December 10, 1881.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 265
BITTERS AT THE CLUB.
MacStodge (Pictor ignoius). ""Who's that going out?"
0'Duffer {Pictor ignotissimus). "One Ernest Raphael Sopely, who painted
Lady Midas !"
MacStodge. "Oh, the Artist/"
0'Duffer. "No. The Royal Academician 1n
UNDEB THE CLOAK.
" Charity covereth a multitude of sins."—Old Proverb with a neiv Point.
Scene—An Audience-Chamber. Present—Charity, John Bull, and
Mr. Punch.
John Bull {effusively to' Charity). Yes, Madam, my little island, I am proud
to say, is your chosen home. Here Institutions—Temples I may say—are dedi-
cated to your service in number and variety unmatched elsewhere. The treasure
annually laid voluntarily upon your shrine is the marvel of other nations. If
there is one thing upon which I congratulate myself-
Mr. Punch [drily). My dear John, there are many—too many, perhaps.
John Bull {staggered). Why, what do you mean ?
Mr. Punch. I mean that indiscriminate self-eulogy is one of your little
weaknesses. Indiscriminate, I say. You are apt to pat your own head, with
your eyes shut, and without considering with sufficient care the grounds of your
self-complacency.
John Bull. But surely the service of Charity—
Mr. Punch. Is a holy one. But how about its Ministers ?
John Bull. Oh, I suppose they are all right.
Mr. Punch. Of course you do. Charity and I are not quite so comfortably
satisfied on that point. Suppose we have a few of them in, and question them.
Enter sundry Doctors, Matrons, Nurses, and other Dignitaries and Servitors
from Hospitals, Infirmaries, and Workhouses.
John Bull [surveying them as the leader of a Salvation Army might be
supposed to review his mustered troops). Ah! a brave, benevolent, and highly
respectable lot. Madam, you may be proud of your Ministrants.
Charity. Humph!
Mr. Punch. Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, you are all Almoners in the holy
cause of Charity.
All {Chorus after a popular song). We are ! We are ! We are ! Hooray !
Mr. Punch. Your duty is to minister to the sick, the suffering, and the
destitute.
All. It is ! It is!
Mr. Punch. In consideration of adequate salaries ?
All {ivith less effusion and unanimity), Ye-es—no-o—
ah-h—that is to say—ah !-
Mr. Punch. Well, at least you are all paid for your
services. The charity which you administer is no more
your own than the dog's food is the gift of the man who
looks after the kennels. You need not trouble to assent,
with or without qualification, because it is indisputable
matter of fact, though, perhaps, put plainly, it strikes
you. in a new light. Well now, do you consider your
patients and paupers duly grateful-
Dr. Drivem. To us, for all our care and kindness ?
I'm sorry to be compelled to answer in the negative.
They seem frequently to be inspired with a very imper-
fect sense of the favours they receive at our hands.
Mrs. Matron Hoitytoity. Their lack of deference and
docility is sometimes lamentable.
Mrs. Nurse Naggem. Want as much waiting on as
if they was Ladies and Gentlemen, and paid for it.
Entry Porter. Orful job to make 'em stand in their
proper places and wait their turn. 'Ave to be down
on 'em sharp ; worry 'em like sheep a'most, I can tell
you.
_ Mr. Bumble. 'Ear ! 'Ear! A nasty wexing, wor-
ritting, illconwenient, bragian lot, as arskes for wot's
give to 'em free gratis for nothin', as bold and howdaci-
ous^as if they paid us to wait on'em. If I'd my way
Mr. Punch. That will do, Mr. Bumble. You are paid
to wait on them, recollect, though not by them. That
is precisely the little fact that you all seem to overlook.
The spirit in which you have all responded—the same
spirit, whether expressed in the elegant periods of
Dr. Drivem, or the less refined idiom of Mr. Bumble—
is evidence, I fear, of the spirit in which you are apt too
often to administer—administer only remember—the
bounties of Charity to the objects of her care. I 've
heard unpleasant stories of needless harshness and very
uncalled-for haughtiness, of free indulgence in insolent
suggestion and supercilious snubbing, of honest, and
often gently born sick folk, kept waiting during weary
hours in seatless rooms, exposed to the rudeness of
churlish Jacks-in-Office, and the none too delicate
dealing of bumptious Doctors.
Dr. Drivem. These stories, Sir,-
Mr. Punch. Are true, many of them, I know. There
are many things in the inner life of Hospitals and In-
firmaries, which need the Public eye upon them. Mine
is,—and you know what that means.
Charity {sternly). My gifts must not be marred in the
manner of giving. Charity churlishly administered is
Charity degraded and half defeated of her aims. The
sick poor, like the opulent, need kindness and con-
sideration, often quite as much as they need drugs and
diet. The paid Almoners of my bounty—the National
bounty—are not to lesson or frustrate my purposes of
help and healing, by any manifestations of their personal
arrogance.
Mr. Punch. Precisely so. Realise the fact, Dr.
Deivem, that neither you nor any of your fellow-
servants of the Public here, has more right to be rude or
harsh to a public patient on a hospital pallet than to a
private patient in a Belgravian bedchamber—at any
rate, until you give your services gratuitously, or sup-
port the public Charity out of your own private purse.
Dixi ! And now you can go—for the present.
John Bull. Well, really, Mr. Punch, I don't feel quite
so proud as I did of my multitudinous Charities.
Mr. Punch. They are fine things, all the same, Mr.
Bull, and to a large extent fairly administered. But
Officialism, high or low, professional or proletarian,
cultured or illiterate, always grows callous and cruel in
its dealings with the helplessness of poverty, of sickness,
or of youth, unless continually acting under the Public
eye. There are black sheep even in Charity's flock ; or,
rather, there are wolfish hirelings amongst her shepherds.
John Bull. You must keep yow eye on them, Mr.
Punch.
Mr. Punch {emphatically). I mean to'
The best way to afford instant relief to anyone
suffering from water on the brain is to give him a good
tap on the head.
vol. lxxxj.
a a
BITTERS AT THE CLUB.
MacStodge (Pictor ignoius). ""Who's that going out?"
0'Duffer {Pictor ignotissimus). "One Ernest Raphael Sopely, who painted
Lady Midas !"
MacStodge. "Oh, the Artist/"
0'Duffer. "No. The Royal Academician 1n
UNDEB THE CLOAK.
" Charity covereth a multitude of sins."—Old Proverb with a neiv Point.
Scene—An Audience-Chamber. Present—Charity, John Bull, and
Mr. Punch.
John Bull {effusively to' Charity). Yes, Madam, my little island, I am proud
to say, is your chosen home. Here Institutions—Temples I may say—are dedi-
cated to your service in number and variety unmatched elsewhere. The treasure
annually laid voluntarily upon your shrine is the marvel of other nations. If
there is one thing upon which I congratulate myself-
Mr. Punch [drily). My dear John, there are many—too many, perhaps.
John Bull {staggered). Why, what do you mean ?
Mr. Punch. I mean that indiscriminate self-eulogy is one of your little
weaknesses. Indiscriminate, I say. You are apt to pat your own head, with
your eyes shut, and without considering with sufficient care the grounds of your
self-complacency.
John Bull. But surely the service of Charity—
Mr. Punch. Is a holy one. But how about its Ministers ?
John Bull. Oh, I suppose they are all right.
Mr. Punch. Of course you do. Charity and I are not quite so comfortably
satisfied on that point. Suppose we have a few of them in, and question them.
Enter sundry Doctors, Matrons, Nurses, and other Dignitaries and Servitors
from Hospitals, Infirmaries, and Workhouses.
John Bull [surveying them as the leader of a Salvation Army might be
supposed to review his mustered troops). Ah! a brave, benevolent, and highly
respectable lot. Madam, you may be proud of your Ministrants.
Charity. Humph!
Mr. Punch. Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, you are all Almoners in the holy
cause of Charity.
All {Chorus after a popular song). We are ! We are ! We are ! Hooray !
Mr. Punch. Your duty is to minister to the sick, the suffering, and the
destitute.
All. It is ! It is!
Mr. Punch. In consideration of adequate salaries ?
All {ivith less effusion and unanimity), Ye-es—no-o—
ah-h—that is to say—ah !-
Mr. Punch. Well, at least you are all paid for your
services. The charity which you administer is no more
your own than the dog's food is the gift of the man who
looks after the kennels. You need not trouble to assent,
with or without qualification, because it is indisputable
matter of fact, though, perhaps, put plainly, it strikes
you. in a new light. Well now, do you consider your
patients and paupers duly grateful-
Dr. Drivem. To us, for all our care and kindness ?
I'm sorry to be compelled to answer in the negative.
They seem frequently to be inspired with a very imper-
fect sense of the favours they receive at our hands.
Mrs. Matron Hoitytoity. Their lack of deference and
docility is sometimes lamentable.
Mrs. Nurse Naggem. Want as much waiting on as
if they was Ladies and Gentlemen, and paid for it.
Entry Porter. Orful job to make 'em stand in their
proper places and wait their turn. 'Ave to be down
on 'em sharp ; worry 'em like sheep a'most, I can tell
you.
_ Mr. Bumble. 'Ear ! 'Ear! A nasty wexing, wor-
ritting, illconwenient, bragian lot, as arskes for wot's
give to 'em free gratis for nothin', as bold and howdaci-
ous^as if they paid us to wait on'em. If I'd my way
Mr. Punch. That will do, Mr. Bumble. You are paid
to wait on them, recollect, though not by them. That
is precisely the little fact that you all seem to overlook.
The spirit in which you have all responded—the same
spirit, whether expressed in the elegant periods of
Dr. Drivem, or the less refined idiom of Mr. Bumble—
is evidence, I fear, of the spirit in which you are apt too
often to administer—administer only remember—the
bounties of Charity to the objects of her care. I 've
heard unpleasant stories of needless harshness and very
uncalled-for haughtiness, of free indulgence in insolent
suggestion and supercilious snubbing, of honest, and
often gently born sick folk, kept waiting during weary
hours in seatless rooms, exposed to the rudeness of
churlish Jacks-in-Office, and the none too delicate
dealing of bumptious Doctors.
Dr. Drivem. These stories, Sir,-
Mr. Punch. Are true, many of them, I know. There
are many things in the inner life of Hospitals and In-
firmaries, which need the Public eye upon them. Mine
is,—and you know what that means.
Charity {sternly). My gifts must not be marred in the
manner of giving. Charity churlishly administered is
Charity degraded and half defeated of her aims. The
sick poor, like the opulent, need kindness and con-
sideration, often quite as much as they need drugs and
diet. The paid Almoners of my bounty—the National
bounty—are not to lesson or frustrate my purposes of
help and healing, by any manifestations of their personal
arrogance.
Mr. Punch. Precisely so. Realise the fact, Dr.
Deivem, that neither you nor any of your fellow-
servants of the Public here, has more right to be rude or
harsh to a public patient on a hospital pallet than to a
private patient in a Belgravian bedchamber—at any
rate, until you give your services gratuitously, or sup-
port the public Charity out of your own private purse.
Dixi ! And now you can go—for the present.
John Bull. Well, really, Mr. Punch, I don't feel quite
so proud as I did of my multitudinous Charities.
Mr. Punch. They are fine things, all the same, Mr.
Bull, and to a large extent fairly administered. But
Officialism, high or low, professional or proletarian,
cultured or illiterate, always grows callous and cruel in
its dealings with the helplessness of poverty, of sickness,
or of youth, unless continually acting under the Public
eye. There are black sheep even in Charity's flock ; or,
rather, there are wolfish hirelings amongst her shepherds.
John Bull. You must keep yow eye on them, Mr.
Punch.
Mr. Punch {emphatically). I mean to'
The best way to afford instant relief to anyone
suffering from water on the brain is to give him a good
tap on the head.
vol. lxxxj.
a a
Werk/Gegenstand/Objekt
Titel
Titel/Objekt
Punch
Sachbegriff/Objekttyp
Inschrift/Wasserzeichen
Aufbewahrung/Standort
Aufbewahrungsort/Standort (GND)
Inv. Nr./Signatur
H 634-3 Folio
Objektbeschreibung
Maß-/Formatangaben
Auflage/Druckzustand
Werktitel/Werkverzeichnis
Herstellung/Entstehung
Künstler/Urheber/Hersteller (GND)
Entstehungsdatum
um 1881
Entstehungsdatum (normiert)
1876 - 1886
Entstehungsort (GND)
Auftrag
Publikation
Fund/Ausgrabung
Provenienz
Restaurierung
Sammlung Eingang
Ausstellung
Bearbeitung/Umgestaltung
Thema/Bildinhalt
Thema/Bildinhalt (GND)