DOI Heft:
December 13, 1873
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16937#0246
234
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[December 13, 1873.
COMING EVENTS.
delightful antici-
pation, both old
and young are
looking forward to
Boxing Night —
to the Christmas
Pantomimes and
the Extravaganzas
which immemorial
custom and the
wisdom of our an-
cestors have for
ages associated
with that time-
honoured evening.
That a treat of no
ordinary descrip-
tion is in store for
us this year will
be sufficiently ap-
parent from the
merest glance at
the titles of one or
two of the novelties
now in active pre-
paration.
The Old Man of
the Sea and the
Ancient Mariner in the Enchanted Lighthouse of the Frozen Pole; or, Harlequin
Paul Jones and the Flying Dutchman in chase of the Great Sea Serpent in High
Latitudes, although perhaps at first sight it may look a little lengthy and com-
plicated, seems to promise endless diversion. The same may also be said of The
Goblin Gnome of the Palace of Black Brilliants and the Mottled Mandrake of
the Spangled Glen ; or, the Shah, the Strike, and the School-Board. The con-
cluding tableau of this spectacle, representing the Realms of Radiant Rapture
and the Phantom Sprites of the Gem-bound Coast, is said to surpass in lavish
splendour and boundless ingenuity all antecedent scenic displays. Those who
find an inexhaustible stimulant in fairy legend and
nursery lore will, we have reason to believe, not he dis-
appointed with Harlequin Jack and Jill and St. George
and the Dragon and the Four-and-Twenty Blackbirds;
or, Oberon-Aladdin and the Forty Thieves in the Great
Bed of Ware in the Castle of Otranto.
Many more promising titles might he indicated, but
enough, perhaps, has been said to stimulate a seasonable
curiosity and satisfy the most inordinate expectations.
When we have seen the pieces themselves we will say
more on the subject.
ROB ROY MARRIED.
On the recent occasion of the marriage of John, more
widely known as “ Rob Roy ” Macgregor—(not the
cateran—the canoeist pioneer of canoe exploration, and
founder of the Canoe Club, and, better still, hard-
working member of the London School Board, and
staunch and generous friend of the Shoeblack Brigade
and the training-ship boys), his club-fellows—we are
informed by the Daily News—have presented him with
a claret jug and goblet with an inscription “in recogni-
tion of his efforts to improve canoes, promote canoeing,
and unite canoeists.”
Mr. Macgregor’s services to the great canoe-cause are
all very well, but his canoeing comrades would do well
to remember that his best credit has been won not “ by
paddling his own canoe,” hut by puilling a labouring oar
among the skulls engaged in getting way on the good
ship “Education.” In honour of his services in that
ship, Punch is glad to sing :—
Hymen’s Happiest Voyage to you,
Rob Roy Macgregor, 0 !
Ne’er may tide or breeze undue
From its fair way sideways slue
Your connubial canoe,
Rob Roy Macgregor, 0 !
CERTAINLY EDUCATE GIRLS.
Dear Mr. Punch,
Your Correspondent, Angelina, last week gave you a
fieasant but frivolous conversation, in support of her view that no
ugh education is wanted by a girl, whose business it is to make
herself pleasant, and to get married.
I concede the latter proposition, but there are men who are not
to be won by twaddle and an incessant use of the word “ awful.” I
beg leave to subjoin a report of the conversation that led to my en-
gagement, and 1 am,
Yours affectionately,
' Vanessa.
Scene—Dinner. A large Party.
Cadenus has taken Vanessa down, having been introduced to her ten
minutes previously. They sit.
Cadenus. You have plenty of room, I hope ? (Sotto voce.) We are
rather closely packed.
Vanessa. Plenty, thanks. (Examines menu.) Who was it said,
“ What a number of things there are here that I do not want ” ?
Cadenus.
“ Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long.”
But we are going to have a long dinner, anyhow. However, I am
the gainer.
Vanessa. Why?
Cadenus. “ Situated as I am,” as Mrs. German Reed sings.
Vanessa. Please don’t begin to be civil, especially before you
know whether you are a gainer or not.
Cadenus. One of the old dramatists makes a young lady say—
“ Give me him dare love
At first encounter.”
Vanessa. Very likely. You know we mustn’t read the old
dramatists. But I like the word encounter—it takes fighting for
granted.
Cadenus. Our natural state is one of war, says Hobbes of
Malmesbury.
Vanessa. But there is a classical condemnation— I’m afraid I
was going to say curse—upon anybody who quarrels at meals.
Cadenus. Tell me where that occurs.
Vanessa. Ah! You think I don’t know. Well, I won’t quote,
but wasn’t there a Miss Hippodamia, at whose marriage-
Cadenus. The Centaurs and the Lapithse took too much wine. I
am glad to find that you care about old stories.
Vanessa. Surely that is better reading than our modern wedding
descriptions—how the bride looked lovely in lace and silver, and
each of the bridesmaids had a beautiful locket, with her monogram.
Cadenus.
“ On her white breast a sparkling gaud she wore,
Which Jews might guess cost, bleth me, four-pound-four.”
Vanessa. Don’t! I hate parodies. And I do love Pope. Don’t
you think that the editor of the grand new edition is very hard upon
him ? .
Cadenus. Nobody can be too hard upon anybody. It is a wicked
world, and the fewer people we praise the better.
Vanessa. There is an excellent paper in the Spectator which
advises us to praise people, on the chance of then’ being stimulated
to deserve the good opinion they think we have formed of them.
Cadenus. Very well remembered. But it is of no use lauding
folks who have gone ad majores.
Vanessa. And yet, de mortals-
Cadenus. Nil nisi verum.
Vanessa. You would not get your living by writing epitaphs, 1
think.
Cadenus. Derivation of “ epitaph ? ”
Vanessa. Epi upon, taphos, a tomb. Do you take me for a charity
girl, or a writer of modern novels ? Or is this a competitive
examination ?
Cadenus (tenderly and with intense meaning). No, there is no
competition ?
Vanessa. I rather fancied you not the sort of person who needs to
be told a thing twice.
Cadenus. Bis repetita placebit, when some people say it.
Vanessa. Well turned. And as that darling girl, Miss, in
Polite Conversation, says, “ Another turn, and I should have turned
away from you.”
Cadenus. She says no such thing, and you know it. Yes, Miss
is a darling, and didn’t she want her ears boxed ?
Vanessa. Not half so much as those dreadful matrons. Mind, 1
read a copy which a friend had edited, with great blottings out, but
the awful vulgarity of the women is inextinguishable. By the
way, did Dean Swiet write the Last Years of Queen Anne, or
not ?
Cadenus. I am ashamed to say I never considered the question.
But Mr. Disraeli’s father was a rare authority, and if he told his
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[December 13, 1873.
COMING EVENTS.
delightful antici-
pation, both old
and young are
looking forward to
Boxing Night —
to the Christmas
Pantomimes and
the Extravaganzas
which immemorial
custom and the
wisdom of our an-
cestors have for
ages associated
with that time-
honoured evening.
That a treat of no
ordinary descrip-
tion is in store for
us this year will
be sufficiently ap-
parent from the
merest glance at
the titles of one or
two of the novelties
now in active pre-
paration.
The Old Man of
the Sea and the
Ancient Mariner in the Enchanted Lighthouse of the Frozen Pole; or, Harlequin
Paul Jones and the Flying Dutchman in chase of the Great Sea Serpent in High
Latitudes, although perhaps at first sight it may look a little lengthy and com-
plicated, seems to promise endless diversion. The same may also be said of The
Goblin Gnome of the Palace of Black Brilliants and the Mottled Mandrake of
the Spangled Glen ; or, the Shah, the Strike, and the School-Board. The con-
cluding tableau of this spectacle, representing the Realms of Radiant Rapture
and the Phantom Sprites of the Gem-bound Coast, is said to surpass in lavish
splendour and boundless ingenuity all antecedent scenic displays. Those who
find an inexhaustible stimulant in fairy legend and
nursery lore will, we have reason to believe, not he dis-
appointed with Harlequin Jack and Jill and St. George
and the Dragon and the Four-and-Twenty Blackbirds;
or, Oberon-Aladdin and the Forty Thieves in the Great
Bed of Ware in the Castle of Otranto.
Many more promising titles might he indicated, but
enough, perhaps, has been said to stimulate a seasonable
curiosity and satisfy the most inordinate expectations.
When we have seen the pieces themselves we will say
more on the subject.
ROB ROY MARRIED.
On the recent occasion of the marriage of John, more
widely known as “ Rob Roy ” Macgregor—(not the
cateran—the canoeist pioneer of canoe exploration, and
founder of the Canoe Club, and, better still, hard-
working member of the London School Board, and
staunch and generous friend of the Shoeblack Brigade
and the training-ship boys), his club-fellows—we are
informed by the Daily News—have presented him with
a claret jug and goblet with an inscription “in recogni-
tion of his efforts to improve canoes, promote canoeing,
and unite canoeists.”
Mr. Macgregor’s services to the great canoe-cause are
all very well, but his canoeing comrades would do well
to remember that his best credit has been won not “ by
paddling his own canoe,” hut by puilling a labouring oar
among the skulls engaged in getting way on the good
ship “Education.” In honour of his services in that
ship, Punch is glad to sing :—
Hymen’s Happiest Voyage to you,
Rob Roy Macgregor, 0 !
Ne’er may tide or breeze undue
From its fair way sideways slue
Your connubial canoe,
Rob Roy Macgregor, 0 !
CERTAINLY EDUCATE GIRLS.
Dear Mr. Punch,
Your Correspondent, Angelina, last week gave you a
fieasant but frivolous conversation, in support of her view that no
ugh education is wanted by a girl, whose business it is to make
herself pleasant, and to get married.
I concede the latter proposition, but there are men who are not
to be won by twaddle and an incessant use of the word “ awful.” I
beg leave to subjoin a report of the conversation that led to my en-
gagement, and 1 am,
Yours affectionately,
' Vanessa.
Scene—Dinner. A large Party.
Cadenus has taken Vanessa down, having been introduced to her ten
minutes previously. They sit.
Cadenus. You have plenty of room, I hope ? (Sotto voce.) We are
rather closely packed.
Vanessa. Plenty, thanks. (Examines menu.) Who was it said,
“ What a number of things there are here that I do not want ” ?
Cadenus.
“ Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long.”
But we are going to have a long dinner, anyhow. However, I am
the gainer.
Vanessa. Why?
Cadenus. “ Situated as I am,” as Mrs. German Reed sings.
Vanessa. Please don’t begin to be civil, especially before you
know whether you are a gainer or not.
Cadenus. One of the old dramatists makes a young lady say—
“ Give me him dare love
At first encounter.”
Vanessa. Very likely. You know we mustn’t read the old
dramatists. But I like the word encounter—it takes fighting for
granted.
Cadenus. Our natural state is one of war, says Hobbes of
Malmesbury.
Vanessa. But there is a classical condemnation— I’m afraid I
was going to say curse—upon anybody who quarrels at meals.
Cadenus. Tell me where that occurs.
Vanessa. Ah! You think I don’t know. Well, I won’t quote,
but wasn’t there a Miss Hippodamia, at whose marriage-
Cadenus. The Centaurs and the Lapithse took too much wine. I
am glad to find that you care about old stories.
Vanessa. Surely that is better reading than our modern wedding
descriptions—how the bride looked lovely in lace and silver, and
each of the bridesmaids had a beautiful locket, with her monogram.
Cadenus.
“ On her white breast a sparkling gaud she wore,
Which Jews might guess cost, bleth me, four-pound-four.”
Vanessa. Don’t! I hate parodies. And I do love Pope. Don’t
you think that the editor of the grand new edition is very hard upon
him ? .
Cadenus. Nobody can be too hard upon anybody. It is a wicked
world, and the fewer people we praise the better.
Vanessa. There is an excellent paper in the Spectator which
advises us to praise people, on the chance of then’ being stimulated
to deserve the good opinion they think we have formed of them.
Cadenus. Very well remembered. But it is of no use lauding
folks who have gone ad majores.
Vanessa. And yet, de mortals-
Cadenus. Nil nisi verum.
Vanessa. You would not get your living by writing epitaphs, 1
think.
Cadenus. Derivation of “ epitaph ? ”
Vanessa. Epi upon, taphos, a tomb. Do you take me for a charity
girl, or a writer of modern novels ? Or is this a competitive
examination ?
Cadenus (tenderly and with intense meaning). No, there is no
competition ?
Vanessa. I rather fancied you not the sort of person who needs to
be told a thing twice.
Cadenus. Bis repetita placebit, when some people say it.
Vanessa. Well turned. And as that darling girl, Miss, in
Polite Conversation, says, “ Another turn, and I should have turned
away from you.”
Cadenus. She says no such thing, and you know it. Yes, Miss
is a darling, and didn’t she want her ears boxed ?
Vanessa. Not half so much as those dreadful matrons. Mind, 1
read a copy which a friend had edited, with great blottings out, but
the awful vulgarity of the women is inextinguishable. By the
way, did Dean Swiet write the Last Years of Queen Anne, or
not ?
Cadenus. I am ashamed to say I never considered the question.
But Mr. Disraeli’s father was a rare authority, and if he told his