Punch (60.1871)

112

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[March IS, 1871.

CONVALESCENCE.

Gent "I see you've Got your Horse back again, Cabby. Is he Better?"

Cabby {whose Horse lias been out at Grass). " Thank ye Sir, I think he is keeping Better. Leastways, he commenced a
Kicking again this Morning."

they are the only persons in the large dining-room. I am announced,
and shown in. I don't know the friend. They have two decanters
on the table, one nearly empty, the other half full, and some legal-
looking papers are lying between them.

Mxnsley and friend have either had quite as much as is good for
them, or have been both fast asleep.

Both attempt to be excessively polite. The friend smiles and
bows, and evidently would rise if he could only move his chair away
from the table.

Minsley says, " Aha! " and looks at me as if trying to see me
through a mist.

I am introduced to his friend (who tries to rise again, and is
puzzled by his chair), whose name seems to be, as pronounced by
Minsley, Mr. Wednesday.

He says, "Let me in'duce Mis' Wens'dat," and omits my name
entirely. Mr. Wensday smiles blandly, and in waving his hand
(intending, I fancy, to motion me with the utmost politeness to a
seat), upsets a wine-glass. At this they both laugh, though Wens-
day appears to be a little discomfited, and mutters something about
" 'ts not being worth mentioning." I seat myself, and am about to
address Minsley, when I notice that lie is suddenly dozing, while
Wensday is still bowing to me, and smiling.

I observe to Minsley that if he's too sleepy to attend to business
now, I '11 write to him, as I shan't have time to call before leaving
town.

He wakes up at the mention of business, and replies, " Certainly.
I can 'tend. Go on." Then, by a sudden inspiration, " Take some-
thing." Wliereupon Wensday, who is helping himself to claret
(and pouring some on the law papers), " begs pardon, and hopes I '11
join"—with which he knocks over his wine-glass, and looking
angrily round, as if some one had jogged his elbow, says, " Wai'r,
wine-glass to thisgen'man." Then he smiles upon me as before.

Whatever Minsley is, there is no doubt about it Wensday's
very far gone.

I found out afterwards that his name is Middleborough, but
that before I came in they'd been discussing something important

to be done on Wednesday, and Minsley (so he says) had somehow
got the word on his lips, and really was quite unaware he'd made
the mistake.

Mem. This explanation comes to me by post, days after.

I mention why I am forced to go away. My Health. Wensday
says, "By all means; in a bumper," and is calling for another
bottle of claret when I manage to make him understand that I am
not proposing a toast. More smiles from Wensday. While this
passage is occurring between us, Minsley goes beyond a doze, and
fairly snores.

As it is improbable I shall get him to attend to any business (and
mine being important and pecuniary, requires a clear head), I rise

to SO- . , . . ,

I leave TV ensday—quite unable to get away from his chair, but

polite to the last—smiling, bowing, and saying something indis-
tinctly, " Bett'r stop—fish it "—(he means " finish it," it being the
bottle)—and Minsley fast asleep, with his chin hiding his white tie.

Mem. Xot a good time to call on Minsley as a man of business.
Wonder what those law papers were about that they'd got on the
table between them ? Wonder when they got home, and how ?

A Great Traveller.

Dr. Watts was evidently in the habit of making pedestrian
exclusions on the Continent, for in one of his noblest lines, he
expressly says—

" Whene'er I take ray walks Abroad."

Odd Notion.

Our ancestors had strange ideas of amusement. For example, they
actually took pleasure in songs which were composed in " Fits."

A Proverb Fulfilled. — " Every dog has his day." Master
ML Grath's was Wednesday, March the First, when he -visited
Windsor Castle.