Punch (64.1873)

178

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[April 26, 1873.

FASHIONABLE DEFORMITY.

ill you, Ladies—
fashionable Ladies
—please to spare
two minutes of
your valuable time
to reading what was
said, the other day,
by Mb. Teget-
meieb, before a
number of the
members of the
National Health
Society, who met
to hear him lec-
ture upon that de-
lightful subject-
Dress :—

" The outrageous
fashion of constrict-
ing the waist, and
thus altering the na-
tural form of the body,
■ was the greatest evil
connected with female
dress. They had come

MORE PUFFS WANTED.

Oub theatrical advertising friends give us very delightful, if
somewhat monotonous, reading, every morning. We are charmed
to think of " the still waters of the Thames rushing swiftly," we are
greatly comforted to know that though a fire is so tremendous to
behold there is no real danger, we are gratified with the sweet
English of the announcement that an eminent actor will appear in
the " dual roles " (which they are not, but the two parts) of Some-
body and Somebody else ; and we are very glad to know that Shak-
speabe's comedy of Much Ado About Nothing is, in a Manager's
opinion, " sparkling."

But as this sort of thing has been served up for a long time, we
might petition for a little variety. Why do not the Managers imi-
tate another class of persons who push off drugs by means of puffin? ?
Let us have some testimonials to the efficacy of given dramas. Mr.
Punch is never ill-natured, and would not hurt anybody's feelings
for the world, so in giving an idea of what he means, he disclaims
the intention of alluding to any theatre in particular. The stars
forbid that he should make "uncalled-for remarks." But why
can't we have something like this ?—

he wa3 talking to a lady, whose weight was about twelve stone, and she told
him that the size of her waist was eighteen inches ; and he had measured
many of the villanous bands with which the female waist was bound, and
found that they did not exceed that size. Into a space, then, of eighteen
inches the lungs, heart, liver, and stomach—the four largest and most
important organs of the body—were to be compressed."

A joker might remark that a fashionable lady is like a strict
economist, because she makes a great fuss about a little waist. But
the practice of tight-lacing is two serious to be laughed about. It
can clearly be no joke to squeeze your heart, and lungs, and liver—
to say nothing of your stomach (think of that, ye Aldermen !)—into
a space that many a man with his two hands could span. Women
who, for fashion's sake, perform this hateful feat, are virtually
guilty of committing actual suicide, and deserve well to be buried
at fotir cross roads when they die.

But, Ladies, read a little further what was said upon the subject:—

" The system of tight-lacing was attended with the greatest possible evil.
The heart could not act, consequently the circulation was impeded; and as
none of the organs were properly nourished, disease of the whole body here
and there took place. They got even the most visible effects of impeded cir-
culation. Women who tight-laced suffered from cold feet and got red noses.
(Laughter.) If they would only bear that fact in mind, it might have a
greater effect upon them than, perhaps, any consideration of health."

Here, one would think, is what should act as a deterrent from
tight-lacing, if the fear of even suicide should be found to fail of
doing so. Many a lady might consent to die a martyr to the fashion,
who would shrink from it in terror if she thought her nose would
suffer by it. Yet haply a red nose may, in course of time, be viewed
as a fashionable ornament, and love-songs may be written, by the
lovers of May fair, in the manner of the following :—

My love has got a red, red nose,

Like roses blown in June :
Her vital organs, clear it shows,

Are sadly out of tune.
My love has got a waspish waist,

A waspish temper, too ;
Alack, she is so tightly laced,

The year she '11 scarce live through.

My love is like an hour-glass,

So slender is her shape :
Her sand s of life full soon will pass,

Her grave's e'en now agape.
But ah! red nose, nor gaping tomb,

Are fearful in her eye ;
Rather to health sans stays than come,

She '11 in the fashion die.

Theatre Royal, Bloohsbuby Square.
The Management is permitted to publish the following letter, the
original of which may be seen at the Box Office between 10 and 5—
fee optional: —

Sir,—I feel it my duty to bear sincere testimony to the merits of
to look upon this y0ur great and beautiful drama, The Serpent's Whisper. For nine
constriction almost as nights I had enjoyed no sleep whatever. A friend advised me to
natural, but it wu in j buy a box at your houge_ £ did ^ bufc with Uttle faith in the

fortuity1 NoUono-aa-o ' remedy. Before the first Act was over, I was sleeping as soundly as
ever in my life, and I did not rouse till the box-keeper informed me
that the house was being shut up. Then I awoke, " bright as a
button." I have attended several times since, with the same happy
fortune, and I recommend The Serpent''s Whisper to all my friends.
Make whatever use you please of this communication, and believe me

Your faithful Servant,

Wldgery Popps.

an eastern subject.

Wapping seems a most unlikely place for a person of studious
habits to select as a retreat. Yet, amongst the pictures in the Inter-
national Exhibition at Kensington we find A Study at Wapping.

Theatre Royal, Hampstead Heath.
The following letter will speak for itself :—

Sir,—I have to thank you for adding a considerable sum of money
to my means. I had lately witnessed, at a rival establishment, the
performance of a piece called the Fiery Tombstone. A friend, who
accompanied me, betted with me, heavily, that this was the worst
play in the whole world. I took him to your theatre, where we
beheld the representation of your brilliant piece, the Boiled Owl of
Avernus. He instantly felt that he had lost, and signed a cheque
for the bet, while we were partaking of the charmingly warmed
soda-water ministered at your refreshment stall.

Yours very sincerely,

William Bunker.

Theatre Royal, Salisbuby Plain.

Averse to self-praise, the Manager feels it a duty to give publicity
to this testimonial from a stranger:—

Sir,—Domestic details cannot be uninteresting to one who, like
yourself, is so successful with the domestic drama. It has been my
misfortune to unite myself in holy padlock with a lady who is of an
unsympathetic nature and a bitterly bad temper. We quarrel
terribly from morning to night. But we are sometimes conscious of
our unhappy condition, and lament it. The other evening my wife,
in an unusually softened mood, observed that not a misery could be
added to our life. I immediately ordered a cab, and took her to
your theatre, to witness your new burlesque, Strabismus ; or, the
Winking Walrus of Westphalia. We endured it to the end, and,
as we returned in abject depression, we agreed that we had still
something to be thankful for. We are very wretched, but we
need not see your piece again, unless we like,—and we don't like.

Yours gratefully,

Babnaby Fudge.

N.B. To Managers.

The above suggestion is Registered, and any person using it with-
out Mr. Punch's sanction will be prosecuted with the utmost rage
and fury of the law.

Equality on Horseback.

In connection with Women's Rights, it is whispered that a move-
ment is about to be set on foot amongst fair equestrians for the
abolition of side-saddles. Why not ? How charmingly Mrs. Rousby
looked as Joan of Arc mounted!