Punch (55.1868)

280

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[January 2, 1869.

A NEW DODGE.

MY VISION OP THE YEAR.

ir attention lias been called
to a new dodge for Adver-
tising, employed this Christ-
mas. It may be called the
Double Dodge, and is now
used for advertising a
Theatre and a Snopkeeper.

The Ballet Costumes for
Drury Lane Pantomime
were exhibited at Stagg
and Mantle’s. Stagg
and Mantle, you see,
made them. A notice of
this interesting Exhibition
appeared in the “ Publicity
Columns ” of various news-
papers. Mightn’t Mr.
Webster or Mr. Buck-
stone take a hint from
this ? Or, rather, might not
the tailors, snoemakers,
hatters, supplying these
gentlemen, avail them-
selves of the novel idea ?
Bor instance, we might see announced in the leading journals :—

The Hat worn at night by Mr. Benjamin Webster on leaving the
Theatre, after playing in Monte Cristo, is on view daily from 10 till 5
(where it has to be taken to be brushed) at Messrs. So-and-So, the
Eminent Hatters.

The Coat designed by Mr. Shipp for Mr. J. B. Buckstone, and
worn by him nightly after performing, amidst rapturous applause in the
Hero of Romance, is on view daily at Messrs. Snipp & Co’s. Emporium,
Middle Window.

Mr. Sefton Parry’s Old Shoes, worn by him every night as
Manager of the Globe Theatre, are on view at Mr. Sole’s, daily from
11 till 4. N.B.—A man in attendance to explain them.

In the case of the Actresses, the Exhibition might be carried to
almost any extent.

AIDS TO REPLETION.

A little paragraph, not headed “ Advertisement,” is wont to appear
annually at this time in the Morning Post. It informs the sumptuous
classes that:—

“ The little silver saucepans for wanning brandy for mince-pies, plum-
pudding, &c., so successfully introduced by Mr. Hyphen, the Silversmith, of
New Blank Street, are again in great demand, and suggest themselves not only
as most useful, but also appropriate gifts for the approaching festive season.
They are made in three sizes, at 30s., 35s., and 40s.: with silver lamp and
stand, 40s. extra. Forwarded carriage free, on receipt of a post-office order.”

I saw where a-dying the Old Year was lying,

And the weight at his heart mocked the green at his door:

He heard pauper-voices, for bread hoarsely crying,

He heard soldiers’ tramp, and low thunders of war :

There were no friends to cheer him, and small comfort near him.
And his life’s lamp burnt low, and his breath laboured sore.

Yet, unloved as he ended, his deathbed was tended—

A cloaked shadow sat in the sick nurse’s room,

Nor speaking nor sighing, like the dead by the dying,

That mute, muffled shade seemed to deepen the gloom
Did it bring mirth or mourning, come for sorrow or scorning ?—
Was’t veiled spirit of light, or cowled angel of gloom ?

As midnight was nearing, the presence uprearing
To its height, lowly bent by the dying one’s bed.

And a hand from the folds of its mantle appearing—

Who could say if to bless or to ban was outspread ?

Did the shudder that crept through the Year ere he slept,

Speak of horror or hope, from that hand o’er his head ?

Even thus the last stroke of December outspoke,

And I knew with the sound the Old Year was no more,

And I saw where from darkness the Young Year awoke,

And heard its clear pipe and light step at the door ;

And the great shadow gathered the folds of its cloak.

And stood by the bed, muffled, mute, as before.

Then I knew ’twas the shade of the Future, arrayed
By the Dead Year with new might to bless or to ban ;

But the darkness upon the cowled features that played,

Still baffled the effort their promise to scan.

And I waited the Young Year’s encounter to see
With that awful presence past reading of man.

With his childish laugh ringing like silver bells swinging,

Came the Year to his heritage frolic and free,

Nor shrank as its broad shadow over him flinging
That dark presence fronted the child in his glee:

No fear froze the joy of the jubilant boy
As he faced the cowled features, and climbed the veiled knee.

Then I knew that, though dim, not unlovely to him
Was the face of that presence, nor threatening its eye.

And that under that veil was no aspect more grim

For the Year I saw born than the Year I saw die. . . .

And I woke as from clouds rose the sun’s crimson rim,

And the fair bght of morning enkindled the sky !

CHARITY AND COVERT SHOOTING.

These elegant Christmas conveniences must be highly recommended
by the Faculty. Medical men are interested in the diffusion of facilities
for saturating plum-pudding and mince-pie with brandy. The more of
mince-pie and plum-pudding there is brandied, the more there is eaten;
for the good of physic. The little silver saucepans for warming brandy
make work for the little brass and mahogany machines for grinding
pills, and the little_ glass graduated vessels for measuring out draughts.
Perhaps this consideration may lessen the envy with which many per-
sons regard the opulent, who are enabled to afford silver saucepans,
with silver lamp and stand, by the fortunate circumstance of having
entered the world with spoons of the same metal in their mouths.

A PRIZE FOR THE POLICE.

Has any reward been conferred on the brave policeman who, with
the assistance only of a passer-by, took those three old offenders,
Summers, Bennett, and Smith, into custody, receiving in the attempt
“ most serious injuries ” from the ruffian Summers ? What exploit
can be deemed more gallant than one such as this ? The apprehension
of a desperate British savage, at the risk of life, and the cost of wounds
and bruises, is surely no less honourable a feat than that of doing
equivalent service on an alien enemy. Let it have the same credit,
outwardly and visibly symbolised. An illustration of national advance-
ment in intelligence and morality would be exhibited in the spectacle
of a police-constable on his beat displaying the reward of valour on his
breast decorated with the Victoria Cross.

Where you would Expect it.—Yuleby, going into his Chemist’s,
looked down and read on the door-mat—“ Salve; ” a word which,
in that place, seemed to him singularly appropriate.

Is it the gamekeeper, or the butler, or the toad-eater, we wonder,
who, when the Duke of Pheasanton has had a big battue, is so foolish
as to advertise the details in the newspapers F

Advertise F Well, yes ; such paragraphs must surely be inserted as
advertisements. Unless they were paid highly for, assuredly no editor
would spare for them a corner of his valuable space. Can it in the
least degree ever interest the public to learn that Lord Blazeaway
and half-a-dozen noble swells have butchered in cold blood a pyramid
of pheasants and a hecatomb of hares F True sportsmen shrink with
horror from such wholesale acts of game slaughter, and no one but a
j toady or a snob could find delight in hearing of them. “ What great
men do, the less will prattle of: ” and snobs and toadies love to read
about a lord, be it but a tame description of his slaughter of tame
pheasants.

We could suggest a way, however, by which the list of birds and
animals that have been bagged in a battue might be rendered less repul-
sive and more pleasant to the public. Snobs and toadies surely will
not sneer at the suggestion, for it was the Prince of Wales who first
gave us the hint. Just before he went away for a Copenhagen Christ-
mas and a month’s cruise in a Nile boat, the Prince bagged a lot of
game upon his Sandringham estate, and sent it to the sick folk in the
Charing Cross Hospital. Now, we recommend all noble swells who
like to see their battues recorded in the newspapers, to take a leaf in
future from the Prince of Wales’s game-book. The account of the
big bag the Earl of Breechloader has made would not merely be
pardonable, but indeed be really praiseworthy, if a postscript were ap-
pended stating that nine-tenths of the game that had been butchered
had been forwarded to hospitals, one-tenth having been reserved for
the friends and poor relations and larder of the EarL Being exceed-
ingly nutritious and most easily digestible, game is of great value for
the diet of sick people: and battues would, well-nigh cease to be dis-
gusting in our eyes if their produce were thus put to a charitable use.