DOI issue:
July 17, 1880
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17764#0030
PUNCH, OB THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [Jdly 17, 1880.
‘ DONKEYS HAVE EARS.”
Emily (playing at Lawn-Tennis with the new Curate). “ What’s the Game now, Me. Miniver?” Curate. “Forty—Love,”
Irreverent Gardener (overhearing). “ Did y’ever hear such Imperence ! ‘ Love,’ indeed ! And him not been in the Parish
above a Week ! Just like them Parsons ! ”
property was for sale, and that as there was no good-will in the
place, the fixtures would alone be parted with at a valuation,
John Bounce had kept his word to Horleena; but the Penny
Prometheus attacked him every morning for a month with, articles,
letters, and paragraphs, headed, “ Mr. Bounce Again!” until
blackened as he was, bankruptcy stared him in the face, and nothing
could save him except white-washing; and how was that to be
done F Poor Bounce !
80 far Mrs. Overwayte’s plan had prospered ; Bounce had been
snubbed by Morleena; her father still retained the Mastership of
Deedler’s Trust, with his other appointments ; but her triumph was
not unclouded—the Archbeacon would have to pay his share of the
fees to Sir Isaac ; and if Morleena should change her mind, and
take pity on Bounce, the whole battle would have to be fought over j
again, and on a field very disadvantageous to her movements,
“ What is to be done, my dear ? ” asked the Archbeacon, a3 he !
stood before the glass, in his Doctor’s University bed-gown and hood,
twiddling the tassel of his College cap, previous to putting out
the night-light.
“ Done! You Arch-Noodle ? ” replied his spouse, from under the
bed-clothes; “what’s to be done? Why the shoulder of mutton
and baked potatoes for to-morrow’s dinner! ”
“I don’t quite understand, my dear,” said the Archbeacon,
pausing with the extinguisher.
“ Butldo, you Arch-Noddy!” returned the Lady, contemptuously.
“ What’s necessary must be done. Dinner’s necessary; the shoulder
of mutton will be hot to-morrow: when it is cold, we can offer it to
Morleena, if she dares to encourage that Bounce ! ”
“I see,” said the Archbeacon, as he extinguished the light,
“As well as you ever will in the dark,” answered his spouse.
“ Morleena must be married to a friend of ours, who will pay some
share of Sir Isaac’s charges; and, above all, Morleena mustn’t
accept anyone recommended by the Bishop, or Mrs. Dowdie.”
“ Why not, my dearF”. asked the Archbeacon,_ who was now
performing that act of cannibalism/known as “ tucking himself in,”
before dropping off to sleep. But his question met with no verbal
response, only a gentle snore, and a quiet, but vigorous kick, which
caused Dr. Overwayte to congratulate himself on the strength of
his furious tucking in.
“ Recommended by the Bishop, and Mrs. Dowdie! ” murmured
the Arehbeacon to himself; “ what the deuce does she mean F ”
Then, after intoning his first snore, he joined Mrs. Overwayte
in her nocturne. My readers will gather from this that during
Mr. Simpler’s and Mr. Bounce’s absence, some one had been re-
commended by Mrs. Dowdie as a candidate for Morleena’s hand.
Who was it F Fair Ladies, I will not deprive you of the pleasing
information one second longer than I can help. Let us meet and
gossip over it in my next chapter.
EIGHT AND WBONG AT WIMBLEDON, 1880.
(Extracts from a Couple of Diaries.)
Lieutenant Lazyboy’s Becord. (The Wrono Way.)
Monday.—Lounged down in the afternoon. Found that my tent
had not been planked over. Could not stand that! Came back to
Town and dined at the Club.
Tuesday.—Having nothing better to do, thought I would .look in
at Wimbledon. The carpet I had ordered for my tent not soft
enough. Utterly impossible to remain. Eeturned to Town, and
enjoyed a comfortable night’s rest.
Wednesday.—Bothered by the Butterfly girls to take them to see
the Camp. So had to doit. Horrid nuisance. Got a headache from
the firing, and in opening a gate spoiled a pair of lavender kid gloves.
Thursday.—Nice day, so thought I would go to the Campv Had
a little dinner in my tent. Rather pleased that I was not obliged to
follow the other fellows up to Town. Slept in my tent, after throw-
ing the empty champagne bottles into the open.
Friday.—Dreadful night. All sorts of trumpet-oalls. Too ill to
move. Spent the day in retirement. The salmon at yesterday’s
dinner has given me an awful headache.
‘ DONKEYS HAVE EARS.”
Emily (playing at Lawn-Tennis with the new Curate). “ What’s the Game now, Me. Miniver?” Curate. “Forty—Love,”
Irreverent Gardener (overhearing). “ Did y’ever hear such Imperence ! ‘ Love,’ indeed ! And him not been in the Parish
above a Week ! Just like them Parsons ! ”
property was for sale, and that as there was no good-will in the
place, the fixtures would alone be parted with at a valuation,
John Bounce had kept his word to Horleena; but the Penny
Prometheus attacked him every morning for a month with, articles,
letters, and paragraphs, headed, “ Mr. Bounce Again!” until
blackened as he was, bankruptcy stared him in the face, and nothing
could save him except white-washing; and how was that to be
done F Poor Bounce !
80 far Mrs. Overwayte’s plan had prospered ; Bounce had been
snubbed by Morleena; her father still retained the Mastership of
Deedler’s Trust, with his other appointments ; but her triumph was
not unclouded—the Archbeacon would have to pay his share of the
fees to Sir Isaac ; and if Morleena should change her mind, and
take pity on Bounce, the whole battle would have to be fought over j
again, and on a field very disadvantageous to her movements,
“ What is to be done, my dear ? ” asked the Archbeacon, a3 he !
stood before the glass, in his Doctor’s University bed-gown and hood,
twiddling the tassel of his College cap, previous to putting out
the night-light.
“ Done! You Arch-Noodle ? ” replied his spouse, from under the
bed-clothes; “what’s to be done? Why the shoulder of mutton
and baked potatoes for to-morrow’s dinner! ”
“I don’t quite understand, my dear,” said the Archbeacon,
pausing with the extinguisher.
“ Butldo, you Arch-Noddy!” returned the Lady, contemptuously.
“ What’s necessary must be done. Dinner’s necessary; the shoulder
of mutton will be hot to-morrow: when it is cold, we can offer it to
Morleena, if she dares to encourage that Bounce ! ”
“I see,” said the Archbeacon, as he extinguished the light,
“As well as you ever will in the dark,” answered his spouse.
“ Morleena must be married to a friend of ours, who will pay some
share of Sir Isaac’s charges; and, above all, Morleena mustn’t
accept anyone recommended by the Bishop, or Mrs. Dowdie.”
“ Why not, my dearF”. asked the Archbeacon,_ who was now
performing that act of cannibalism/known as “ tucking himself in,”
before dropping off to sleep. But his question met with no verbal
response, only a gentle snore, and a quiet, but vigorous kick, which
caused Dr. Overwayte to congratulate himself on the strength of
his furious tucking in.
“ Recommended by the Bishop, and Mrs. Dowdie! ” murmured
the Arehbeacon to himself; “ what the deuce does she mean F ”
Then, after intoning his first snore, he joined Mrs. Overwayte
in her nocturne. My readers will gather from this that during
Mr. Simpler’s and Mr. Bounce’s absence, some one had been re-
commended by Mrs. Dowdie as a candidate for Morleena’s hand.
Who was it F Fair Ladies, I will not deprive you of the pleasing
information one second longer than I can help. Let us meet and
gossip over it in my next chapter.
EIGHT AND WBONG AT WIMBLEDON, 1880.
(Extracts from a Couple of Diaries.)
Lieutenant Lazyboy’s Becord. (The Wrono Way.)
Monday.—Lounged down in the afternoon. Found that my tent
had not been planked over. Could not stand that! Came back to
Town and dined at the Club.
Tuesday.—Having nothing better to do, thought I would .look in
at Wimbledon. The carpet I had ordered for my tent not soft
enough. Utterly impossible to remain. Eeturned to Town, and
enjoyed a comfortable night’s rest.
Wednesday.—Bothered by the Butterfly girls to take them to see
the Camp. So had to doit. Horrid nuisance. Got a headache from
the firing, and in opening a gate spoiled a pair of lavender kid gloves.
Thursday.—Nice day, so thought I would go to the Campv Had
a little dinner in my tent. Rather pleased that I was not obliged to
follow the other fellows up to Town. Slept in my tent, after throw-
ing the empty champagne bottles into the open.
Friday.—Dreadful night. All sorts of trumpet-oalls. Too ill to
move. Spent the day in retirement. The salmon at yesterday’s
dinner has given me an awful headache.