Punch: Punch (57.1869)

230

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [December 11, 1869.

PUTTING US IN OUR PLACE.

ear Mr. Punch,—You who
mingle freely (I don't mean
mix grog) with the Aristo-
cracy, of which you are the
delight and joy, of course
know who my Lord San-
don is. But some persons
may not know that his
admired young lordship is
the elder son of the Earl
of Harrowbt, and is MP.
for Liverpool. In the
gymnasium there, he ad-
dressed to the Dickey
Sams, the other night, a
speech of merit, whence
the Liverpool Daily Post
calls the following flow-
eret :—

" And not only the men in
the higher walks of life, hut
the men who write the articles
in our papers * * * know
what the sweat of the brain
is."

O my dear Sir, you can-
not think how truly grate-
ful and happy I felt at
reading these noble words ! I felt so thankful to young Lord Sandon
for telling me so graciously that I am one of the men in the lower
walks of life, and yet am not to be despised altogether. After inditing,
at my favourite tavern, some articles for your paper (articles which you
are pleased to say are pregnant with wit, genius, and information, and
might even afford hints to gigantic intellect, like that of men in the
higher walks of life), I went in a penny omnibus to my humble lodging,
eager to show the words to my wife. She was a little tired (I will not
say cross), for she was cleaning the doorstep after a hard day's wash.
Pushing aside the damp clothes that were hanging across the room, I
led her to the three-legged stool, and read my Lord Sandon's lan-
guage. Tears of pleasure, which she wiped with her check apron,
came to her eyes, and she sent our little boy to the public-house for an
extra pint of beer, in which, over our cheese and onions, we earnestly,
but respectfully, drank to the health of the Noble Lord, who, while
pointing out our station, has acknowledged our merit.

Yours devotedly,
3, Bunkey's Cottages, Snook Street, Hoxton. A Journalist.

BE NOT TOO BOLD.

" Cockneys " have revenged that slightly monotonous epigram by
remarking that the Scotch, much as they admire their own language,
prefer English for the highest purposes. This rejoinder is to be done
away. We read in the London Scotsman (a pleasant paper, however)
that the Bible is to be turned into Scottish. A specimen of the New
Version is given, and from it we make a quotation which we have
selected because it does not contain aught that may not be reverently
referred to here. Everybody knows the Anglican version of the 23rd
of King David's Psalms. In Scotch it is to run thus:—" Providence

" 2. Louts me till lie amang green howes, and airts me atowre by the lown
wattirs.

" 3. "Waukens my wa'gaen saul; and weises me roun', intil right roddins.

" 4. Na! tho' I gang thro' the deid-mirk dail, e'en thar sal I dreid nae
skaithing; for Yersel' are nar-by me; Yer stok an' yer stay haud me ay
cheerie.

5. My buird Ye hae hansell'd in face o' my faes; Ye hae drookit my heid
wi' oyle; my bicker is fu' an' skailin'."

We submit this curiosity, without farther comment. It is due to
the London Scotsman to say that it does not approve the proceeding,
except as a literary effort, and says that it is not the Scotch of Burns.
That fact may be held fatal to the New Version.

The Price of Persecution.

The Athenceum says :—" It appears to have cost the Government of
Mary £1 5s. 2d. to burn the two martyrs" Latimer and Ridley.
How cheap ! And now the poor High Church and Low Church par-
sons can't get one of the Broad Church burnt for love or money, and
not only are they unable to send him to the stake, but must go to the
expense of above a thousand pounds if they only endeavour, when they
generally fail, to bring him to book.

A NATIVE MONARCH AND A PRETENDER.

" The Paris papers say that since the price of oysters has become fabulous,
a new shell-fish has been produced at the Halle, which has attained great
popularity, and not only answers the same purpose as the oyster, but is in
some respects an improvement on the ruinous mollusc. The new shell-fish is
the Palourde. It is a bivalve smaller than the oyster, and of a more elliptical
form; it is sold at sixty centimes the litre, being thus within the reach of
modest purses."—Pall Ma 11 Gazette, Nov. 30.

Base bivalve and bumptious! Molluscous pretender!

That darest thyself in the market to tender,

And thy flat flabby corpse and elliptical shell,

Ignobly, at sixpence the dozen to sell!

Thou set thyself up as a rival to me.

The monarch of Molluscs, the Native, per se!

Nay, dare e'en in Prance to the throne to pretend,

Of my cousins of Cancale, Dieppe, or Ostend!

At least they are Lords of the Ostrean line,

Though of lineage and flavour inferior to mine,

Who, since Caesar's galley first touched British sand,

Have ruled Molluscs at sea as Rome ruled men on land!

I, of Ostrea edules owned Paramount Lord,

At Lucullian feast and Apician board,

When of food, as of law, Rome prescribed the world's code,

And the savage of Britain ran wild in his woad !

Since o'er Molluscs I reigned from my Rutupine bay,

And the Oysters of Baise acknowledged my sway,

Till now, when more honoured than ever before,

I in Billingsgate rule, at six shillings the score !

And this is the moment thou hope'st to strike in,

Presumptuous Palourde ! and, amid my French kin,

The place, pride and price of an Oyster to win !

" Blind ambitions," sang Horace, " and blind hopes of men !"

And they, doubtless, of beings were blindest just then:

Bat the strings of his lyre had a Horace now strung,

" Blind ambitions of molluscs ! " methinks he had sung.

Eor thy blow, vile Palourde, though 'tis struck over sea,

At our vassals of Paris, is aimed against me.

Let thy place once be won in the land of the Gaul,

'Gainst our petits cousins of Dieppe and Cancale,

And soon, with thy Paris credentials display'd,

Oar Billingsgate realm we shall see thee invade;

There, with cockles and clams in rebellion uprear'd,

To assail native empire, and laugh at our beard!

Be calm, idle flatter, that thrills through my shell,

And let Reason through Whitstable sound her " All's well."

Talk now of dethronement, and rivalry fear!

To those who adore thee, wheu wast thou so dear?

They who, dress'd or au naturel, ne'er pass'd thee by,

In sauce, or in scallop, stew, gratin, or fry,

Eeel their loyalty rise, their devotion increase,

Now its utt'rances stand them in threepence a-piece.

Now that we, who a morsel for kings ever were,

Are forbid to all mouths, save the millionnaire's,—

Now we still go up, up, with no tendency down,

Till, in time, every Native may rise to a crown ;

Then where '11 this Palourde be, his head if he run

'Gainst the Natives of Britain, a king every one ?

TRA LARA LA !

The admirers of a Noble Poet, whose memory has been absurdly
calumniated, will be interested by the following paragraph, culled from
a contemporary :—

" Singular Law Suit.—The Marquis de Narbonne Lara having dis-
puted the right of Count Axmary de Narbonne Lara to belong to the family,
a trial has just taken place on the subject before the Civil Tribunal. The deci-
sion of the Court was wholly in favour of the Count, and the Marquis has been
condemned to pay the costs."

It is more intelligible that a Lara should object to acknowledge
somebody for a kinsman, than that any one should claim kindred with
the Lara family. Who are they ? There is Conrad the Corsair; there
is the Giaour ; there is Manfred; all of the same stock : to whom may
be added Cain, if not Bon Juan. A precious queer lot, as the unedu-
cated classes say, for any respectable gentleman to wish for the repute
of being related to.

an american notion.

Should " Bogie " Railway Carriages come intouse, the line on which
they may be expected first to appear will be the E(e)rie Railroad.