Punch: Punch (83.1882)

94

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[August 26, 1882,

| “ CHA1RY NOTHINGS.”

Table-turning has long ceased
to amuse or interest the British
Public. But, if we may judge
from the following advertisement
which appears in the Reading
Mercury, there may be consider-
able sport to be had out of chair-
turning.

/HHA.IR TURNERS —WANTED,

| YJ two good Workmen, without
I character, either good or bad. No
i total abstainer or poacher need apply.
—Address, &c.

As the advertiser requires
neither good nor bad character,
i possibly indifferent characters
| will be at a premium. Thus
i there will be a fine opening for
decayed table-turners and spirit-
rappers out of employment. “No
total abstainer or poacher need
apply.” We are glad to find that
the advertiser knows where to
draw the line. But why, we
want to know, should chairs be
| turned at all ? We know the
I use of a turnkey, a turncock, a
turnspit, a turnpike, a turncoat,
j a turnstile, and a turnover ; but
what is the use of a turnchair ?

I Mr. Punch, who is capable of
i turning his own chair when re-
) quisite, confesses himself quite
j puzzled with this advertisement.

“I am aware, my dear,” said
Mrs. Ramsbotham, bridling up,
“ that the Poet Laureate is a State
Appointment. But what I want
to know is the meaning of what
Mr. Mum, M.P. for Dumbshire,
told me that some one had accepted
an ‘ office of Prophet under the
Crown.’ How can anyone tell
what’s going to happen ? and if
he does know, as an official he
oughtn’t to tell.”

PUNCH'S FANCY PORTRAITS.-No. 98.

TRILLS OF TO-DAY.

I.—Walberswick Pier.

(The Nautico-Artistic Song.)

The sun has gone down ’neath
the blue-purple billow,
And shyly a saffron star shines
in the sky;

The maiden is lissom and lithe as
a willow,

And deep are the depths of her
cyanine eye.

And it’s oh ! for the gleam of the
diamond tear

Which the bold Pilot drops upon
Walberswick Pier!

The sun has come up on the
opaline ocean,

The star is tired out and gone
silently home;

The maiden, methinks, at the
dawn has a notion
That Pilots are fickle and false
as the foam.

And it’s oh! for the sound of the
cold-hearted jeer

While the gay Pilot winks upon
Walberswick Pier !

SIR JULIUS BENEDICT.

“ Benedictus ! Why Benedictus ? .... He
Festival Terms.”—From Shakspeare's Much Ado.
Edition.)

About ten days ago, the Rev.
E. R. Currie was inducted to the
Deanery of Battle. If ever there
were an excuse for a dignitary
of the Establishment joining the
Salvation Army, it would natu-
rally be found for the Dean of
Battle. The Dean’s name, too,
is suggestive of a peppery and
fiery temperament,—“ Currie,”
which sounds ‘ ‘ about as hot as
they make ’em! ” The Bishop of
Chichester took a leading part
on this occasion ; his Lordship
went to Battle, and charged from
the pulpit.

can Woo in

{Birmingham

Very Irish.—The Proprietor of
the Freeman's Journal in prison.

THE LONDONER’S DIARY.

{For the Week ending August 26.)

Monday.—Called upon friends and relations for the last time.

Tuesday.—Final visit to my hatter, gun-maker, and tailor.

Wednesday.—Concluding stroll into the office of my stockbroker.

Thursday.—Farewell dinner at the Club, with stall to follow.

Friday.—Closing of my season-wardrobe, and packing-up of my
"travelling-portmanteau.

Saturday. —Valedictory glance at the Times, finishing - up,
hansom, and off !

Last night, when tucked up in his little bed by the calm moonlit
sea, poor Boodels (of Boodels) wished to be at peace with all the
world, and for a while at least to hug the soft illusion (pretty
metaphor this!) that, as Mr. Gladstone pleasantly says, “We are
at war with no one,” two young Ladies in the next house struck up
the overture to the Crown Diamonds. Then they went in for selec-
tions from Fra Diavolo. Seldom did they play a right note ; rarely
were they either in unison or harmony. “They ’re as bad as those
diabolical Peeq people,” cried Boodels in his agony, “ and 1 ’d string
’em up, without extenuating circumstances, for murdering Aubert ! ”

The Play at one time so largely advertised all over London, ought
to be represented at the Theatre Royal, Dublin, during the O’Connell
Celebration—The Danites.

Mrs. Ramsbotham is delighted to hear the Artists have protested
against the destruction of Cairo, as, she understands, it is the only
place where cairoscuro can be properly studied.

Kumparasuns are Odyrus.

The Lord Mare says as Her Majesty’s wirtue and wisdom is
such as to make her allmost superhuman.

I says, as the man who can eat five pounds of Roast Beef, and
then quietly polish off two pounds of rum stakes, like His Grayshus
Majesty King Catchywhy Oh! is quite superhuman and almost
subblime! Robert.

P.S.—King Catchemalive-0 and Roastemhole-0 I should call him.

Potatoes.—Correspondence still going on in the Times about the
mysterious origin of this vegetable. There’s one writer, at all
events, who ought to know something about Potatoes, and that is
the Peel—who writes from Garden-head, Yentnor—henceforth to be
known as Potato Peer.__

Shakspearian Motto, slightly adapted, for Ministers during
the Recess.—“’Tis my Vacation, Hal! ’Tis no sin fora man to
labour in his Vacation! ”

Short Title for the Married Women’s Property Bill {by a
Fortune-hunting Bachelor).—The Prevention of Marriage Act.

Government War Song (apropos of the Militia).—'1' We mean
to do without them ! ”

Street Nomenclature.— Change of Name.—Mel bury Road to be
in future “ Blackberry Road.”

War Correspondents’ Inventiveness.—The “Gay” Science.