Punch (69.1875)

September 4, 1875.]

PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

87

FINE GROUP OF FUNGI.

Autumn is the special season for Funeri, and, at that very time,
fungoid growths appear on the heads of English travellers, as their
terrestrial congeners do in onr woods and fields. The latter have
heen classified. The former still await their Bebkeley. Suppose

Mr. Punch attempted to supply the desideratum. Here, named
and numbered, is a group of specimens which were lately met with,
mostly on board a steamer between Folkestone and Boulogne, on the
heads of Clergymen of the Church of England :—

I. Marasmius clericalis. II. Coprinus curatorius. III. Clitopilus
ricarius. IV. Cortinarius incumbens. V. Pleuropus episcopalis.
VI. Russula decanalis. VII. Amanita rectoria. VIII. Hygrophorus
prebendarius. IX. and X. Clitocybe archidiaconalis.

It is, perhaps, as well to state that no Fungi of the foregoing

species are esculent. Annually, at this time of year, many people
kill themselves through eating poisonous toadstools by mistake for
mushrooms. Such persons may well be supposed quite capable of
trying to eat any of the things above delineated that may fall in
their way.

OUT OF TOWN.

An Urban Eclogue.

Scene—" The sweet shady side of Pall Mall" Enter Damon,
meeting Pythias.

Pythias (amazedly). Not yet out of Town?

Damon (peevishly). You're the fool of a phrase !

My good friend, there is no " Out of Town " in these days.
Pythias. What, Damon turned cynic? Then Stocks must be
down!

Or is it that She, or the " Dragon " doth frown ?
Damon. You miss with both barrels. They've "flitted" to
Brighton;
I follow.

Pythias. "What, called by the horn of old Triton,
And Cupid's alarum ?

Damon. Pooh! Fiddle-de-dee !

Your only sea-god now is Proteus, and he
Sways fashions, not floods; while for conquering Cupid,
Midst sand-shoes and shrimps, that young god seems half stupid.

Pythias. Hipped! hipped! my dear Damon ! Tell Pythias the
reason.

Damon. Fact is, I am fagged with the frets of the season,

And pine for a taste of the restful and rustic,

My prospect of which now appears nubibustic.
Pythias. With sweet Amaexilis to toy in the shade

Of-

Damon. A Small silken circlet, on Pier or Parade!
Pythias. With Pyeeha to-

Damon. Potter about on the sands,

Or lend ear to the wearisome bray of the bands!

Pythias. With a latter-day Ltdia, lovelier than she

Who could charm the Venusian-

Damon. Stare at the sea!

Pooh, pooh 1 my dear Pythias, poetry, even

So modish as that with which Horace could leaven

The life of old Rome, can have nothing to do

With a Cit's " out of Town " in these days. There are few

Of the freaks of fool-fashion such burdensome slavery

As this annual worship of Neptune.
Pythias. Your bravery

Stops short at Philippic ; pray why don't you lead

A sublime insurrection ?
Damon. I should not succeed.

Your Cit could not live far from pavement and kerb; he,

Inverting the pleasant old rule, rus in urbe,

Takes Town with him everywhere. Nature's best scenes

He invades with his shops and his bathing-machines;

With his family gods in a flock settles down,

And then calls the whole thing—save the mark!—" out of Town.''

0, for true sylvan solitude 1
Pythias. That is, d deux

With books, "bitter," and—baths, eh, as well as beau yeux ?
Damon. Well, y-e-esl

Pythias. Ah, my very dear Damon, I see

That your hatred of Town is a thing of degree.
The odiprofanum may move you, but, think :
We can't each have a bower on a waterfall's brink,
With a Pyeeha to pet, with no tourists to throng,
And a dinner-bell sweet as a nightingale's song.
Poor gregarious man—though you 're dreadfully down
On his foibles—is lost when he's quite " out of Town " !

[Exeunt Clubwards.

vol. lxix.