Punch (59.1870)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[August 20, 1870

FOUR-WHEELER versus HANSOM.

Gentleman. " Now, then, Ckawlee, I didn't Hail you! I Hailed the Hansom. So take that 'Fever-Box' of yours
out of the "Way !"

Four-Wheeler. "Fever-Box, indeed ! Ah ! that's just your Mistake! 1 takes the Patients to the 'Orspital when
the Disease is only just Beginning, and there ain't yet no Infection. He takes 'em out for a Hairing just when they
begins to get Conwalesges-t."

MRS. EAMSBOTHAM.

Mas. Ramsbotham has taken a cottage in the country. She can't
go abroad this year on account of the war. She writes to a friend quite
a poetical description of her rural retreat. She says : " The landlord,
who has gone away for three months, was evidently very fond of rare
plants. There's a beautiful Awkward House, always kept hot with a
tank in it, and little green frogs at eighteen pence a head. This is
where Awkwards grow. They 're of no use, and some of them are very
lovely. Then there's an Infirmary, with the most gracious ferns I
ever saw, some of them growing oat of pots and some out of banks,
the banks being covered with bunches of green Moses. The walls of
the cottage, are hardly visible on account of the ivory growing all over.
Creepers come in at the bedroom windows, and by the river-side there
are plenty of weeping Willies. Creepers and weepers. As to fruit, we
have apples, pears, greengages, and as there is, I am told, a pine-wood
somewhere near, I've no doubt that we could find plenty of pine-
apples in the neighbourhood. There are (as for vegetables) cucumbers,
quite pictures in frames, and vegetable Marys growing out of doors.
There are hot-houses all about, which perhaps makes this rather a cold
house, that is, by caparison. The grapes are lovely, and quite sour,
but plenty of them, which makes Mr. Filmer's son-in-law say (he is
what they call a wag, or a wig, though I don't understand politics),
that though we don't want to put on our best dresses in the country,
yet we have plenty of vinery. We've got a Miranda before the dining-
room window, which is a cover to go under when it rains. This
Miranda is paved with desolated tiles, the same as you see in the
cathedrals and churches. Do you know the difference between a
cathedral and a church ? I '11 tell you, as our good Vigour explained
it. ' A cathedral,' says he, 'is a sort of church for the ordinary ; and
the other is merely an ordinary church.'
" 1 Ordinary,' it appears, means ' Bishop ': I thought it always meant

dinner at one o'clock, a sort of Tarble Boat, as they say abroad. We've
got a fearful lot of Woppses here; and we spend our breakfast-time
hordy cumbar (to coat the French) with our knives and forks and
spoons in our hands, and our napkins waving about to keep 'em off.
Mr. Eilmer, Junius, he says that they can't sting if you only get hold
of 'em and punch 'em to death. Crudat Dufceus, as the Romans say.

" Yours warmly,

" Layinia D, Ramsbotham."

AN HONEST IRISHMAN.

In the Irish Sportsman and Farmer (an interesting journal of the
Field class) we read—

" A certain gentleman—we name no names—proposing himself, by adver-
tisement, for a city office—we define no further—says, if he be elected, he will
perform his duties with ability, and to everybody's satisfaction."

Why name no names ? We should like to know the gentleman. He
is straightforward enough to say point-blank what every other candidate
for office says with a circumbendibus. We admire his frankness. He
has taken a leaf out of Mr. Punch's book, and whosoever does that,
prospers, for it is a gold leaf he takes.

Germans, Great and Small.

In consequence of the war now raging between the two chief military
nations of Europe, there will be, it is feared, a scarcity of German
sausages. But, on the contrary, the probability is that we shall have a
glut of them. Recollect that the troops engaged on both sides will
include cavalry.