Punch (63.1872)

July 20, 1872.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

29

HAPPY THOUGHTS.

Going up to town by
train, a really Happy
/^llfjlp Thought occurs to me,

/J||I|®A suggested by a conversa-

^JIll|sliL'\ ^on whi°h I can't help
overhearing. The conver-

En^^^F^^Sp™^^ sation is about farming.

V ;/pQt v# lhe conversers (or ver-

Xjl^^^S consers" according to

bsl^^^S^^^^^^ jDixon's Johnsonary) are

^ra^^f' two agriculturists.

M^^^w" ^^^^vi Happy Thought.—Gen-

\ :1V tlemen - farmers. Be a

' l*lS°§fflm Gentleman and be a

^-^111 .'^^k- Earmer. Equal parts ju-

^J^^^^^^^^Smk- ^G^ous^y mixed. Must

:™^^^»h!^SHBrv ^s^en' an^- occasionally

iUfsl mSM ifflll ? UP' an<^ ^en no^e
I!!!! /■'sPs down. This repeated often

^^ti^^IIh™! nmst be valuable.
Illk llliifillsllfr What I gather from
^ahP^" their conversation {which
?&^~~^JXn~ is difficult to catch, as they
es!*r "~*^ talk towards the window,

occasionally looking out).
That it is a capital thing to roll a meadow. Always give top-
dressings to- [What it is I can't hear, but can fill this up another

time.] That hay won't be so dear this year as last. That you " give it

saddled with a pony—(paddled with a soney, vide Dixon's John-
sonary) before I knew where I was, so to speak. When I've got
the farm I shall want one. •

" I'll tell you who told me about him," says Telfoed, turning to
his friend, and referring to the pony.

"WhoP" asks his friend.

" Ned, the Gipsy," replies Telford.

I watch with interest the effect of this information on his friend.
I rather expect him (I don't know why) to pooh-pooh Ned the Gipsy.

"Um!" returns his friend, thinking it over, "I saw the Gipsy
with a pony at Twigham Meeting. He wanted me to have it."
Here he suddenly breaks off, as if the subject were an unpleasant
one to revert to. It leaves me in a reverie as to whether he did have
it or not. I should like to ask him. I feel that it's an unfinished
tale. The tail of a pony unfinished. Wonder, by the way, who
invented this jew de mots on " tale " and " tail." How it must have
set the table in a roar when first said. I should like to hear the
history of The First Joke. Date 3 a.d. " a.d." here means Anti-
Deluge. There were some very queer words then, suitable for jeu
de tnots.

Happy Thought.—For a proverb, There are good and bad jokes in
all languages. A sort of Proverb. Joke-Explorers might make
voyages, like De. Livingstone, in search of a joke, or like Diogenes,
with a lantern, in quest of a good honest joke. Happy title for
Tales of Adventure, The Joke Catchers.

Ch. I. How they heard of a joke. Ch. II. How they set out to
catch that joke. Ch. III. How they heard two Joke-Crackers in the
distance. Ch. IV. How tbey came on the Joke-Crackers' tracks—
(good phrase this for Dixon's Johnsonary. Ask my Aunt to try it,
and see what she makes of it). Ch. V. How they came on an

em green" in the summer. " 'Em" refers, I suppose, to horses, and extinct Volcano, which had busted itself with laughter. Ch. VI.
"green" to grass. That some people don't "give it 'em green." j How they lost their way in the Pwi-jab, where the Punjabberers
Hay is now three fifteen to four ten. I wonder if this is by the peck j dwell. Ch. VII. How they couldn't see the joke. Ch. VIII.
or the bushel. One agriculturist observes, that "he finds it best How several weeks passed, and_ yet they couldn't see the joke,
in certain cases to give his animal roots." [ Ch. IX. How at last one of their party made a shot at the joke.

Query.—What animal ? What roots ? What certain occasions ? j Ch. X. How the joke fell flat. Ch. XI. How one of their party
The other gentleman-farmer agrees with him. Yes ; certainly decided that it was no joke. Ch. XII. How, at all events, they all
roots. Is he (his friend) well off for roots? Yes, it appears he is ' said they'd heard of a much better joke than that. Ch. XIII.
tolerably well, but won't want 'em now. The other one supposes | How they set out again. Ch. XIV. How they did not catch that
that he won't. The train stops—it is going to stop very often, as ! joke, Brave Boys! But being taken by the Punjabberers and Joke-

my Aunt Jane dislikes express travelling—and a stout gentleman
in a light suit gets in with a friend.

Happy Thought.—Telfoed (in the light suit). The very man I
wanted to see.

Curious chance! Quite a coincidence! He is a great hand at
farming, agriculture, horticulture, and chicken-culture. I introduce
him to my Aunt. He introduces his friend, and we are supposed
now to know each other. At the same moment the gentlemen-
farmers descend.

Happy Thought.—Consult Telfoed. Tell him my plans. Going
to see a German Farm.

" Aha ! " he laughs at once. " I know. Seen 'em in toys. German
trees with Christmas things on 'em." And this notion amuses him
immensely. His friend smiles, as an acquaintance. Aunt Jane is
amused. Telfoed has such a remarkably jolly laugh, that to hear
him is enough to set other people off without knowing the joke. He
shakes a good deal in laughing, and from a twinkle in his eye one is
apt to fancy that he knows another joke worth two of the one he's
apparently enjoying now.

And what are you doing here ?" This is my question. On
consideration, indiscreet, because if he doesn't wish to tell me " what
he is doing here," he must either be rude, and retort with " What's
that to you ? " or must tell a lie.

Happy Thought.—To add immediately, playfully, " I won't press
the question."

This again (on consideration) is indiscreet. It conveys (I see it

Crackers were cruelly sold. Ch. XV. How they could only escape
by coming across a very broad joke, and a very dangerous joke.
Ch. XVI. How they came to a kingdom where their motto was,
Pro aris et Jocis for our Altars and Jokes. Ch. XVII. How they
were introduced to the Best Joke that ever was made. Ch. XVIII.
How they laughed at it, and wouldn't listen to the Worst Joke.
Ch. XlX. How the Worst Joke being irritated, fought the Best
Joke. Ch. XX. How the Worst took Best. Ch. XXI. How
the Worst retaliated upon the Joke-Explorers, and ordered the
Joke-Crackers to tickle their fancies, and the Word-Twisters to
torment their ears, until at leiigth the tears poured down the cheeks
of the Joke-Explorers. Ch. XXII. How, finally, they died o'

laughing.....

All this out of a Pony's tail!

One hour in the train passed. One more.

Telfoed says, after a pause, " He '11 go in harness, quiet to ride
and drive, and up to weight."

" The very thing I should like," I say, with a mental reservation
to the effect, " and the very thing I don't mean to have."

My Aunt interposes, " You can't possibly want a pony." I am a
little hurt at this.

"Why not?" I ask.

" Well," she says, " I've never seen you ride."
Telfoed and his friend smile. I protest (because it really is
annoying) against my Aunt's insinuation. " I've not ridden for two
years, but I used to hunt regularly.'"

does) to my Aunt the idea that she is in a carriage with a Don Juan \ " Ah ! " says Telfoed, interested. " What hounds used you to

weighing about sixteen stone, or a Cupid of forty-five unable to get
a pair of wings to carry him.

Telfoed replies that he has come to this part to look after a pony.

I never yet met him, and I've known him some time, when he
wasn't going somewhere to look after a pony, or when he hadn't
"just heard of something to suit him."

Happy Thought.—A Pony. Does he think it would suit me!
His natural reply is the question, "Do you want one?" I may
safely say " Yes " to this, because 1 always want one, and never had
one. Besides, with Telfoed and his friend (who are both very
much sporting-men) it puts one on the same platform for the time
being to want a pony. And being on the same platform one can
converse.

Happy Thought.—Always get on the same platform with another
fellow, if possible.

Telfoed looks me over, and turning to his friend says "he
knows the very thing to suit me."

Happy Thought.—To look perfectly delighted. Think {to my-
self).—Must get out of this again somehow. Perhaps I might be

go with ? "

Happy Thought.—None in particular. Sometimes Leicestershire,
sometimes Dorsetshire ; also Hertfordshire, and—and—many other
packs. _ I revert mentally and especially to the Brighton Harriers.
In talking to thoroughly sporting and hunting men like Telfoed,
it's best not—(I've found this out by experience)—it's best not to
boast much about runs with the Brighton Harriers. There's so
little peril " by flood and field " connected with the B.H. The most
you can say is to a friend who's been out with them, " That was a
nasty hill you came down, when you got off and walked," or " That
was a stiff bit of country up that hill where I was obliged to dis-
mount." Also, "There were some awkward ruts in that last-
ploughed field;" and then with enthusiasm, "It was a splendid
burst across those turnips!!" And, cunningly, "I think that
ditch (2 feet by 1) or that furze bush (2 feet high) choked off a few
of them."

"Well," says my Aunt, with something of irony in her tone
which doesn't suit her, "I'm sure I wouldn't have said so if I
hadn't thought it. But I've never seen you on horseback, and