Punch (82.1882)

214

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [Mat 6, 1882.

GEE UP, “G. G.! ”

We reoeive the following'
telegram. from the Grosve-
nor Restaurant at the mo-
ment of going to press:—

“ Sir Coutts-Lindsay,
mindful of the proverbial
pleasure of variety, con-
sults all tastes at the Gros-
venor. Here Mr. Burne
Jones has his iiing to the
extent of nine pictures, Mr.
Whistler is represented
hy seven, Sir Erederick
Leightoh by one, Mr.
Millais by two, and Mr.
Walter Ceahe by nine.
Mr. Alma Tadema has
four, Mr. Bictja rd Doyle
two, Mr. Yal Pbinsep
three, Mr. Holman Hunt
one, Mr. Pellegeini three,
Mr. Hericomer four, Mr.
Henry Moore three, and
Mr. Halswelle one.
There are three hundred
and thirty-four works be-
sides these. If you go
steadily through them all,
which I have not, it wili
give you a capital appetite
for luncheon at the Grosve-
nor Restaurant. I am
now going steadily through
luneheon, instead of the
pictures. If I went steadily
through the pictures, per-
haps Sir Coutts would give
me in charge of the police,
and the artists might ob-
jeet. Pictures can wait.
Luncheon can’t.

Mahlsiick.”

*** Boys’ Novelist
Series.—“ Wet Bob” is
unavoidahly postponed for
another week, owing to
our Boy Novelist not yet
having returned from his
holidays.

PUNCH’S FANCY PORTRAITS.-No. 82.

HERR WAGNER,

The Bi-Cycle-ist of Her. Majesty’s and Drury Lane.

SCOTCH WUT.

Who says the Scotch
have no sense of humour ?
No Humour ! Why, it
bubhles up in most unex-
peeted and most unusual
places.

Matters that in dull,
phlegmatie England wonld
pass without anything ap-
proaching a smile, are in
Edinburgh the source of
hearty genial laughter.

Take, for instance, the
following extract from the
Times:—

“ Edioburgh.—The degree
of M.D. wasi onferredonTHO-
mas Nicholas German Te
Water, of the Cape of Good
Hope.”

With the exception of
Dr. Te Wateb’s somewhat
hydropathic name, there is
nothing unusual tbere; but
mark what follows, and
then think whether the
Scotch Professors were not
poking their fun at their
Good Hopeful Brother:—

“ The suhject of his thesis
was Apocynin a Cardiac Poison
in Radix Apocyni Cannolin."

Shonld Dr. Gebman Te
Wateb publish his Thesis,
it might afford cheerful
reading for a bilious dys-
peptic, or a presentation
copy might be sent to the
Pbjhe Ministeb, to enable
him to wile away an idle
hour.

“ No one can tell a tale
better than my cousin, the
Major,” remarked Mrs.
Ramsbotham. “ He is said
to be one of the cleverest
ramoneurs you can meet at
the dinner-table.”

SIMPLE STORIES EOR LITTLE GENTLEFOLK.

“ Be always kind to animals wherever vou may be! ”—Elderly Lady.

No. VI.-SAMMY AND THE ST. BERNARD.

Sammy was staying with his parents at the Hospice of the Great
St. Bernard. There was roore snow about than usual, and he heard

the Monks say it wonld be
a bad time for the dogs.
So he rose early one morn-
ing, and taking his father’s
brandy-flask with him—
his worthy progenitor was
still slnmbering—he went
forth for a walk. The
snow was very deep, he
had great difficulty in
keeping the path. Some-
times he was even np to
his neck in a snow-drift.
However, he persevered.
He remembered. the pic-
ture in the nursery at home, of a St. Bernard dog bringing home a
boyjust about his size. “One good turn deserves another,” said
Sam, and he trudged sturdily onward.

His perseverance was presently rewarded. He saw the footmarks
of a large dog, and he followed the track, At last they disappeared
altogether, and he was at fault. Quite haphazard, he struck his I
Alpenstock into a freshly-fallen heap of snow. It went down like a

spear, and from the noise that followed, it had evidently penetrated
a sensitive body. To go down on his hands and knees and scratch
away at the snow as if he were mad, was the work of a moment.
After scratching in this manner for half an hour, he was rewarded
by coming npon the body of Barry, one of the finest dogs in the
Monastery, apparently dead.

He put his hand on the dog’s heart and found it still pnlsating
slowly. Putting his poeket-knife between the jaws, he opened the
dog’s'mouth as he would an oyster. In a second he had emptied the
eontents of the paternal flask down his patient’s throat. The dog was
saved, but he could not walk. He got np, he fell down, he rolled over
and over in the snow. At last the courageous Sammy, seeing Barry
was dropping off into a fatal sleep, put his two fore-paws over his
shoulders, and literally dragged the gigantic beast all the way to the
Hospice. At the door he fell down exhausted, and Barry, who by
this time had somewhat recovered, when the Monks came out,
wagged his tail, looked benevolent, and pretended he had reseued
the boy. ___

"We have no space left for JBoccaccio at the Comedy Theatre this
week. It is a bright spectacle, with two or three good musical bits
and one funny situation. The orchestra is too loud throughout, and
the music lacks the charm of novelty. The flrst Act is “ Elorenee
during the fete of St. John.” Flobence St. John looks as if the
piece ought to have been at the Avenue Theatre with Mons.
Mabius.

Riots in Skye.—The Skyesmen appear to be very irate. Tan-

tcene animis ccelestibus irce ?