DOI issue:
January 9, 1869
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16883#0015
January 9, I860.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
MUSIC HATH CHARMS. &c.
“ THE PAEISH WAITS.
“ To the Ladies and Gentlemen residing in,” &e.
“ Ladies and Gentlemen,—With sensible recollection of by-gone pa-
tronage, your Wandering Melodists, the Christmas Waits, beg to offer their
best compliments on the approaching Festival. The Band on this occasion,
as heretofore, has been numerous and select, and trust to merit that liberal
diffusion of your favours, •which has enlivened our homes and cheered our
hearts for a series of years. We hope our sprightly notes of Melody—awaking
swi et Echo on the dull ear of Night—has stole on your- gentle slumbers, and
again lulled you to repose with the soothing candanza of the Lullaby. (Sere ,
follow the names of the Band, ‘ numerous and select,’ four in all, their instru-
ments, and addresses.)
“ Having redeemed our pledge, we shall have the honour of paying our
personal respects in the Holiday week.
“ In respectfully taking our leave, we beg to remind you that as some, who
are pretenders to the Magic Wand of Apollo would attempt to impose on your
liberality, and defraud us of your favours, it may be necessary to say, that we
will produce a Card containing our Names, Instruments, and Addresses as
above; we therefore hope you will not give this Bill, or your Donation, to
any persons unless they produce the Card above named.”
Is not this appeal irresistible ? Could any one —could even the house-
holder who has escaped to “ gentle slumbers ” from gout, indigestion,
neuralgia, or a fractious teething infant at 2 a.m., and been awakened at
2 oO by cornet, harp, &c., playing the “soothing candanza” of the [
Belgravia Waltz, or Kathleen Mavourneen, or other appropriate Christ-
mas melodies, be churl enough to refuse a donation to the “ Wandering
Melodists,” when they paid their “persoual respects in the holiday
week”? You, 0 resident, may have held aloof from plum-pudding,
you may have forfeited all chance of happiness in the new-laid year by
refusing mince-pies ; you may have sung no song, told no ghost-story,
propounded no riddle, pulled no cracker, and-cracked no joke; you
ma v have moped alone with the Quarterly Review on Christmas Eve,
ana dined in a tavern with no company but that of the superfluously
civil waiter on Christmas Day; you may have shunned the mistletoe
bough as you would the Upas-tree, and never wished one of your
kind a merry this, or a happy that; but it is impossible that, if you
j have received and read this persuasive Bill, you can have withheld
your modest Christmas gift from your Christmas Waits. If you have
— mark, something dreadful will happen to you in the course of the j
festive season of 1869. An undesirable relation will drop in upon ;
you just at dinner-time on Christmas Day, or the kitchen chimney will
catch fire and the engines arrive at 6 p.m., or the Norfolk turkey will
go astray to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, or Newark-upon-Trent, or the
dressmaker will be faithless, and fail to send home your wife’s new silk,
or—most signal retribution of all—the “ Wandering Melodists,” the
legitimate wielders of “the magic wand of Apollo,” will not play in
front of your mansion between 12 and 2 a.m., for several successive
nights in the month of December !
■ vs -
HAVE PITY ON THE UNLEARNED.
“ Me. Lowe, perfectly aware of the ox on his tongue, justified his reticence
on the broadest and most elementary grounds.”
Really, newspaper -writers should remember that it is not everybody
who has had the advantage of a classical education, and if they must
deal in allusions w’hich those who have small Latin and less Greek can-
not. be expected to understand, the least they can do is to add a word
of explanation, or a foot-note. Mr. Lowe, with an “ ox on his tongue,”
has proved a hopeless puzzle to numbers of painstaking readers who
conscientiously try to make out the meaning of all they see in print.
His admirers only hope that it is not some dreadful disease with which
the Chancellor of the Exchequer is threatened.
Area of Force v. Force of Area.
The falling off in the security of our streets is ascribed to the great
extension of the area of Police-duty. This is very true, and may be
put in another way. Not only is the Police too small for the area, but
the area is too much for the Police; or to put it dynamically, “ The
action of the force is in an inverse ratio with the area.”
QUITE RIGHT, MY DEARS.
Alice, Constance, Daisy, Evelyn, Georgina, Susette, and a
great many more most charming but slightly illegible correspondents,
are perfectly right in the conjecture which, with that intuition peculiar
to women, they have unanimously formed. Browning’s new poem.
The Ring and the Book, is all about—a Wedding !
In -delicacies oe the Season.—The Burlesques and Pantomimes.
POETRY EOR GREEK PANTOMIME.
Mother England log.
Who dares at Christmas time break Europe’s peace ?
Who dreams of doing so ? What, little Greece ?
You naughty good-for-nothing boy, get out !
Or else you’ll soon have me your house about.
You, that an infant are as yet, and not a man,
You, puny Power, think you can match the Ottoman.
Presume to tread on the Sublime Porte’s corns,
The Crescent hope to make draw in its horns.
The Sultan—the Grand Seignior’s self yon cheek?
There never was such imperence as Greek !
Aiding the insurrectionists in Crete !
What could you do against the Turkish fleet ?
The Mussulmans would in a jiffey whack yon.
For don’t suppose the Muscovites will back yon.
I’ve a good mind to take you up aud smack you.
You gosling, Oh, you silly goosey gander !
Have you one hero now, like Alexander
The Great, Lysander, Conon, Pericles,
Or equal to an Alclbiades ?
Not all of them would make you the Turk’s peer ;
That is, at least, the British Grenadier
Upon his side suppose you had to tackle—
So put your arms away and cease your cackle.
Instead of raising land and naval forces
To work set, and develope your resources.
Discharge your mind of Philhellenic frets,
Tarn it to industry, and pay your debts.
When you’ve grown up, and have got so much bigger
In Europe as to cut a serious figure.
Then there may be some chance for your audacity,
At present you are not of that capacity.
So now desist from your intrigues and robbery,
And let me hear no more of all this bobbery.
BEWARE OE TRAPROIS.
Is there any sufficient reason why sending a money-lender’s circular
to a minor should not be rendered punishable ? And ought that act to
be made less punishable than the offence of sending a threatening
letter to anybody ?
If, however, the paramount importance of Commerce requires that
the liberty of advertising shall be unbounded, might not some protec-
tion against usurers be afforded to infants by a certain relaxation of
the law of libel ? If Trapbois must needs be allowed to advertise
himself without restriction, let it be lawful to advertise Trapbois.
Let parents, preceptors, guardians, clergymen, philanthropists, any-
body and everybody, have a right to post Trapbois all about the
Universities and over camps and garrison towns, or any other places
in which Trapbois is likely to catch youth. “ Beware of Trapbois.”
“ Keep out of Trapbois’s Clutches.” “ Borrow not of Trapbois, the
Usurer.” “Who’s Trapbois? A Bill Discounter—lends money at
sixty per cent.” Such are the sort of legends with which it ought to
be lawful to bill the hoardings, dead walls, and railway-stations, or to
put the unwary and inexperienced on their guard by means of a
watchman with a staff and a lamp displaying a nocturnal illumination.
THE CRIES OF THE SEASON.
A Striking illustration of the late extraordinary mildness of the
season occurred, the other day, on the Basingstoke platform of the
London and South-Western Railway. A boy ran along a train which
stopped there, shouting, “ Any apples, oranges, lemonade, soda-water,
ginger-beer ? ”
If the weather shall have changed, will that boy and other boys,
touting the trains, cry, “ Any taters-all-hot, kidney-puddings, wine,
negus, brandy, rum, gin, whiskey, spirits-and-water, punch ? ” They
may add Bunch's Almanack. But both that and this periodical are to
be cried at all seasons and decried at none.
“ A Bloated Aristocracy and a Bloater Church..”
“John Knox” confides to Mr. Bunch his opinion that “ Like all
people between two stools,” Ritualists must come to the ground.
They are neither Protestant nor Papist, “ neither fish, flesh, nor good
red-herrin’.”
Neither fish nor flesh, perhaps. But Bunch must demur to the rest
of the description. Many Ritualists are “ good,” a few are not only
“ read,” but “ well-read,” and all, without exception, are “ errin’.”
MUSIC HATH CHARMS. &c.
“ THE PAEISH WAITS.
“ To the Ladies and Gentlemen residing in,” &e.
“ Ladies and Gentlemen,—With sensible recollection of by-gone pa-
tronage, your Wandering Melodists, the Christmas Waits, beg to offer their
best compliments on the approaching Festival. The Band on this occasion,
as heretofore, has been numerous and select, and trust to merit that liberal
diffusion of your favours, •which has enlivened our homes and cheered our
hearts for a series of years. We hope our sprightly notes of Melody—awaking
swi et Echo on the dull ear of Night—has stole on your- gentle slumbers, and
again lulled you to repose with the soothing candanza of the Lullaby. (Sere ,
follow the names of the Band, ‘ numerous and select,’ four in all, their instru-
ments, and addresses.)
“ Having redeemed our pledge, we shall have the honour of paying our
personal respects in the Holiday week.
“ In respectfully taking our leave, we beg to remind you that as some, who
are pretenders to the Magic Wand of Apollo would attempt to impose on your
liberality, and defraud us of your favours, it may be necessary to say, that we
will produce a Card containing our Names, Instruments, and Addresses as
above; we therefore hope you will not give this Bill, or your Donation, to
any persons unless they produce the Card above named.”
Is not this appeal irresistible ? Could any one —could even the house-
holder who has escaped to “ gentle slumbers ” from gout, indigestion,
neuralgia, or a fractious teething infant at 2 a.m., and been awakened at
2 oO by cornet, harp, &c., playing the “soothing candanza” of the [
Belgravia Waltz, or Kathleen Mavourneen, or other appropriate Christ-
mas melodies, be churl enough to refuse a donation to the “ Wandering
Melodists,” when they paid their “persoual respects in the holiday
week”? You, 0 resident, may have held aloof from plum-pudding,
you may have forfeited all chance of happiness in the new-laid year by
refusing mince-pies ; you may have sung no song, told no ghost-story,
propounded no riddle, pulled no cracker, and-cracked no joke; you
ma v have moped alone with the Quarterly Review on Christmas Eve,
ana dined in a tavern with no company but that of the superfluously
civil waiter on Christmas Day; you may have shunned the mistletoe
bough as you would the Upas-tree, and never wished one of your
kind a merry this, or a happy that; but it is impossible that, if you
j have received and read this persuasive Bill, you can have withheld
your modest Christmas gift from your Christmas Waits. If you have
— mark, something dreadful will happen to you in the course of the j
festive season of 1869. An undesirable relation will drop in upon ;
you just at dinner-time on Christmas Day, or the kitchen chimney will
catch fire and the engines arrive at 6 p.m., or the Norfolk turkey will
go astray to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, or Newark-upon-Trent, or the
dressmaker will be faithless, and fail to send home your wife’s new silk,
or—most signal retribution of all—the “ Wandering Melodists,” the
legitimate wielders of “the magic wand of Apollo,” will not play in
front of your mansion between 12 and 2 a.m., for several successive
nights in the month of December !
■ vs -
HAVE PITY ON THE UNLEARNED.
“ Me. Lowe, perfectly aware of the ox on his tongue, justified his reticence
on the broadest and most elementary grounds.”
Really, newspaper -writers should remember that it is not everybody
who has had the advantage of a classical education, and if they must
deal in allusions w’hich those who have small Latin and less Greek can-
not. be expected to understand, the least they can do is to add a word
of explanation, or a foot-note. Mr. Lowe, with an “ ox on his tongue,”
has proved a hopeless puzzle to numbers of painstaking readers who
conscientiously try to make out the meaning of all they see in print.
His admirers only hope that it is not some dreadful disease with which
the Chancellor of the Exchequer is threatened.
Area of Force v. Force of Area.
The falling off in the security of our streets is ascribed to the great
extension of the area of Police-duty. This is very true, and may be
put in another way. Not only is the Police too small for the area, but
the area is too much for the Police; or to put it dynamically, “ The
action of the force is in an inverse ratio with the area.”
QUITE RIGHT, MY DEARS.
Alice, Constance, Daisy, Evelyn, Georgina, Susette, and a
great many more most charming but slightly illegible correspondents,
are perfectly right in the conjecture which, with that intuition peculiar
to women, they have unanimously formed. Browning’s new poem.
The Ring and the Book, is all about—a Wedding !
In -delicacies oe the Season.—The Burlesques and Pantomimes.
POETRY EOR GREEK PANTOMIME.
Mother England log.
Who dares at Christmas time break Europe’s peace ?
Who dreams of doing so ? What, little Greece ?
You naughty good-for-nothing boy, get out !
Or else you’ll soon have me your house about.
You, that an infant are as yet, and not a man,
You, puny Power, think you can match the Ottoman.
Presume to tread on the Sublime Porte’s corns,
The Crescent hope to make draw in its horns.
The Sultan—the Grand Seignior’s self yon cheek?
There never was such imperence as Greek !
Aiding the insurrectionists in Crete !
What could you do against the Turkish fleet ?
The Mussulmans would in a jiffey whack yon.
For don’t suppose the Muscovites will back yon.
I’ve a good mind to take you up aud smack you.
You gosling, Oh, you silly goosey gander !
Have you one hero now, like Alexander
The Great, Lysander, Conon, Pericles,
Or equal to an Alclbiades ?
Not all of them would make you the Turk’s peer ;
That is, at least, the British Grenadier
Upon his side suppose you had to tackle—
So put your arms away and cease your cackle.
Instead of raising land and naval forces
To work set, and develope your resources.
Discharge your mind of Philhellenic frets,
Tarn it to industry, and pay your debts.
When you’ve grown up, and have got so much bigger
In Europe as to cut a serious figure.
Then there may be some chance for your audacity,
At present you are not of that capacity.
So now desist from your intrigues and robbery,
And let me hear no more of all this bobbery.
BEWARE OE TRAPROIS.
Is there any sufficient reason why sending a money-lender’s circular
to a minor should not be rendered punishable ? And ought that act to
be made less punishable than the offence of sending a threatening
letter to anybody ?
If, however, the paramount importance of Commerce requires that
the liberty of advertising shall be unbounded, might not some protec-
tion against usurers be afforded to infants by a certain relaxation of
the law of libel ? If Trapbois must needs be allowed to advertise
himself without restriction, let it be lawful to advertise Trapbois.
Let parents, preceptors, guardians, clergymen, philanthropists, any-
body and everybody, have a right to post Trapbois all about the
Universities and over camps and garrison towns, or any other places
in which Trapbois is likely to catch youth. “ Beware of Trapbois.”
“ Keep out of Trapbois’s Clutches.” “ Borrow not of Trapbois, the
Usurer.” “Who’s Trapbois? A Bill Discounter—lends money at
sixty per cent.” Such are the sort of legends with which it ought to
be lawful to bill the hoardings, dead walls, and railway-stations, or to
put the unwary and inexperienced on their guard by means of a
watchman with a staff and a lamp displaying a nocturnal illumination.
THE CRIES OF THE SEASON.
A Striking illustration of the late extraordinary mildness of the
season occurred, the other day, on the Basingstoke platform of the
London and South-Western Railway. A boy ran along a train which
stopped there, shouting, “ Any apples, oranges, lemonade, soda-water,
ginger-beer ? ”
If the weather shall have changed, will that boy and other boys,
touting the trains, cry, “ Any taters-all-hot, kidney-puddings, wine,
negus, brandy, rum, gin, whiskey, spirits-and-water, punch ? ” They
may add Bunch's Almanack. But both that and this periodical are to
be cried at all seasons and decried at none.
“ A Bloated Aristocracy and a Bloater Church..”
“John Knox” confides to Mr. Bunch his opinion that “ Like all
people between two stools,” Ritualists must come to the ground.
They are neither Protestant nor Papist, “ neither fish, flesh, nor good
red-herrin’.”
Neither fish nor flesh, perhaps. But Bunch must demur to the rest
of the description. Many Ritualists are “ good,” a few are not only
“ read,” but “ well-read,” and all, without exception, are “ errin’.”