DOI issue:
January 1, 1881
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17764#0317
310
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[January 1, 1881.
WHEN WE WERE BOYS TOGETHER ! ”
Uncle Robin {looking at Toy-sliop window). “ Ah ! they don’t make such
amusing Toys now as they used to make Sixty or Seventy years ago ; do
they, Dick ? ”
Uncle Richard. “No, bt George ! Nothing like ! ”
MR. PUNCH'S SUMMARY, 1880.
THE YEAR OF “ COMPENSATION FOR DISTURBANCE.’
Disturbance.
Compensation.
The Czar.
Dynamite.
The Livadia.
Sultan.
Naval Demonstration.
Departure of Goschen.
King of Greece.
Patriotic People.
Pleasant Tour, ‘ ‘ patron-
ised by all the Crowned
Heads of Europe.”
Bismarck.
Gambetta.
Bismarck.
Gambetta.
Bismarck.
Gambetta.
King of Italy.
Garibaldi.
Garibaldi’s Marriage.
Duke of Mudford.
Punch.
“K.G.” (Kovent Garden.)
Ruskin.
Everybody.
Letter-writing.
Jones and Birch.
Temple Bar Griffin.
City Funds.
Irving.
Caie«ty.
Lyceum.
Irish Landlord.
Boycotting.
Griffiths’ Yaluation.
Lord Rosebery.
Greeks.
Newmarket.
Fawcett.
Telephone.
P.-O. Savings Bank.
Professional Beauties.
Bills.
Photos.
Police.
Press.
“ C” Division.
Middlesex Magistrates.
Public Opinion.
Self-Complacency.
Lord Penzance.
Charles.
Coleridge.
Revds. Dale and En-
Penzance.
Cold Turnkey and Two-
RAGHT.
martyr sauce.
Gladstone.
Chamberlain.
Discovery of Kirby
Green.
Lord Beaconsfield.
Gladstone.
jE'ndymioti, £10,000.
The Whole World.
Everywhere.
Punch's Seventy - Ninth
Volume.
NEW YEARS AND OLD.
{A Growl to a Greeting. Growled by old Mr. Grizzlewig.)
Many Happy New Years do you wish me, Sir F Me!
Why, you know I can’t live many New Years to see.
And at my time of life—the wrong side of threescore—
All a man’s years that might have been happy are o’er.
As for me, Sir, I never a happy year knew ;
Future years won’t be happier, and mine will be few.
If I owned all the wealth that I wish for in vain,
’Twould but ease off the years that before me remain.
Had I ten times the riches I ever possessed
At your age in my youth, Sir, I might have been blest
With the means of good living, and then, I’ve no doubt
I should, worse than I am, have been troubled with Gout
I perhaps might have married, and made a mistake—
Which I hadn’t, like others, the money to make ;
Might for love have espoused an unsuitable wife,
Who ’d have been, and would still be, the plague of my
life,
And render my New Year, commencing to-day,
Still farther from happy than ’tis, a long way.
And, Sir, e’en though I now were as rich as a Jew,
Than the Old Year I sadder should still find the New,—
To Gout, I repeat, Sir, a martyr the while,
And a prey to Dyspepsia, Bronchitis, and Bile ;
The source of all manner of ailments and ills
For which money can’t purchase infallible pills.
I don’t dare to enjoy the delights of the table,
And besides, want of appetite makes me unable.
All my pleasures must yearly grow lesser and lesser,
And each twelvemonth prove worse than its bad prede-
cessor.
Many Happy New Years may yourself, Sir, go through,
But you ’ll have the advantage of me if you do.
Each New Year I remember since when a small boy,
I’ve heard people wish friends and acquaintances joy,
As if hoping good wishes would yet, for all pa«t
Disappointment, be crowned with fulfilment at last.
And reflect, Sir Did ever you happen to hear
Any mortal acknowledge a Happy Old Year P
SEASONABLE FOLK-LORE.
If the first person who enters your house in the New
Year goes in with his right foot foremost, ill luck
will befall you. If the person has his face blackened, a
revolver in his right hand, a jemmy in his left, and
Charles Peace, a Monograph,” in his pocket, ill-
luck will befall you very soon.
It is considered unfortunate by some people to go
underneath a ladder. These are the people on whom
workmen have dropped pots of paint and molten lead.
Others consider it unfortunate to pass outside a ladder.
These are they who have stepped off the pavement into
the road, and been run over by traction-engines.
The Folk-Lore with regard to salt is conflicting. If
you have spilt salt on the table, and have then thrown a
handful over your left shoulder, the servant who receives
this in his eyes seldom considers that ill-luck has been
averted. If you help your neighbour to salt, you and
she are certain to quarrel if, at the time of your un-
called-for politeness, she is eating ham, bacon, meringues,
or ice-puddings. Some people when they have spilt salt
on a table-cloth, immediately pour a glass of clarehover
it, to take out the stain. But this is invariably late in
the evening, and arises rather from a confusion of ideas
than from any accurate knowledge of Folk-Lore.
It is most unlucky to look at the new moon through
glass. Want of attention to this maxim is the reason
why so many people who wear spectacles are short-
sighted. Also why astronomers generally come to grief.
The case of Galileo will at once occur to any child in
the fourth standard at a Board School.
If you dip your hands into a basin where even your
best friend has cleansed his face, you and he will quarrel.
This particularly holds true when your best friend has
been playing Clown in an amateur pantomime, or
emulating the glories of Moore and Burgess for the
benefit of a drawing-room.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[January 1, 1881.
WHEN WE WERE BOYS TOGETHER ! ”
Uncle Robin {looking at Toy-sliop window). “ Ah ! they don’t make such
amusing Toys now as they used to make Sixty or Seventy years ago ; do
they, Dick ? ”
Uncle Richard. “No, bt George ! Nothing like ! ”
MR. PUNCH'S SUMMARY, 1880.
THE YEAR OF “ COMPENSATION FOR DISTURBANCE.’
Disturbance.
Compensation.
The Czar.
Dynamite.
The Livadia.
Sultan.
Naval Demonstration.
Departure of Goschen.
King of Greece.
Patriotic People.
Pleasant Tour, ‘ ‘ patron-
ised by all the Crowned
Heads of Europe.”
Bismarck.
Gambetta.
Bismarck.
Gambetta.
Bismarck.
Gambetta.
King of Italy.
Garibaldi.
Garibaldi’s Marriage.
Duke of Mudford.
Punch.
“K.G.” (Kovent Garden.)
Ruskin.
Everybody.
Letter-writing.
Jones and Birch.
Temple Bar Griffin.
City Funds.
Irving.
Caie«ty.
Lyceum.
Irish Landlord.
Boycotting.
Griffiths’ Yaluation.
Lord Rosebery.
Greeks.
Newmarket.
Fawcett.
Telephone.
P.-O. Savings Bank.
Professional Beauties.
Bills.
Photos.
Police.
Press.
“ C” Division.
Middlesex Magistrates.
Public Opinion.
Self-Complacency.
Lord Penzance.
Charles.
Coleridge.
Revds. Dale and En-
Penzance.
Cold Turnkey and Two-
RAGHT.
martyr sauce.
Gladstone.
Chamberlain.
Discovery of Kirby
Green.
Lord Beaconsfield.
Gladstone.
jE'ndymioti, £10,000.
The Whole World.
Everywhere.
Punch's Seventy - Ninth
Volume.
NEW YEARS AND OLD.
{A Growl to a Greeting. Growled by old Mr. Grizzlewig.)
Many Happy New Years do you wish me, Sir F Me!
Why, you know I can’t live many New Years to see.
And at my time of life—the wrong side of threescore—
All a man’s years that might have been happy are o’er.
As for me, Sir, I never a happy year knew ;
Future years won’t be happier, and mine will be few.
If I owned all the wealth that I wish for in vain,
’Twould but ease off the years that before me remain.
Had I ten times the riches I ever possessed
At your age in my youth, Sir, I might have been blest
With the means of good living, and then, I’ve no doubt
I should, worse than I am, have been troubled with Gout
I perhaps might have married, and made a mistake—
Which I hadn’t, like others, the money to make ;
Might for love have espoused an unsuitable wife,
Who ’d have been, and would still be, the plague of my
life,
And render my New Year, commencing to-day,
Still farther from happy than ’tis, a long way.
And, Sir, e’en though I now were as rich as a Jew,
Than the Old Year I sadder should still find the New,—
To Gout, I repeat, Sir, a martyr the while,
And a prey to Dyspepsia, Bronchitis, and Bile ;
The source of all manner of ailments and ills
For which money can’t purchase infallible pills.
I don’t dare to enjoy the delights of the table,
And besides, want of appetite makes me unable.
All my pleasures must yearly grow lesser and lesser,
And each twelvemonth prove worse than its bad prede-
cessor.
Many Happy New Years may yourself, Sir, go through,
But you ’ll have the advantage of me if you do.
Each New Year I remember since when a small boy,
I’ve heard people wish friends and acquaintances joy,
As if hoping good wishes would yet, for all pa«t
Disappointment, be crowned with fulfilment at last.
And reflect, Sir Did ever you happen to hear
Any mortal acknowledge a Happy Old Year P
SEASONABLE FOLK-LORE.
If the first person who enters your house in the New
Year goes in with his right foot foremost, ill luck
will befall you. If the person has his face blackened, a
revolver in his right hand, a jemmy in his left, and
Charles Peace, a Monograph,” in his pocket, ill-
luck will befall you very soon.
It is considered unfortunate by some people to go
underneath a ladder. These are the people on whom
workmen have dropped pots of paint and molten lead.
Others consider it unfortunate to pass outside a ladder.
These are they who have stepped off the pavement into
the road, and been run over by traction-engines.
The Folk-Lore with regard to salt is conflicting. If
you have spilt salt on the table, and have then thrown a
handful over your left shoulder, the servant who receives
this in his eyes seldom considers that ill-luck has been
averted. If you help your neighbour to salt, you and
she are certain to quarrel if, at the time of your un-
called-for politeness, she is eating ham, bacon, meringues,
or ice-puddings. Some people when they have spilt salt
on a table-cloth, immediately pour a glass of clarehover
it, to take out the stain. But this is invariably late in
the evening, and arises rather from a confusion of ideas
than from any accurate knowledge of Folk-Lore.
It is most unlucky to look at the new moon through
glass. Want of attention to this maxim is the reason
why so many people who wear spectacles are short-
sighted. Also why astronomers generally come to grief.
The case of Galileo will at once occur to any child in
the fourth standard at a Board School.
If you dip your hands into a basin where even your
best friend has cleansed his face, you and he will quarrel.
This particularly holds true when your best friend has
been playing Clown in an amateur pantomime, or
emulating the glories of Moore and Burgess for the
benefit of a drawing-room.