DOI issue:
August 20, 1870
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16886#0092
August 20, 1870.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
83
We drive on until we stick in a sort of dry marsh of fine sand, into " There's the basket; and boy; and dog," he exclaims, with an air of
•which the horses sink nearly up to their knees, and our wheels up to [ artistic pride, handing the fly-leaf of Murray (he generally does them
their axles. Further progress is impossible. An idea strikes the in-! in some odd corners of books, or on scraps of paper, preserved after-
telligent Jomp, who turns to us from his perch on the box and says,
" Vill you stop here ? "
Under the circumstances our reply is that we will, whereupon Jomp
descends, opens the door, and we step as lightly as possible on to the
sand.
Gooch and his friends being in low shoes protest in forcible language,
and stand still, looking about for less sand.
Bund, preceded by Jomp with the bag and umbrella, ascends the
hillock which commands the beach, and Maullie, after shading his
eves with his hand for a minute-and-a-hatf, as if looking about where to *\ wn°18 evidently trying to recover Ins position in the
take Scheveningen unexpectedly, commences cutting a pencil by way j ™am/er 8 estimation, looks over his elbow at the drawing, and say
wards in his pocket-book) to us for inspection.
I say, " Yes," doubtfully ; but add, " I suppose that '11 recall to your
mind the whole scene ; " i. e., Schevening, the sand, the one hundred and
fifty boats, the crowd of costumes, the etablissement, the huts, the
houses, the carts, the sunset, the sea, &c., &c.
Gooch observes, "That it's a great thing to be able to sketch."
Our opinions are, perhaps, somewhat biassed by the remembrance
of the constitution under which as a Club, we are travelling ; i. e., that
the Commander Bund is Paymaster.
Jomp, who is evidently trying to recover his position iu the Com-
of coming to the point as soon as possible.
" Coming to the point" was Muntley's joke, and would have been
highly successful (as no doubt he has found it on several other previous
occasions) but for the sand in our shoes, the unpleasant walking, the
hot sun, the peculiarly strong odour of fish, (not unlike that of a poor
sagely-
" Ab, yes, urn—um—urn," he is considering the subject—"it i's very
goot. Yes, oh yes—dere is de leetle dog," and he carefully points out
what Bund intended for the basket.
Gooch and myself side with Jomp an this occasion only. We say.
not sun, tne peculiarly strong ouour oi usn, ^not uninte inai, ui a pour «ym +u„ ,j„„ „„____A ■., ., • , ■ , ,c ■ 7- , ,
quarter of London on a Saturday night) and the improbability of our FoY'S/,ihemd°fpf 7fetZ \s f;he amma 1 s,elf ma/ew touches."
being able to get any refreshment "except perhaps," says Gooch, in lor l'he ™aU^ of that, it_ s about as much like ft bathing-machine
a tone of unmitigated disgust, " tea and shrimps." N.B. Always care-
i'ally select your time to be funny, or else—Boompje !
Jomp makes a discovery. (Boomp-je!!) He sees in the distance an
efablissement, and with a view to ingratiating himself with Gooch, points
it out to him privately.
Gooch, Muntley and Finton are delighted.
" By Jove!" exclaims Gooch, whose mind at once reverts to Trou-
ville, Dieppe, and Boulogne. " I dare say there's a band there, and a
restaurant."
" And lots of people," suggests Muntley.
" And the French papers; the Figaro" suggests Finton, this being
the only French paper he knows.
" Do you know," Gooch asks of Jomp, who has suddenly inspired
him with confidence on account of his discovering the etablissement, " if
there is a promenade here ?" Muntley and Finton both listen anxiously
for the answer. A promenade to them means lounging about vaguely,
examining the toilettes of the ladies, remarking upon " Doosid pretty
girls those," asking one another, "Who's that? d'you know?"
smoking cigarettes, settling their ties, coaxing their collars, and keep-
ing their wristbands well, en evidence, by dint of perpetual pulling up
and shooting out their arms as if engaged in some species of gymnastic
exercise. This last performance, by the way, Muntley terms "flashing
his linen." As the Count and his friends would be perfectly happy to
pass their afternoon in this simple fashion, they are all ears lor Jomp's
answer concerning the promenade.
" Oh yes," replies Jomp, with such an air of certainty as would
make any one who knew him receive his information with a consider-
able amount of caution. " Dere is a promenade."
" Where ? " asks Finton.
" Oh," returns Jomp, as if to put such a question was utterly absurd,
" Vere ?—'ere." He' extends his arms on either side in the attitude of
a street juggler chucking the balls and knives, and looks from right to
left, and then from left to right, thereby taking in the whole line of the
seashore of Schevening.
" But they don't walk about in this sand ? " exclaims Gooch, who
sees no sign, except the existence of the etablissement, of anything like
a fashionable promenade.
" Oh yes," retorts Jomp, " Dey valk in de sand." He thinks it out
and adds, " Dere's no vere eke."
" I wish we'd known it was a fashionable place," says Gooch,
" we'd have got Maullie another hat at the Hague."
Maullie is on the sands, sketch-book and pencil out.
Muntley and Finton goto inspect, the etablissement: they are to
return and report to Gooch. Bund has followed Maullie, and is
pointing out to him what he ought to draw.
Maullie is sketching one of the hundred and fifty picturesque
fishing-boats which are waiting for the tide in order to put out to sea,
and is carefully noting down ail the details. Bund is pointing out a
boy with a dog in a totally different direction from that where Maul-
lie's eyes are engaged. "I say," exclaims Bund, who flatters himself
on a great appreciation of the picturesque, "there's a bit for you to
draw."
"Eh? " says Maullie, steadily continuing his boat.
" Boy with dog," Bund goes on, as if he was settling the name of
the picture in next year's Academy Catalogue, "and fishing-basket.
Just, look what a quaint old fishing-basket."
Maullle pooh-poohs the suggestion, whereupon Bund sets to work
to make what he calls just an artistic memorandum, which, he informs
us, conveys more to his mind, subsequently, than any writing could do.
What it may convey to his mind, it is impossible to say; but having
seen the original of the sketch, it is quite certain that this is not con-
veyed to our minds by what may be called the Boompje hieroglyphic.
The Commander, BrjND, is always " dashing off," as he calls it, a little
sketch.
as a dog, but Bund (who had intended it for the basket, or the boy,
but certainly not the dog, there is no doubt about it, from the angry
expression of his countenance, when he was going to retort upon
Jomp) takes all the credit he can for the cleverness of the sketch, and
to prevent any future mistakes, labels the thing, which we had settled
upon as representing the dog, with a "D," and then, entirely mistrust-
ing his own powers and intention, asks us knowingly, which we should
say was the boy.
We choose, out of the two remaining figures, the boy (of course, it
is the basket, though Gooch has some doubts upon the point), and
Bund labels that No. 2, with a reference below : thus, No. 2, the Boy,
and No. 3, the Basket, adding a line to the effect that the above i3 a
Sketch taken on Schevening Beach, Sunset.
THE BLOT IN THE WIVES' PROPERTY BILL.
{Song by a Lady of Fashion.)
I am the Mamma of three beautiful daughters,
Whom married and settled I wish I could see,
A good deal of bread we have cast on the waters,
Accomplished, attractive, that those girls might be.
Fal lal lal la,
Fal lal lal la.
Its speedy return would be welcome to me.
They have the advantage of good expectations,
Krom uncles and aunts who in riches abound,
When, by the decease of those friends and relations,
Their wishes and mine by-and-by will be crowned ;
Fal lal lal la,
Fal lal lal la :
When those worthy people are all underground.
Time was when the dears' charms and prospects united
Our hands would have got them off safely and soon,
Through hope in the heart of admirers excited,
Hope nipped by that Act, meant to Wives for a boon,
Fal lal lal la,
Fal lal lal la,
Which makes men whales that are hard to harpoon.
To come in for money, not getting one penny
In hand, they could once dare your daughter to take.
But now they themselves may thereby ne'er get any
in marriage thev fear they a blunder may make.
Fal lal lal la,
Fal lal lal la.
They none want a wife for her own simple sake.
Appropriate.
A. Book is advertised entitled Principles at Stake; being Fssays on
Church Questions. Surely this would be a good name for a history of
the Religious persecutions under Henry, Edward, Mary and Eliza-
beth, for if ever " Principles " were " at stake," that was the time.
clerical.
May a poor Curate, who aspires in course of time to expand into
Bishop, be reasonably cautioned that his hope is a for-lawn one ?
Mushroom Culture.—Toadying New Baronets.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
83
We drive on until we stick in a sort of dry marsh of fine sand, into " There's the basket; and boy; and dog," he exclaims, with an air of
•which the horses sink nearly up to their knees, and our wheels up to [ artistic pride, handing the fly-leaf of Murray (he generally does them
their axles. Further progress is impossible. An idea strikes the in-! in some odd corners of books, or on scraps of paper, preserved after-
telligent Jomp, who turns to us from his perch on the box and says,
" Vill you stop here ? "
Under the circumstances our reply is that we will, whereupon Jomp
descends, opens the door, and we step as lightly as possible on to the
sand.
Gooch and his friends being in low shoes protest in forcible language,
and stand still, looking about for less sand.
Bund, preceded by Jomp with the bag and umbrella, ascends the
hillock which commands the beach, and Maullie, after shading his
eves with his hand for a minute-and-a-hatf, as if looking about where to *\ wn°18 evidently trying to recover Ins position in the
take Scheveningen unexpectedly, commences cutting a pencil by way j ™am/er 8 estimation, looks over his elbow at the drawing, and say
wards in his pocket-book) to us for inspection.
I say, " Yes," doubtfully ; but add, " I suppose that '11 recall to your
mind the whole scene ; " i. e., Schevening, the sand, the one hundred and
fifty boats, the crowd of costumes, the etablissement, the huts, the
houses, the carts, the sunset, the sea, &c., &c.
Gooch observes, "That it's a great thing to be able to sketch."
Our opinions are, perhaps, somewhat biassed by the remembrance
of the constitution under which as a Club, we are travelling ; i. e., that
the Commander Bund is Paymaster.
Jomp, who is evidently trying to recover his position iu the Com-
of coming to the point as soon as possible.
" Coming to the point" was Muntley's joke, and would have been
highly successful (as no doubt he has found it on several other previous
occasions) but for the sand in our shoes, the unpleasant walking, the
hot sun, the peculiarly strong odour of fish, (not unlike that of a poor
sagely-
" Ab, yes, urn—um—urn," he is considering the subject—"it i's very
goot. Yes, oh yes—dere is de leetle dog," and he carefully points out
what Bund intended for the basket.
Gooch and myself side with Jomp an this occasion only. We say.
not sun, tne peculiarly strong ouour oi usn, ^not uninte inai, ui a pour «ym +u„ ,j„„ „„____A ■., ., • , ■ , ,c ■ 7- , ,
quarter of London on a Saturday night) and the improbability of our FoY'S/,ihemd°fpf 7fetZ \s f;he amma 1 s,elf ma/ew touches."
being able to get any refreshment "except perhaps," says Gooch, in lor l'he ™aU^ of that, it_ s about as much like ft bathing-machine
a tone of unmitigated disgust, " tea and shrimps." N.B. Always care-
i'ally select your time to be funny, or else—Boompje !
Jomp makes a discovery. (Boomp-je!!) He sees in the distance an
efablissement, and with a view to ingratiating himself with Gooch, points
it out to him privately.
Gooch, Muntley and Finton are delighted.
" By Jove!" exclaims Gooch, whose mind at once reverts to Trou-
ville, Dieppe, and Boulogne. " I dare say there's a band there, and a
restaurant."
" And lots of people," suggests Muntley.
" And the French papers; the Figaro" suggests Finton, this being
the only French paper he knows.
" Do you know," Gooch asks of Jomp, who has suddenly inspired
him with confidence on account of his discovering the etablissement, " if
there is a promenade here ?" Muntley and Finton both listen anxiously
for the answer. A promenade to them means lounging about vaguely,
examining the toilettes of the ladies, remarking upon " Doosid pretty
girls those," asking one another, "Who's that? d'you know?"
smoking cigarettes, settling their ties, coaxing their collars, and keep-
ing their wristbands well, en evidence, by dint of perpetual pulling up
and shooting out their arms as if engaged in some species of gymnastic
exercise. This last performance, by the way, Muntley terms "flashing
his linen." As the Count and his friends would be perfectly happy to
pass their afternoon in this simple fashion, they are all ears lor Jomp's
answer concerning the promenade.
" Oh yes," replies Jomp, with such an air of certainty as would
make any one who knew him receive his information with a consider-
able amount of caution. " Dere is a promenade."
" Where ? " asks Finton.
" Oh," returns Jomp, as if to put such a question was utterly absurd,
" Vere ?—'ere." He' extends his arms on either side in the attitude of
a street juggler chucking the balls and knives, and looks from right to
left, and then from left to right, thereby taking in the whole line of the
seashore of Schevening.
" But they don't walk about in this sand ? " exclaims Gooch, who
sees no sign, except the existence of the etablissement, of anything like
a fashionable promenade.
" Oh yes," retorts Jomp, " Dey valk in de sand." He thinks it out
and adds, " Dere's no vere eke."
" I wish we'd known it was a fashionable place," says Gooch,
" we'd have got Maullie another hat at the Hague."
Maullie is on the sands, sketch-book and pencil out.
Muntley and Finton goto inspect, the etablissement: they are to
return and report to Gooch. Bund has followed Maullie, and is
pointing out to him what he ought to draw.
Maullie is sketching one of the hundred and fifty picturesque
fishing-boats which are waiting for the tide in order to put out to sea,
and is carefully noting down ail the details. Bund is pointing out a
boy with a dog in a totally different direction from that where Maul-
lie's eyes are engaged. "I say," exclaims Bund, who flatters himself
on a great appreciation of the picturesque, "there's a bit for you to
draw."
"Eh? " says Maullie, steadily continuing his boat.
" Boy with dog," Bund goes on, as if he was settling the name of
the picture in next year's Academy Catalogue, "and fishing-basket.
Just, look what a quaint old fishing-basket."
Maullle pooh-poohs the suggestion, whereupon Bund sets to work
to make what he calls just an artistic memorandum, which, he informs
us, conveys more to his mind, subsequently, than any writing could do.
What it may convey to his mind, it is impossible to say; but having
seen the original of the sketch, it is quite certain that this is not con-
veyed to our minds by what may be called the Boompje hieroglyphic.
The Commander, BrjND, is always " dashing off," as he calls it, a little
sketch.
as a dog, but Bund (who had intended it for the basket, or the boy,
but certainly not the dog, there is no doubt about it, from the angry
expression of his countenance, when he was going to retort upon
Jomp) takes all the credit he can for the cleverness of the sketch, and
to prevent any future mistakes, labels the thing, which we had settled
upon as representing the dog, with a "D," and then, entirely mistrust-
ing his own powers and intention, asks us knowingly, which we should
say was the boy.
We choose, out of the two remaining figures, the boy (of course, it
is the basket, though Gooch has some doubts upon the point), and
Bund labels that No. 2, with a reference below : thus, No. 2, the Boy,
and No. 3, the Basket, adding a line to the effect that the above i3 a
Sketch taken on Schevening Beach, Sunset.
THE BLOT IN THE WIVES' PROPERTY BILL.
{Song by a Lady of Fashion.)
I am the Mamma of three beautiful daughters,
Whom married and settled I wish I could see,
A good deal of bread we have cast on the waters,
Accomplished, attractive, that those girls might be.
Fal lal lal la,
Fal lal lal la.
Its speedy return would be welcome to me.
They have the advantage of good expectations,
Krom uncles and aunts who in riches abound,
When, by the decease of those friends and relations,
Their wishes and mine by-and-by will be crowned ;
Fal lal lal la,
Fal lal lal la :
When those worthy people are all underground.
Time was when the dears' charms and prospects united
Our hands would have got them off safely and soon,
Through hope in the heart of admirers excited,
Hope nipped by that Act, meant to Wives for a boon,
Fal lal lal la,
Fal lal lal la,
Which makes men whales that are hard to harpoon.
To come in for money, not getting one penny
In hand, they could once dare your daughter to take.
But now they themselves may thereby ne'er get any
in marriage thev fear they a blunder may make.
Fal lal lal la,
Fal lal lal la.
They none want a wife for her own simple sake.
Appropriate.
A. Book is advertised entitled Principles at Stake; being Fssays on
Church Questions. Surely this would be a good name for a history of
the Religious persecutions under Henry, Edward, Mary and Eliza-
beth, for if ever " Principles " were " at stake," that was the time.
clerical.
May a poor Curate, who aspires in course of time to expand into
Bishop, be reasonably cautioned that his hope is a for-lawn one ?
Mushroom Culture.—Toadying New Baronets.