DOI Heft:
July 8, 1882
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17753#0013
July 8, 1882.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
CRICKET HITS.
{By Dmnb-Crarnbo, off his own Bat.)
Cutting for Four. A Clean Bowl.
Saturday.—Arrangements made for running this concern night and
flay. Divided into two shifts. One lot work by day ; one lot work by
night. A great many do neither, but go about Town to dinner-
parties, theatres, and Opera, wiping their brows, sighing and yawning,
and complaining of “ enormous hard work in present Parliament.”
Night pretty peaceful. Healz epigrammatic, Redmond wordy,
Warton snuffy, T. P. O’Connor alternatively offensive and apolo-
getic, Harcourt wide awake, and Shaw-Lefevre in the Chair,
vice Lyon Playfair gone to bed. At eight o’clock this morning
House filled up, Members coming down fresh and rosy. Redmond
goes a step too far. Thunderbolt falls. Sixteen Irish Members sus-
pended at one fell blow. Speechless consternation of Members who
have been in bed all night, just come down to take up the running,
and find themselves suspended. Mr. Big gar unusually distressed.
Speaker sent for. The Sixteen of All Ireland expelled. Walkout
with various airs, from defiance to depression. After this proceeding
get a little dull, and the House a-weary, sitting till Sabbath morning.
Business done.—A Scene, hut not the end of the Act.
IDYLS OF AN OPTIMIST;
Or, Carols in Couleur-de-Bose.
I.—Silver Thames.
0 river of row-boats, romance, floating rubbish,
Of osiers and outfalls, white swans, and strange smells!
That Timon in truth must be terribly tubbish
Whose thought upon thee without tenderness dwells.
Receptacle rolling of dead porkers’ progenies,
Sweeper of sewage away to the sea,
Dim grow the eyes e’en of urban Diogenes,
Dreaming of thee!
Tracking, in fancy, we ’ll say a swoln terrier
Bobbing about on thy ochre-hued flood,
Ravishes ! What can be mellower, merrier,
Than thy flat miles of malodorous mud F
Fleet from its font with soft silvery trickle
Meanders thy stream in clear curve and bright loop,
Down to dun reaches as yellow as pickle,
As slabby as soup.
Oh, but to think of the pools where thy gudgeon
Spring open-gilled at that Circe the bait!
And of the nooks where, with buckle and bludgeon,
Still by thy slime-banks the man-bashers wait!
Think how deliciously, coyly, capriciously,
Babbles thy flood, bearing barbel and bream,
Onward to ink-pools where, beerily, viciously,
Bargees blaspheme.
“ By Tamise ” ripe in sweet Spenser’s urbane age
Mooned urchin angler, spooned amorous maid,
All unprophetic of mud and main drainage,
Tricklings of gas-works, and taintings of trade.
Callow Arcadians whose mute observancy
Hung on bright billows and low-sweeping branches,
What did they wot of our own Thames Conservancy,
Cads, and steam-launches F
Silvery dace—and drains—brown-mottled perch—and dyes !
Troutlings — and chemical refuse to choke them !
Were there joint Nymphs of romance and of merchandise,
Battersea—say—were the place to invoke them.
Lovely to think how the utilitarian
Snuff-coloured Naiads of Wapping delight in
Nastiness fluvial, foulness riparian,
Ever their sight in !
Talk of the Rheingold great Wagner enlarges on F
Think of the Thames-hoard deep down in that flood,
Flowing with tugs, penny-steamers, and barges on !
Thames-Maiden treasure of muck and of mud.
Think, and applaud Metropolitan tastefulness
Which to our Thames renders tributes like these,
Noise and much nastiness, poison, huge wastefulness,
Dirt and disease !
O river of contrasts and wild contradictions,
Low ripples, loud ’Arries, swift silver, and sewage,
More lovely than streamlets of classical fictions,
More filthy than Acheron’s fluvial brewage !
Talk not of Greek floods, their reed-borders a-quiver
With Pan at his pipe-making, Nymphs at their toilet;
The Ancients ne’er had such a beautiful river-
Such boobies to spoil it!
THE SPENDTHRIFT'S GUIDE.—No. I.
The art of Money-grubbing has been so much exalted for many
years, and has even been raised to the level of a cardinal virtue,
under the softened title of “Self-Help,” that perhaps it would be
well to recognise the existence of the opposite quality, and to publish
a few words of advice for the guidance of Spendthrifts. Every man
who has money is not born with the talent for spending it well; and,
even if he possess this talent, it may be improved by judicious
teaching. Let us teach.
Our first lesson shall be on keeping a Yacht. This form of money-
spending is simply ridiculous. Not one man in a hundred gets any
real enjoyment out of it, unless enjoyment can be got out of feeling
always uncomfortable, if not absolutely ill; and in watching the rudd)
faces of an idle crew, who are eating and drinking, and being clothed
at your expense.
Our second lesson shall be on keeping Horses. The horse is a noble
animal, honest and truthful as a Newfoundland dog, but the same
cannot be said of those who deal in him, and look after him. Horse-
dealers, stablemen, grooms, and helps are not influenced by tin
horse’s nature, and a “ horsey ” man generally is a man not to be too
much trusted. Those who keep horses spend much money for the
profit, and often for the enjoyment of other people ; and, out of fifty
riders, there is probably only one who really understands and enjoys
horse-riding, and is not in perpetual fear of breaking his neck, even
if he is lucky enough to escape a “ cropper.”
Locomotion we admit to be necessary, and locomotion is only
brought to its highest state of perfection on English Railways. The
first rude attempt at luxury and comfort in travelling is the Saloon-
Car. Our recommendation to the Spendthrift is to have a private
travelling carriage, fitted by the most artistic and expensive
upholsterers of the day, provided with a bath-room, sleeping-berths,
a wine-cellar, a portable kitchen, a drawing-room, a dining-room, a
servants’ room, a luggage-box, and any further convenience which
highly-paid ingenuity can suggest. This car fitted on to the network of
railways, and worked on a mileage arrangement with the companies,
would form a most agreeable money-spending machine, the invita-
tions to which would be more coveted than any invitations for a
cruise in the Cyclone. One day at Brighton, the next in the High-
lands, and the next on the coast of Cornwall—these are only a few of
the enjoyments which such a carriage would bring within the reach
of a select number. An Italian cook, a small private band, a barber,
an artist, and a descriptive writer ought to form part of the travelling
staff, and every care ought to be taken to make the journeys as
expensive as possible. If the Spendthrift is not equal to the direction
of so much outlay, he should select, as manager, a head-servant from
some embarrassed family of distinction. By all means let him avoid
the mistake of taking his servants from millionnaires, unless he
wants a walking embodiment of Boor Richard's Almanack.
Last week Cambridge showed a good front to Oxford, with three
Studds in it. Cantab motto just now, “The proper Studdy of man-
kind is Cricket.”
CRICKET HITS.
{By Dmnb-Crarnbo, off his own Bat.)
Cutting for Four. A Clean Bowl.
Saturday.—Arrangements made for running this concern night and
flay. Divided into two shifts. One lot work by day ; one lot work by
night. A great many do neither, but go about Town to dinner-
parties, theatres, and Opera, wiping their brows, sighing and yawning,
and complaining of “ enormous hard work in present Parliament.”
Night pretty peaceful. Healz epigrammatic, Redmond wordy,
Warton snuffy, T. P. O’Connor alternatively offensive and apolo-
getic, Harcourt wide awake, and Shaw-Lefevre in the Chair,
vice Lyon Playfair gone to bed. At eight o’clock this morning
House filled up, Members coming down fresh and rosy. Redmond
goes a step too far. Thunderbolt falls. Sixteen Irish Members sus-
pended at one fell blow. Speechless consternation of Members who
have been in bed all night, just come down to take up the running,
and find themselves suspended. Mr. Big gar unusually distressed.
Speaker sent for. The Sixteen of All Ireland expelled. Walkout
with various airs, from defiance to depression. After this proceeding
get a little dull, and the House a-weary, sitting till Sabbath morning.
Business done.—A Scene, hut not the end of the Act.
IDYLS OF AN OPTIMIST;
Or, Carols in Couleur-de-Bose.
I.—Silver Thames.
0 river of row-boats, romance, floating rubbish,
Of osiers and outfalls, white swans, and strange smells!
That Timon in truth must be terribly tubbish
Whose thought upon thee without tenderness dwells.
Receptacle rolling of dead porkers’ progenies,
Sweeper of sewage away to the sea,
Dim grow the eyes e’en of urban Diogenes,
Dreaming of thee!
Tracking, in fancy, we ’ll say a swoln terrier
Bobbing about on thy ochre-hued flood,
Ravishes ! What can be mellower, merrier,
Than thy flat miles of malodorous mud F
Fleet from its font with soft silvery trickle
Meanders thy stream in clear curve and bright loop,
Down to dun reaches as yellow as pickle,
As slabby as soup.
Oh, but to think of the pools where thy gudgeon
Spring open-gilled at that Circe the bait!
And of the nooks where, with buckle and bludgeon,
Still by thy slime-banks the man-bashers wait!
Think how deliciously, coyly, capriciously,
Babbles thy flood, bearing barbel and bream,
Onward to ink-pools where, beerily, viciously,
Bargees blaspheme.
“ By Tamise ” ripe in sweet Spenser’s urbane age
Mooned urchin angler, spooned amorous maid,
All unprophetic of mud and main drainage,
Tricklings of gas-works, and taintings of trade.
Callow Arcadians whose mute observancy
Hung on bright billows and low-sweeping branches,
What did they wot of our own Thames Conservancy,
Cads, and steam-launches F
Silvery dace—and drains—brown-mottled perch—and dyes !
Troutlings — and chemical refuse to choke them !
Were there joint Nymphs of romance and of merchandise,
Battersea—say—were the place to invoke them.
Lovely to think how the utilitarian
Snuff-coloured Naiads of Wapping delight in
Nastiness fluvial, foulness riparian,
Ever their sight in !
Talk of the Rheingold great Wagner enlarges on F
Think of the Thames-hoard deep down in that flood,
Flowing with tugs, penny-steamers, and barges on !
Thames-Maiden treasure of muck and of mud.
Think, and applaud Metropolitan tastefulness
Which to our Thames renders tributes like these,
Noise and much nastiness, poison, huge wastefulness,
Dirt and disease !
O river of contrasts and wild contradictions,
Low ripples, loud ’Arries, swift silver, and sewage,
More lovely than streamlets of classical fictions,
More filthy than Acheron’s fluvial brewage !
Talk not of Greek floods, their reed-borders a-quiver
With Pan at his pipe-making, Nymphs at their toilet;
The Ancients ne’er had such a beautiful river-
Such boobies to spoil it!
THE SPENDTHRIFT'S GUIDE.—No. I.
The art of Money-grubbing has been so much exalted for many
years, and has even been raised to the level of a cardinal virtue,
under the softened title of “Self-Help,” that perhaps it would be
well to recognise the existence of the opposite quality, and to publish
a few words of advice for the guidance of Spendthrifts. Every man
who has money is not born with the talent for spending it well; and,
even if he possess this talent, it may be improved by judicious
teaching. Let us teach.
Our first lesson shall be on keeping a Yacht. This form of money-
spending is simply ridiculous. Not one man in a hundred gets any
real enjoyment out of it, unless enjoyment can be got out of feeling
always uncomfortable, if not absolutely ill; and in watching the rudd)
faces of an idle crew, who are eating and drinking, and being clothed
at your expense.
Our second lesson shall be on keeping Horses. The horse is a noble
animal, honest and truthful as a Newfoundland dog, but the same
cannot be said of those who deal in him, and look after him. Horse-
dealers, stablemen, grooms, and helps are not influenced by tin
horse’s nature, and a “ horsey ” man generally is a man not to be too
much trusted. Those who keep horses spend much money for the
profit, and often for the enjoyment of other people ; and, out of fifty
riders, there is probably only one who really understands and enjoys
horse-riding, and is not in perpetual fear of breaking his neck, even
if he is lucky enough to escape a “ cropper.”
Locomotion we admit to be necessary, and locomotion is only
brought to its highest state of perfection on English Railways. The
first rude attempt at luxury and comfort in travelling is the Saloon-
Car. Our recommendation to the Spendthrift is to have a private
travelling carriage, fitted by the most artistic and expensive
upholsterers of the day, provided with a bath-room, sleeping-berths,
a wine-cellar, a portable kitchen, a drawing-room, a dining-room, a
servants’ room, a luggage-box, and any further convenience which
highly-paid ingenuity can suggest. This car fitted on to the network of
railways, and worked on a mileage arrangement with the companies,
would form a most agreeable money-spending machine, the invita-
tions to which would be more coveted than any invitations for a
cruise in the Cyclone. One day at Brighton, the next in the High-
lands, and the next on the coast of Cornwall—these are only a few of
the enjoyments which such a carriage would bring within the reach
of a select number. An Italian cook, a small private band, a barber,
an artist, and a descriptive writer ought to form part of the travelling
staff, and every care ought to be taken to make the journeys as
expensive as possible. If the Spendthrift is not equal to the direction
of so much outlay, he should select, as manager, a head-servant from
some embarrassed family of distinction. By all means let him avoid
the mistake of taking his servants from millionnaires, unless he
wants a walking embodiment of Boor Richard's Almanack.
Last week Cambridge showed a good front to Oxford, with three
Studds in it. Cantab motto just now, “The proper Studdy of man-
kind is Cricket.”