Punch: Punch (57.1869)

November 6, 1869.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

183

MORE HAPPY THOUGHTS.

When I go in, Milburd's guests are waiting for their host. Cazell
is there, and three other men in evening dress. Cazell knows one of
them, but doesn't introduce me to him. We evidently, more or less,
consider one another as intruders.

Happy Thought.—To say it's been a nice day.

Some one (elderly gentleman with yellow grey whiskers) says he
doesn't think so, "but perhaps," he adds, sarcastically, "you like
rain." Forgot it had been raining. Should like (only he's my senior)
to inform him that my observation was only thrown out to give the
conversation a start. Pause. Cazell who might talk to two of us,
doesn't. The third is a gentleman with tight waist, long legs, and a glass
in his eye. He manages to pass the time, apparently, by stretching out
his legs as far as he can away from him, smoothing them down with
both hands, and regarding them critically through his eye-glass. We
are all drawn towards him. His smoothing his legs has evidently a
mesmeric effect upon us, and we all, at least so it seems to me, begin to
take a silent but intense interest in his legs. If we were left there two
hours, he would probably become mesmerically mechanical in his move-
ment, and we should all be fixed staring at him in our chairs. {Note,
Not to forget Mesmerism, under M, in Typ. Bevel., vol. vi.) Another
old gentleman is shown in by the waiter. He is portly, and enters
genially, with his hand out ready to grasp Milbukd's. I can't help
pitying him when he doesn't see Milburd.

Happy Thought.—Respect age—rise. Old fashion and good.

The old gentleman seizes me by the hand. So glad to see me again.
" Capital," he says, " not met for an age." I answer that I am delighted
to meet him. Wonder to myself where I've seen him before : puzzle,
give it up.

"Well," he says, "all well at home?" I answer, "Only pretty
well." He is sorry to hear it.

Happy Thought.—To ask him if he's all well at home.

" Yes," he says he is, " though Milly isn't," he adds, " quite so well
as she might be." 1 reply, "Indeed," thoughtfully, for as I don't
know how well Milly might be if she tried, nor who Milly is, I fancy
that there must be a mistake. Still if I ought to know him, to tell him
that I haven't an idea who he is, would be rude—specially from a young
man to his senior. Man with eye-glass, in meantime, has lowered him-
self in easy chair and is stretching out, complacently, farther than ever.
{Note. Silent Gymnastics.) He is still criticising his legs favourably, and
varying his movements by pulling up his wristbands, which are very
wide, long, and come up to his knuckles.

Old gentleman suddenly puts his hand in his pocket and says to me,
" Oh, that reminds me, you didn't hear from Martin, did you ? " A
dilemma for me. Of course I don't know his Martin. Shall I say,
simply to make a conversation, " Yes or No ?"

Happy Thought.—$&y the truth. " No."

" Ha!" he exclaims, " Then I must settle with you. How much
am I in your debt ?" This is awkward. It's difficult at this moment
to tell him that 1 never saw him before in all my life, but I am certain
of it. If I had any doubt of it, his recollecting a debt to me would put
it beyond question, as 1 shouldn't have lent him anything.

" Well ? " he asks, pausing with his purse in his hand.

Happy Thought.—Tell the truth again.

I commence, " The fact is-"

Milburd enters. He oughtn't to leave his guests. " Ha! Com-
modore !" he says to the old gentleman, " I'm glad to see you 're
acquainted."

1 explain at once that we 're not; and he, putting on his spectacles,
for the first time, (without which the aged mariner is it appears as blind
as a bat) discovers that he has taken me for Milburd.

Happy Thought.—Aged mariner. Wish I could recollect a quotation.
Ought to have something about an albatross at my fingers' ends.

After this, Introductions : myself to Commodore Brumsby, Chilvern
to me, we are to be travelling companions, Milburd says; whereupon
Chilvern and myself both smile vaguely at each other, as if such a
notion was too preposterous or absurd. After all, if smiling means
nothing (when done in this way), it's better than frowning. [N.B.
Make a note in pocket-book to effect that under A might come im-
portant article on Amenities.] After this, myself to Captain Dyng-
well, who has risen, and on being introduced screws up his glass into
one eye, his forehead down on to his glass, and his mouth up on one
side, as if undecided whether to scowl, or receive me pleasantly.
He murmurs something to himself (Cor me to take up if I like) about
something's being " doocid funny," and tries to pull himself out
of his coat by tugging at his wristbands. Standing on the rug
and stretching the right hand out with a jerk, he catches the elderly
gentleman with sandy grey whiskers just behind the ear. Milburd,
with admirable presence of mind, introduces them at once.

" Sir Peter Groganal, Captain Dyngwell." They bow politely,
and the Captain is understood to apologise, but as he is struck by
something's being " doocid funny," the conversation with him, beyond
this point, doesn't progress. It appears, subsequently, that the circum-

stance of Commodore Brumsby's having mistaken me for Milburd,
had struck the Captain as " doocid funny;" in fact, so utterly and
out of all comparison droll has this appeared to the light hearted soldier,
that he is perpetually recurring to the circumstance throughout the
evening.

• "Sir Peter Groganal," whispers Milburd to me, "is a great
chemist: you '11 like him : you must draw him out." I say " I will,"'
but I don't quite see my way to drawing out a great chemist.

Happy Thought.—Manuals for the Dressing-table. Drawin?-out Ques-
tions for various professors. A. How to draw out an Artist, &c, say,
generally, " Are you hard at work now ? " (then he '11 tell you, how hard;
what at"; why : what next; what he thinks of other Artists; what
other artists think of him, &c, &c.; of ancient art; of old masters, &c.)
B. How to draw out a Bishop. "Your Lordship must be very much
overworked ? " No ? " Well, it's not large pay ? " This raises inte-
resting subjects, "Bishops' Income, Church Property, Establishment,
Simony, Lay-impropriation," &c. C. Chemist. How to draw out
Chemist ? Question. " Now should you say,"—put this as if you wouldn't
or he won't be interested; great secret this, interest your man, "Should
you say that Carbolic acid gas acting on the," &c, &c. Of course, it is
necessary in scientific questions, in order to obtain information, to
master up to a certain point the rudiments. Thus you must be sure of
its being "Carbolic" not "Carbonic;" acid gas, not "acid in gas ;"
also, as to whether it " does act on the," &c, &c.—Whatever it may
be, just to start it, because there'd be an end to all conversation if A
or B or C replied, " No, Sir, such a case couldn't possibly happen;
a child wouldn't ask so foolish a question as yours." Only, of course, if
he did say this he'd be a bear, and people would get tired of asking
him out. I am so convinced of the utility of this Manual that before
I go to bed to-night I make notes for its commencement. I'm afraid
I'm getting too many irons in my literary fire.

Milburd really has mixed us well. There's a military man Captain
Dyngwell, there's Chilvern an architect, then Commodore Brumsby,
R.N., a greaUtraveller, Sir Peter Groganal, a tremendous chemist,
Milburd for funniments seasoned by the courtesies of a host, and
myself, as representative, to a certain extent, of Literature.

Happy Thought.—To ask Milburd in a whisper, as we go in to
dinner, " What is a Commodore ?" Milburd returns, also in a
whisper, " Don't know."

We all sit down: Captain Dyngwell, stretching out both his
wristbands over the table as if he was imparting a fashionable
sort of blessing to the knives, forks, glasses and napkins. Will I

face Milburd ? With pleasure if he wishes it; but won't-? " No,

No," says Commodore Brumsby, " Young 'uns do the work."^ Sir
Peter says, gravely, " Yes, Sir, you can experimentalise." We are
arranged. Milburd at the head: myself, his vis-a-vis: on my right
the Commodore, on my left the Chemist. Captain and Chilvern vis-a-
vis one another, and there we are. Excellent number, eight. Cazell
is on Milburd's right, and there's an empty place for a man who
ought to have been there but isn't. None of us care one dump
whether he comes or not. No one knows him: he's a barrister, " very
rising man," says Milburd, whereat one or two of us observe, " In-
deed ? is he ? " and go on with our soup.

Superhuman Industry.

There is or was a very remarkable man living in the West of
England, perhaps the most indefatigable student the world has ever
heard of, judging by Archdeacon Freeman's account of him. In a
speech at Exeter, in which he expressed his strong dislike to news-
papers and magazines, the Archdeacon (who is said to be one of Dr,
Temple's opponents in the Chapter) stated that he once gave a work
of Jeremy Taylor's to a man who " read it for three years night and
day, and never stopped! "

Denomination by Analogy.

Objection has been made, by certain sympathisers with the sect or
parsons named Ritualists, to that word as applied to distinguish that
sect. It is possible to conceive one which would be more distinctively
definite. This sect appears to be no other than that originally founded
by Dr. Pusey. There is a very decided method in their doctrines and
practices. Instead, therefore, of Ritualists, suppose we call parsons,
and persons, of this denomination, Puseyan Methodists ?

a nut for mrs. norton.

The name of Edmund Curll is not forgotten :
So neither will be thine, John Camden Hotten.

questions for the civil service examination.

Give the Latin equivalent for " A Music-Hail audience."
I Answer (by Punch's crib) " Colluvies gentium." A. mob of gents.