
of abolishing Purchas in tue Church.
Vol. 55.
6