Punch (62.1872)

Fbbruaby 3, 1872.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

43

PRIVATE SCHOOL CLASSICS.

a monastery, and worships graven images. [Yon see he had been
beautifully taught.]

(T>««- -from a Ladu ) 1 ^aPa- But what word, in the name of anachronisms, do you

v j . . j.j make a nun P

Johnny. Nonne. 0, I forgot, Pa, that's French. [Instead of being
pleased that the child knew three languages instead of two, his
Papa burst out laughing.]
Papa. Try this :—

Ft mains celeri saucius Africa,
Antennceque gemantf ac sine funibus
Vix durare carince
Possint imperiosius
Mquor ?

Johnny. And celery sauce is bad for an African,

And your aunts groan though there is no funeral,
And they could not be more imperious
If they had to endure a sea-voyage.

Myself. Darling! Why don't you say something to encourage
him, Tom? It's delightful.

Papa. Yes, it's encouraging. Go on, Sir.

-non tibi sunt integra lintea

Non di, quos iterum pressa voces mala.
Deae Me. Punch, I Johnny, You have no large pieces of lint.

Though you love to laugh, and we all love to laugh with I ' Do not die though they again press you to say apple

you, 1 know that you are kindness itself when an arnicted woman
throws herself upon your sympathy. This letter will not be quite
so short as I could wish ; but, unless you have my whole story, you
will not understand my sorrow.

My boy, Johnny, is one of the dearest boys you can imagine. I
send you his photograph, though it does not half justice to the
sweetness and intelligence of his features; besides, on the day it was
taken, he had a cold, and his hair had not been properly cut, and
thy photographer was very impatient, and after eight or nine sittings,
he insisted that I ought to be satisfied. 1 could tell you a hundred
anecdotes of my boy's cleverness, but three or four, perhai>s, will be
enough.

[More than enough, dear Madam. We proceed to the paragraph

that follows them.^\ J writing. I was making notes.J

His father, I regret to say, though a kind parent, does not see in I Nuper sollicitum qiue mihi tedium

Johnny the talent and genius which I am certain he possesses. The !

child, who is eleven years and eleven months old, goes (alas, I must Johnny. Lately a solicitor was a great bore to me.

say went) to a Private Academy of the most respectable description. Papa. [To do him justice, he recovered his good-humour and

Papa. Nil pictis timidus navita puppibus

Fidit!

Johnny. No sailor is frightened at the dogs in a picture he sees.
Papa. Fidit's, he sees, eh ?

-Tu, ?iisi ventis

Debes ludibrium, cave.

Johnny. If it wasn't for the wind,

You ought to play in a cave.
Papa. Ha ! Well, here's the last; we may as well go through it.
Myself. Papa! don't be so cross.

Papa. Mind your letter-writing, will you? [But I wasn't letter-

Only twelve young gentlemen are taken, and the terms are about
£100 a-year, and most things extra. The manners of the pupils are
strictly looked after; they have no coarse amusements ; and, to see
them neatlv dressed, going arm-in-arm, two and two, for a walk,
was quite delightful. I shall never see them again without tears.

My husband was desirous that Johnny should have a sound clas-
sical education, and we believed—I believe still—that this is given at
the Private School in question. One evening during the holidays, my
husband asked Johnny what Latin Book he was reading. The child
replied, without hesitation or thought—"Horace." " Very good,"
said his father, taking down the odious book. "Let you and me
have a little go-in at Horace." I went to my desk, Mr. Punch, and,
as I write very fast, I resolved to make notes of what occurred, for I
felt that Johnny would cover himself with glory and honour. This
is what occurred. Of course, I filled in the horrid Latin, after-
wards, from the book, which I could gladly have burned.

Papa. Well, let us see, my boy, suppose we take Hymn number
xiv. You know all about that ? Ad Rempublicam. What does that
mean ?

Johnny. 0, we never learn the titles.

Papa. Pity, because they help you to the meaning. But come,
what's Rempublicam f

Johnny. I suppose it means a public thing. Rem's a thing, and
publicus is public. [Was not that clever in the dear fellow, putting
words together like that, Mr. Punch ? Will you believe it, his Papa
did nothing but give him a grunt ?]

Papa. Go on.

0 navis, referent in mare te novi
Fluctus. O quid agis ?

Johnny. 0, navy, referring to the sea. I have known thee.

What will the waves do ?
[I thought this quite beautiful, like " What are the Wild Waves
Saying ? "]
Papa. Ah! Proceed.

-fortiter occupa

Portum. Nonne tides--

roared.] A great bore, was he ? They are bores sometimes. Now
then—

Nunc desiderium, curaque non levis.

Johnny. I do not care for the light of the stars.
Papa. Hang it, Johnny, how do you get at " stars " in that line?
Johnny. De, of, siderium, dative, no, genitive plural of sidus, a
star, Papa, and levis is light.

Papa. Finish. Interfusa nitentes

Vites eequora Cycladas.

What do you make of that? "With an infusion of nitre the
vines are equal to Cyclops "—is that it?

Johnny. I think so, Papa dear. The Cyclops were great giants,
who poked out the eye of Achilles with a hot stick, for throwing
stones at their ship.

Papa. Go to bed !

Johnny. What for, Papa ?

Myself. Yes, what for, Tom ? I'm sure the dear fellow has done
his best to please you.

Papa. You are right. It is I who ought to be sent to bed. All
right, Johnny. Let us have a game at the Battle of Dorking—get
the board. That's good fun. But £100 a-year, and sollicitum, a soli-
citor, isn't. However, we '11 alter that.

And, dear Mr. Punch, he gave notice the very next day that
Johnny should not go back to the Private School, and is going to send
him to a College, to be starved, fagged, beaten, knocked down with
cricket-balls, trampled down at football, and taught to fight.

Believe me, yours,

An Unhappy Mother.

True Thomas of Chelsea.

It was Me. Caelyle who first revealed the existence of Phantasm
Captains, which many people refused to believe in, and laughed at
the notion of. What do they say now that a Board of Captains in
Johnny. Bravely occupy the door. command over Captains and Admirals too is called by its own

You see a nun. j Secretary a Phantom Board? Surely that Thomas of _ Chelsea is a

Papa. A nun, child. What do you mean 0 j true Seer, and long since saw through Simulacra which have, in

Johnny. A nun is a holy but mistaken woman, Papa, that lives in truth, at last been discovered to be transparent Shams.