DOI issue:
December 7, 1878
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17733#0259
December 7, 1878.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
255
TOYS AND THEIR TEACHING.
Lady Customer. " My little Boy wishes for a Noah's Ark. Have you one?"
Toyman. " No, M'uji, no. "We've given up keeping Noah's Harks since the School Boards come in. They was
considered too denominational, M'um ! "
ill-bred, I go straight up to the face I know, and say heartily, " Ah!
how are you ?" He is in the middle of a discussion on the latest
news of the day with a tall, hazy-eyed man, with an eye-glass that
he can't fix for more than a second at a time, and whose expression
is something so between a laugh and a cry, as to convey the idea of
his having taken his wine before dinner, instead of having that
pleasure to come.
The gentleman, whom I recognise, stares at me, then exclaims,
"Ah! now are you!" in a surprised way, implying that, had
politeness permitted, he would have added, And who the deuce are
you?"
Then follows the usual stupid pause, and the usual nervous laugh.
We are both trying to remember where we saw each other last, and
what we know of one another, if anything.
We discover, to our mutual relief, that there is no deception ; that
we did meet at the Shalluses, about a year or so ago; which
leads us to inquire of one another what has become of the Shal-
luses, as if they'd been hanged, or sold up, or transported in the
mean time. Neither of us knows what has become of the Shal-
luses ; and here the conversation would come to a standstill, but
for the hazy-eyed man, who evidently resents my interruption, and
attracts my acquaintance's attention with, " By the way, ^Hosh-
ford"—ah! that's his name, Hoshford, of course—"I was going
to ask just now,"—which implies that he would have asked him, if
I hadn't come up, and interrupted,—"whether you ever got a satis-
factory reply from the Serjeant about the terms of the lease ? "
This is so pointed a hint, as to their conversation up to the moment
I had "intervened "—like a Queen's Proctor—having been peculiarly
private and confidential, that I oannot avoid feeling myse If " not m
it," and so turn away, hoping either that Josslyn will introduce
me to some one, or that dinner will be announced, or that there is a
photograph-book that I can examine.
I survey the company. Another face I recognise—a man whom
I've seen, generally at luncheon-time, at the Club for years ; never
ascertained his name, and never seen him speaking to any one. I
remember having been informed that this was a Country Member,
who lived some distance from town, and who apparently only came
up at luncheon-time, and then went back again. I doubted it
then; now, I believe it to be true. He advances towards me, and
observes, cheerfully, "I think we ought to know one another!"
I respond to the sentiment with much cordiality. At the same
time, I wonder if, after this, we shall do more than bow distantly
for the remainder of our lives, except when on another similar
occasion bringing us again together, we shall make the same remark.
I ask him if he knows many people here, which question implying
that he doesn't, rather depreciates the value of his friendly greet-
ing. He replies, "No; not everybody."
At this moment Josslyn Dyke comes up to me, and with an air of
the deepest mystery, says, "I want you to take Mrs. Lawleigh
Byrne in to dinner."
Of course I reply, "that nothing I could possibly have im-
agined would give me greater pleasure than to take Mrs. Lawleigh
Byrne in to dinner," and I look round to see which is Mrs. Lawleigh
Byrne. There are two old Ladies by the fire chatting together;
one with a conspicuously false brown front, and the other with a
most festive cap; and I do hope that neither of these is Mrs. Law-
leigh Byrne.
Josslyn Dyke relieves my mind by saying, sadly—he generally
speaks sadly as though he were reluctantly fulfilling some painful
duty—
" You know her, don't you ? "
"No, I don't think-.»
He murmurs in my ear with melancholy emphasis,
" Great beauty. Everybody about here been going mad after her.
Widow. Very rich. Very old county family. Come! "
I am overawed by this description, and almost begin to wish that
the introduction had been, after all, to one of those two old Ladies
by the fire,—even to the one in the festive cap.
I delay him for a moment to ask who all the people are. _ Josslyn
explains them to me as if they were catalogued figures in a wax-
work exhibition. " That old Gentleman there, talking to Mrs.
Lawleigh Byrne, is Mr. Rendlesham of Pikley—very old county
255
TOYS AND THEIR TEACHING.
Lady Customer. " My little Boy wishes for a Noah's Ark. Have you one?"
Toyman. " No, M'uji, no. "We've given up keeping Noah's Harks since the School Boards come in. They was
considered too denominational, M'um ! "
ill-bred, I go straight up to the face I know, and say heartily, " Ah!
how are you ?" He is in the middle of a discussion on the latest
news of the day with a tall, hazy-eyed man, with an eye-glass that
he can't fix for more than a second at a time, and whose expression
is something so between a laugh and a cry, as to convey the idea of
his having taken his wine before dinner, instead of having that
pleasure to come.
The gentleman, whom I recognise, stares at me, then exclaims,
"Ah! now are you!" in a surprised way, implying that, had
politeness permitted, he would have added, And who the deuce are
you?"
Then follows the usual stupid pause, and the usual nervous laugh.
We are both trying to remember where we saw each other last, and
what we know of one another, if anything.
We discover, to our mutual relief, that there is no deception ; that
we did meet at the Shalluses, about a year or so ago; which
leads us to inquire of one another what has become of the Shal-
luses, as if they'd been hanged, or sold up, or transported in the
mean time. Neither of us knows what has become of the Shal-
luses ; and here the conversation would come to a standstill, but
for the hazy-eyed man, who evidently resents my interruption, and
attracts my acquaintance's attention with, " By the way, ^Hosh-
ford"—ah! that's his name, Hoshford, of course—"I was going
to ask just now,"—which implies that he would have asked him, if
I hadn't come up, and interrupted,—"whether you ever got a satis-
factory reply from the Serjeant about the terms of the lease ? "
This is so pointed a hint, as to their conversation up to the moment
I had "intervened "—like a Queen's Proctor—having been peculiarly
private and confidential, that I oannot avoid feeling myse If " not m
it," and so turn away, hoping either that Josslyn will introduce
me to some one, or that dinner will be announced, or that there is a
photograph-book that I can examine.
I survey the company. Another face I recognise—a man whom
I've seen, generally at luncheon-time, at the Club for years ; never
ascertained his name, and never seen him speaking to any one. I
remember having been informed that this was a Country Member,
who lived some distance from town, and who apparently only came
up at luncheon-time, and then went back again. I doubted it
then; now, I believe it to be true. He advances towards me, and
observes, cheerfully, "I think we ought to know one another!"
I respond to the sentiment with much cordiality. At the same
time, I wonder if, after this, we shall do more than bow distantly
for the remainder of our lives, except when on another similar
occasion bringing us again together, we shall make the same remark.
I ask him if he knows many people here, which question implying
that he doesn't, rather depreciates the value of his friendly greet-
ing. He replies, "No; not everybody."
At this moment Josslyn Dyke comes up to me, and with an air of
the deepest mystery, says, "I want you to take Mrs. Lawleigh
Byrne in to dinner."
Of course I reply, "that nothing I could possibly have im-
agined would give me greater pleasure than to take Mrs. Lawleigh
Byrne in to dinner," and I look round to see which is Mrs. Lawleigh
Byrne. There are two old Ladies by the fire chatting together;
one with a conspicuously false brown front, and the other with a
most festive cap; and I do hope that neither of these is Mrs. Law-
leigh Byrne.
Josslyn Dyke relieves my mind by saying, sadly—he generally
speaks sadly as though he were reluctantly fulfilling some painful
duty—
" You know her, don't you ? "
"No, I don't think-.»
He murmurs in my ear with melancholy emphasis,
" Great beauty. Everybody about here been going mad after her.
Widow. Very rich. Very old county family. Come! "
I am overawed by this description, and almost begin to wish that
the introduction had been, after all, to one of those two old Ladies
by the fire,—even to the one in the festive cap.
I delay him for a moment to ask who all the people are. _ Josslyn
explains them to me as if they were catalogued figures in a wax-
work exhibition. " That old Gentleman there, talking to Mrs.
Lawleigh Byrne, is Mr. Rendlesham of Pikley—very old county