Punch (57.1869)

August 21, 1869.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 73

MORE HAPPY THOUGHTS.

stranger) has gone.
Rawlinson Savs,
"If I like to stop
here, and use Wil-
lis's bed, I can. " I
■will. Rawlinson
■wants to know what
I'm going to do
this evening ?

Happy Thought.
Don't know—dine
■with him,if he likes.

"He won't do
that," he says, "but
will meet me any-
where afterwards."
Go to Club. Ask
for letters : two :
one from my wife.
Keep thatuntil I've

Ludgate, the emi-
nent publishers,
stamped on theseal.

Popgood and Groolly have jumped at Typical Developments ; at
least, in answer to a letter of mine, with an introduction from Boodels'
second cousin, "they will be glad if I will favour them with an early
call." An early call, say six in the morning. Popgood and Groolly

Happy Thought.—Might stop somewhere, and ask them to sew on a
button.

Where ? Pastrycook's. Shall I ? I look into the window at a
Look in at Willis's, jelly, and think how I shall manage it. I, as it were, rehearse the
Grainger (the j scene in my mind. Suppose I enter. Suppose I say to girl at counter,
I '11 take an ice: strawberry, if you please ; and, oh by the way, (as if
I hadn't come in for this at all) have you got such a thing as a button
about you which you could kindly sew on for me ? Think I'd better
not. It might look odd. Or go into a haberdasher's. Buy gloves :
only I don't want gloves, and that '11 be four and sixpence for having a
button sewn on.

I feel the collar is wriggling up, and has got over my waistcoat. I seem
to be wrong all over. There's a sort of sympathy in my clothes. On
looking down (I'd not noticed it before) I see that one trouser leg is
shorter than the other. I mentioned this about the last pair to my
tailor. I particularly told him not to make one leg longer than the
other. It's his great fault. After three days' wear one leg always
becomes shorter than the other.

Happy Thought.—Can rectify it by standing before a shop window,
pretending to look in, unbutton my waistcoat, and adjust braces.
_ Much the same difficulty about braces as about my stirrups always in
riding.

Somebody seizes my arm suddenly, and turns me round. I face
Boodels, an elderly gentleman and two ladies, very fashionably dressed,
to whom, he says, he wants to introduce me.
opened this enve- j Horridly annoying, my shirt-collar is up round my neck, my waist-
lope with the names | coat is open, and in twisting me round (so thoughtless of Boodels!)
of Messrs. Pop- the lower part of the brace has broken. Awkward. I can't explain
good and Groolly | that it's only my braces, because that would sound as if it wasn't.

Boodels says they've been longing for an introduction. Well, now
they've got it. The elderly gentleman (1 don't catch any of their
names) shakes hands with me, (I have to disengage my hand for him),
and says with a smile, " I have heard a great deal of you, Sir. I am
told you are a very witty person."
• Happy Thought.—To say, " Oh, no, not at all."
What a stupid remark for him to make. I couldn't answer, " Yes,

in bed. Popgood in one room, Groolly m another, myself m a room ; Sir, I am very witty." A gloom falls over the party after this, and we
between the two, reading aloud Vol. I. of Typical Developments. 1 say waik silently down Piccadilly. I can't help thinking how disappointed
this to a friend in the Club, as I must talk to some one on the subject, ; they must be in me as a very witty person. Then Boodels shouldn't
being in high spirits. _ . have led them to expect it. I '11 have a row with him afterwards

Must look over the MS. and see it's all in order to-night. Better
read some of it out loud to myself, for practice, or try passages on

When I turn to speak to the young lady (rather handsome and tall)
my collar turns too, and seems to come up very much on one side. I

Hawlinson when he comes in in the evening. j should like to be brilliant now. The result is that I ask her (round my

Happy Thought —Li I asked Rawlinson to dine with me, he couldn't
very well help listening to it afterwards.

Open Friddy's letter. She says " Baby's got another rash; her
Mamma advises change of air—sea-side. How long am I going to be

collar, which I pull down to enable me to speak comfortably) if she is
making any stay in town ? which, on the whole, is not particularly
brilliant.

She replies, " No," and leaves the rest to me.

away ? Why don't I write ? She is not very well. Now I am in town ! The Elderly Gentleman (her papa, I fancy) on the other side repeats
I must call on Uncle and Aunt Benson, who have complained to " We've heard of you "—this with almost a chuckle of triumph, as if
my mother of my neglecting them. My mother (the letter goes on ; he'd caught me at last. " We've heard of you as a very witty person."
to say) was down here the other day, and cried about it a good deal. ! I return "Indeed," and we proceed in silence up to Apsley House.
Her Mamma (my wife's, my mother-in-law, Mrs. Symperson) sends ! They 're silent, not liking (as Boodels tells me afterwards) to speak,
her love, and will I call and pay Fribsbx's bill for her, to save her i for fear I should satirically laugh at them, and also to hear some witty
coming up to town. Fribsby, the jeweller, in Bond Street." remarks from me.

Write by return; dash the letter off to show how busy I am :— Happy Thought (by Park Gate.)—Very sorry, must leave; got to go in

Dear Friddy,-Fu11 of business just now. Popgood and the 0pp0slte direction-
Groolly, the great publishers, are going to buy Typical Developments.
I'm going to see them to-morrow. Love to everyone. Poor Baby!
Will see about Uncle. Your affectionate Husband, in haste.

P.S. Going to have my portrait done by Dilbury, A.R.A.

Letter sent. Send to Messrs. Popgood and Groolly to say I'm
coming to-morrow ? or shall I take them by surprise ?

After some consideration I think I'd better take them by surprise.
Having nothing to do this afternoon—(I feel as if I had dismissed
everything from my mind by having sent that letter to my wife, saying,
" how full of business I am just now.") I will stroll towards Belgravia
and call on Uncle and Aunt Benson.

Happy Thought—Take Rotten Row and the drive on my way.

After the Popgood-and-Groolly letter I feel that I have, as it were, a
place in the world. My mother and Uncle and Aunt Benson have always
wanted me to take up a profession; especially since my marriage.
Priddy agrees with them. Well, here is a profession. Literature. Com-
mence with Typ. Level., Vol. i. Say that runs to fifteen editions; say
it 's a thousand pounds for each edition, and a thousand for each volume;
there will be at least fifty volumes, that's fifty thousand; then fifteen
times fifty is seven hundred and fifty, that is, seven hundred and fifty
thousand pounds. Say it takes me ten years to complete the work,
then that's seventy-five thousand pounds a year. I stop to make this
calculation in my pocket-book. A sneeze suddenly takes me : I haven't
got a cold at all, but it shakes me violently, and I feel that a button
has gone somewhere. The back button to my collar, I think: as I
fancy I feel it wriggling up. I really thought when one was married
all these things would have been kept in proper order.

PINE LANGUAGE FOR FINE LADIES.

Strange as are the fashionable costumes now in vogue, the words
used to describe them are to our mind stranger still. For instance,
look at this :—

" The basque is edged round the bottom with a small fluting. The tight
sleeves are trimmed at the wrists with a bouillon with two headings."

As there is a musical resemblance in the words, it is possible that
"fluting" may mean the same as "piping," a term which we distinctly
remember to have seen in some old fiddle-faddle fashion book. But
how can sleeves be " trimmed with a bouillon," unless, indeed, some
French soup happens to be spilled on them ? " A broth of a boy " is
a foolishly incomprehensible expression, and perhaps a girl who
chooses to wear bouillon on her sleeve may, with almost equal
foolishness, be said to have a soup-con of being a fine lady.

Will it Ever be Otherwise ?

There is so much adulteration in what we eat and drink that most
articles of consumption have to be taken upon trust, and treated as
Articles of Faith.

To a Benighted Correspondent.—"Mary Emily" (photograph
and specimen of hair inclosed) is wrong in her supposition that a Knight
Bachelor is necessarily an unmarried man.

Vol. 57.

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