DOI issue:
July 10, 1880
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17764#0014
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[July 10, 1830.
FLORA AND FASHION.
By an Old-Fashioned Floiver-Worshipping Philistine.
“ Flowers are fashionable just now.”—Daily News.
JPST now ! Smart Scribe, and were they not so ever
Since the first rose-leaves fell on the first river,
In distant Aidenn ?
Enough to put a Poet in a passion,
To think of Flora as a thrall to Eashion,
Like any modish maiden!
J uly is with us, her green lap full laden
W ith old-world flowers
(A little colour-dimmed by drenching showers),
And, though msthetic prigs turn up their noses
At things so commonplace as Cabbage roses,
Larkspurs, and Lilies,
Thank Heaven, we ’re not yet swayed by sunipks and sillies,
And their vague talk of amaranth, rue, and moly,
So wholly
That we ’re too proud to take a simple pleasure
In the old cottage garden’s common treasure.
Flowers fashionable now ? Ah! very probable.
Flora is much beholden to Le Follet !
And yet ’tis rather jolly
To think her ancient treasuries are not robbable,
That Fashion, smile or frown she on the flowers,
Can’t change the cut or trim in fields and bowers ;
Or rule fair May as she hath ruled Mayfair,
The rose’s petal petticoats make spare,
As eel-skin dresses,
Or puff the lily-skirts with crinoline,
Of aim to dingy bi’onze the grass’s green,
Or geometricise the honeysuckle.
Wherefore one blesses
The kindly fates that, though Society truckle
To the queer whims of modish mutability,
Nature knows nothing of such poor servility.
None of the parrot-clique's aesthetic crazes
Affect the secular buttercups and daisies ;
The ecstasy of the Intense that fills
Dolldom’s weak heart moves not the daffodils;
No High Art prank
Will make the violet pallid, gawky, lank.
’Ti3 doubtless true,—teste the smart Scribe’s comment,
That, for the moment,
Fashion for Flora feigns a passing passion,
But Flora follows not the lead of Fashion!
Good Omen.
The telegrams announced last week that, on the Khedive’s
affairs—
“ The British Government has notified its acquiescence in the appointment
of Mr. Alonzo Money as English Member of the Caisse of Public Debt.”
This is a good omen for the Khedive. A first instalment of
English Money. There’s only one difficulty, this Money can’t be
changed without the consent of the British Government, and when
changed this Money will be lost. The Khedive was delighted to
hear that, on being asked whether he would accept the post, Mr.
Money replied, “ Pveady, aye Ready!”—an excellent motto for
Money generally.
A Vulgar Error.
The institution of Sunday Schools having attained to its hundredth
year, and been therefore celebrated, and had its celebration reported,
as that of the “ Sunday School Centenary ’’—this last word not being
understanded of the people as generally as their friends would wish
—has greatly exercised some persons phonetically but perversely
disposed as to spelling, accustomed to drop their aitches, and not
well up in hagiology. Endowed with inquiring, though unculti-
vated minds, they go about asking whether by the Centenary of
Sunday Schools is meant their Founder; and if lie was a Saint,
whom, meaning to name St. Henry, they call St, Fnnery.
TRULY CONSCIENTIOUS,
“Are you asleep, Dearest! ”
“ Yes, Mamma, and the Doctor particularly said that I needn’t be Waked to take my Medicine.” [Snores.
[July 10, 1830.
FLORA AND FASHION.
By an Old-Fashioned Floiver-Worshipping Philistine.
“ Flowers are fashionable just now.”—Daily News.
JPST now ! Smart Scribe, and were they not so ever
Since the first rose-leaves fell on the first river,
In distant Aidenn ?
Enough to put a Poet in a passion,
To think of Flora as a thrall to Eashion,
Like any modish maiden!
J uly is with us, her green lap full laden
W ith old-world flowers
(A little colour-dimmed by drenching showers),
And, though msthetic prigs turn up their noses
At things so commonplace as Cabbage roses,
Larkspurs, and Lilies,
Thank Heaven, we ’re not yet swayed by sunipks and sillies,
And their vague talk of amaranth, rue, and moly,
So wholly
That we ’re too proud to take a simple pleasure
In the old cottage garden’s common treasure.
Flowers fashionable now ? Ah! very probable.
Flora is much beholden to Le Follet !
And yet ’tis rather jolly
To think her ancient treasuries are not robbable,
That Fashion, smile or frown she on the flowers,
Can’t change the cut or trim in fields and bowers ;
Or rule fair May as she hath ruled Mayfair,
The rose’s petal petticoats make spare,
As eel-skin dresses,
Or puff the lily-skirts with crinoline,
Of aim to dingy bi’onze the grass’s green,
Or geometricise the honeysuckle.
Wherefore one blesses
The kindly fates that, though Society truckle
To the queer whims of modish mutability,
Nature knows nothing of such poor servility.
None of the parrot-clique's aesthetic crazes
Affect the secular buttercups and daisies ;
The ecstasy of the Intense that fills
Dolldom’s weak heart moves not the daffodils;
No High Art prank
Will make the violet pallid, gawky, lank.
’Ti3 doubtless true,—teste the smart Scribe’s comment,
That, for the moment,
Fashion for Flora feigns a passing passion,
But Flora follows not the lead of Fashion!
Good Omen.
The telegrams announced last week that, on the Khedive’s
affairs—
“ The British Government has notified its acquiescence in the appointment
of Mr. Alonzo Money as English Member of the Caisse of Public Debt.”
This is a good omen for the Khedive. A first instalment of
English Money. There’s only one difficulty, this Money can’t be
changed without the consent of the British Government, and when
changed this Money will be lost. The Khedive was delighted to
hear that, on being asked whether he would accept the post, Mr.
Money replied, “ Pveady, aye Ready!”—an excellent motto for
Money generally.
A Vulgar Error.
The institution of Sunday Schools having attained to its hundredth
year, and been therefore celebrated, and had its celebration reported,
as that of the “ Sunday School Centenary ’’—this last word not being
understanded of the people as generally as their friends would wish
—has greatly exercised some persons phonetically but perversely
disposed as to spelling, accustomed to drop their aitches, and not
well up in hagiology. Endowed with inquiring, though unculti-
vated minds, they go about asking whether by the Centenary of
Sunday Schools is meant their Founder; and if lie was a Saint,
whom, meaning to name St. Henry, they call St, Fnnery.
TRULY CONSCIENTIOUS,
“Are you asleep, Dearest! ”
“ Yes, Mamma, and the Doctor particularly said that I needn’t be Waked to take my Medicine.” [Snores.