Punch (55.1868)

268

[December 26, 1868.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

POT AND KETTLE.

Friend. “ Well, Stuffins, what hid you Think of the Cattle Show?”
Mr. Stuffins. “ Pretty fair. But the way they Peed up those poor
Beasts I call a Disgrace to Humanity ! ”

PERILS OE THE PRESS.

A Tale of Araby relates
How once upon a day,

A traveller sat eating dates,

And threw the stones away.

A Genie, and the Genie’s sou,

Unseen were passing by;

Our friend unwittingly threw one
Stone in the latter’s eye.

So, Journalists, unless you mind
How cases you report,

In Equity, yourselves you ’ll find—

In for contempt of court.

If Judges, when they read the news,
On your remarks should light,

They may, by some which they peruse.
Be warped from j udging right.

The Courts of Equity exalt,

Then, British penmen, ye ;

Truly ’tis not the Judges’ fault
If England’s Press is free.

Dark Doings in Westminster.

Dear Wiialley,

Who can doubt the machinations of the Jesuits
in Westminster ?

I say they’ve the “ sacrifice of the mass” there already
—which his name is Mill.

Yours, ever affectionately,

Punch.

Enemies of Mankind.

Some evil-minded persons, with the view of preventing
the establishment of a good understanding between Eng-
land and the United States, have introduced into Congress
a resolution for the recal of Mr. Reverdy Johnson. Let
us hope that they will be defeated in their malevolent
design to make Reverdy reverti.

I


MRS. PUNCH’S LETTERS TO HER DAUGHTER.

My Child,

At this time of the year, when fond parents are preparing
holiday amusements for the Children of the Period, it behoves a
British matron and patriotic mother like myself to say something
about both.

Are there indeed any children of the period ?

Fashionable young ladies and young gentlemen there are of all ages,
from four years upward ; but the Children—where are the children
gone to ? I see very few in the West End streets decked so gaily for
Christmas ; I see very few among the Christmas Trees at Covent
Garden Market; I see very few in the places of amusement especially
opened for the young ; plenty of richly-dressed, supercilious little men
and women; but are these children ?

Picture to yourself the holiday life of a little lady of six or seven
years. She is supplied with an expensive toilette, consisting of
morning-dress, afternoon-dress, ball-dress, fans, flowers, and feathers;
she issues and accepts invitations for evening parties ; she drinks tea,
eats ices, dances, coquettes and sups in hot rooms hours after all little
people should be in bed; she goes to theatres, concerts, and private
theatricals; she is taught to discriminate between those who are of
“her set,” and those who are not. She looks down with contempt
upon child’s play and childish children, and grows up the veriest little
snob in the world.

Where will all this end ? Shall we soon have children going into
Committee on the rights of minors, children sending up petitions for
Nursery Reform, children’s newspapers, children’s dubs, &c. ?

And where will the extravagance end which is being imitated by all
ranks!

A lady lately writing in a popular monthly magazine, made the
somewhat inconsiderate statement that no gentleman could dress upon
I a sum under £100 a year. How much would she allow for the dress
j of a young lady aged six years ? How much for the dress of the said
young lady’s dolls ?

Really, these calculations are enough to afflict any married man of
moderate means with all sorts of terrifying visions, and to make him
wonder where these costly vanities ot' the drawing-room, the school-
room, and the nursery will end. If the Children of the Period cause
him to tear his hair at the influx of Christmas bills now, what will he
do when they have grown up into young ladies and gentlemen i
I must confess to you, my dear daughter, a nervous dread of the
Children of the Period. Supposing that Mr. Punch and I were to deck
a Christmas-tree for them, would they enjoy it, would they care for our
sixpenny toys, would they play Blind-Man’s Buff, and be content to go
home at eight o’clock, after partaking of your mother’s home-made
cakes and goodies ? I fear not. I fear they would criticise us, and
think us shabby, and declare they would never enter such a dull house
again. . . .

" But how to pass the Christmas-tide without children ? That is quite
impossible to children-loving old souls like your papa or myself, so let
us gather the dear little people about us, the rich as well as the poor,
make merry with them, after our own way. I cannot but believe that
this fashion of young ladies “coming out” at the early age ot live
years, will soon be put down, with other monstrosities, such as children’s
“ Revivals,” and that the toilettes, recreations, and sociabilities of
the nursery, will soon cease to parody those of the drawing-room. I
once heard two little French children talking to each other at a juvenile
party, and this is was what they said, “Do you know those little girls
yonder ? ” asked one. “ Oh, no ! ” answered the other, with a shrug
of the shoulders, “ {Its ne sont pas de noire monde)—they are not of
our set! ” . .

Do we want this sort of worldly wisdom in our children; Do we
want them to be little satirists and little snobs ? I say, no ! and that is
why I want to see the children’s Christmas kept in a simple fashion.
Bless them all. Your affectionate Mother,

Mrs. Punch.

The Junior Athen.eum.—Mr. Dilke, M.P. for Chelsea.