Punch (66.1874)

126

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[March 21, 1874.

MYSTERY AND
MUSIC.

The art of musical
composition is certainly
a wonderful art, and
the art of musical criti-
cism is an art whioh is
still more wonderful.
To people unacquainted
with the mysteries of
musical slangography,
phrases such as “resolu-
tion of a discord,” “con-
trapuntal progress,” or
“intrusion of the domi-
nant,” convey about as
much as the inscriptions
in Chinese on rare old
Nankin vases. Even
when more ordinary
language is employed, it
is often vastly difficult to
ferret out its meaning.
Here, for instance, is a
sentence lately published
on a piece of music by
Mozart

“ The lovely undulating
movement of the melody
bears witness to the ex-
tremely happy mood of the
great Master.”

We really have no
notion what constitutes
in music an undulating
movement; nor does the
epithet of “lovely” in
any way enlighten us.
Movements which are
undulating are by no
means always lovely;
for instance, Dr. John-
son used to undulate, or
roll himself about, but
his movements, we are
told, _ were decidedly
ungainly. The rolling
of a steamboat is another
not uncommon kind of
undulating movement,
and one by no means
likely to excite a happy
mood in a musician. If
Mozart had ever suf-
fered from a movement
of this sort, it is pro-
bable that the melody
suggested to his mind,
would have been a sadly
mournful and by no
means extremely happy
one.

CANN

Brighton and Rome.

The _ Post announces
that Brighton is just now
particularly full • the
Aquarium continuing to
be a great attraction.
The Aquarium at Brigh-
ton, which is full of
fishes, may be compared
to that ecclesiastical con-
federacy which calls its
Chief “ the Fisherman,”
and, moreover, as Ultra-
montanism everywhere
constitutes an imperium
in imperio, so does the
Brighton Aquarium form
a watering-place within
a watering-place.

The Young Lady in high life, who was declared last week to have “devoured her
little Baby Boy with kisses,” has, at the present hour of writing, as we hear, not been
arrested for this hideous act of cannibalism. But there are full-grown babies, such as
the one in his own prime cut, whom even Mr. Punch would like to devour—with
kisses! (0 you naughty old Punchy-wunchy !)

SONGS FOR SPRING.

LONDON’S PRIDE.

Certain well-known
public objects in our
leading thoroughfares
are understood to have
affected the Duchess of
Edinburgh on the day
of the Royal March in a
most remarkable man-
ner. The pedestals and
columns, with their con-
tents, in Waterloo Place
and Cockspur Street
wrought in Her Royal
Highness a sensation to
which she had hitherto
been a stranger; but
when she beheld the
equestrian and martial
effigies that Charing
Cross and Trafalgar
Square had to reveal,
her feelings knew no
bounds. She begged the
Duke to procure her
photographs of all the
beautiful works of Art
she had seen that day
■—a commission which
he assured her there
would not be the slight-
est difficulty in execut-
ing. Our only regret is
that Hyde Park Corner
and Constitution Hill
were not also in the line
of the procession; but,
perhaps, it was as well
to leave one or two of our
most striking memorials
for Her Royal High-
ness’s inspection on some
future occasion.

Physic for Coffee.

King Coffee Cax-
caeli having transmit-
ted to Sir Garnet
Wolseley one thousand
ounces of gold as an
instalment of the indem-
nity which he had agreed
to pay, Sir Garnet, we
are told, “sent him a
rough draught of the
Treaty to consider at his
leisure.” His Ashantee
Majesty no doubt found
this draught disagree-
ably bitter. It is to be
hoped that he has now
been sufficiently well
physicked to prevent
him from ever commit-
ting any excess again
which will make him
have to swallow another.

Nothing, we are told, succeeds like success : so we can hardly be surprised that the
success of the new songs, “ There Sits a Bird on yonder Tree,” and “ A Bird Sang in
a Hawthorn Tree," is likely to bring forth a number of successors. Among them, a
little bird informs us, we may include the following,—“ There Hops a Tomtit on an
Old Plum-tree," “A Jackdaw Cawed on a Mistletoe Bough," and ‘‘'‘There Twits a
Swallow on a tall Chimnee : ” all of which will, doubtless, well deserve whatever popu-
larity they may fortunately get.

Indeed, now Spring-time is at hand, it is likely that the music-shops will teem with
songs on subjects founded upon natural history. For instance, we may look for “ The
Grasshopper Chirps in the New-mown Hay," “ See the Cheerful Eanvig Stirring,"
or 11 Hark the Gay Corncrake amid the Green Corn;" and a hundred other jovial
and seasonable songs. Moreover, singers of a sentimental turn may find a mournful
melody in ditties such as these, “ The Blackbird Eats the Early Worm," “ ’ Twas a
Hairy Caterpillar on a red, red Rose," and, finally, a song to be warbled with deep
pathos, “ The Snail Consumes my Cabbage Sweet!"

Ancient and Modern.

A paper on “The Re-
treat of the Ten Thou-
sand” has lately been
read at one of our
Scientific Institutions.
An event of considerable
historic importance, all
will admit; but, perhaps,
at the present moment,
the London West-Endi-
ans feel a still keener in-
terest in the Return of the
Upper Ten Thousand.