DOI issue:
March 10, 1883
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17754#0126
March 10, 1883.J PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
119
‘ ENFANT TERRIBLE”
Grandmamma, {maternal). “What a Fidget yod are, George ! What are you looking about for now?”
Grandson. “ Gran’ma, where’s that-1 was looking for that ‘Miserable Table,’ Pa’ says you keep!”
BUMBLE AND THE TROGLODYTE.
(“ Extremes meet."—Old Adage.)
[See case “ Goodacre v. TVatson." Mr. Watson had been utilising “soft
core,” consisting of animal and vegetable refuse, as a substitute for the gravel
he had dug out, in preparing a place called Dancer’s Land as a “site for
houses.” “The Fulham Local Board perceived no impropriety in his
proceedings.”—Times.)
Bumble. River-drift Man, garmentless Cave-dweller,
Primitive party, early iehthyophagist,
Poor flint-chipping, troglodytish varlet,
How I pity you I
Troglodyte. Humph ! I’ve been perusing certain Law-reports,
“ Goodacre v. Watson ’’—that was one of them.
Dancers'-Land ! do you know that locality,
Gorgeous Being?
Bumble. I—oh—come now !—that is, really, Troglodyte,
Can you read, who antedated Cadmus
By as many years as the tail of a comet
Has of inches ?
Troglodyte. That’s irrelevant! Strikes me, Fulham’s dustbins,
And road-scrapings swept from wheel-worn Kensington,
Seem suggestive of more utter nastiness
Than my Cave was.
Troglodyte. Verily, Gorgeous Portent, that seems kind of you.
Yet, without ingratitude cold or querulous,
I would ask precisely why my destiny
You commiserate ?
Bumble. Why ? Good gracious ! Need you thus interrogate ?
0 Cave-dweller ! Fancy your existence now—
Mouldy, tenebrous, smoky, subterranean
Toad-in-the-holish!
Chimneys none, no windows, no front-door at all,
Lightless, drainless, paintless, fireless possibly,
Stairless, cold, unventilate, void of furniture —
What a residence !
Cinders, ashpit refuse, brick-kiln rubbish,
Midden-muck and vegetable rottenness,
Are “ foundations ” I should not have cared about
For my domicile.
Earth and fish-bones make a concrete passable,
But your compost, nasty and malodorous,
The “ soft-core ” of Dancers’-Land !—no, verily.
’Twere too horrible !
Therefore doubt T, Man of garb astonishing,
If, with all your Boards and Jerry Builders, you
Have improved so much upon the Troglodyte !
Bumble {disgustedly). Oh ! get out with you !
Troglodyte. Oh ! I see. "Well, ’twasn’t all sheer luxury ;
Grub ran short sometimes, and caves were stufiyish;
But, concerning my abode, the question is,
Have you bettered it ?
Bumble. Bettered it ? Why, bless your unsophisticate
Savage soul, our houses now are gorgeous !
Even our restaurants are marble palaces,
Fit for Doges.
“ The Bishop of Manchester presented an extraordinary appear-
ance at his ordination.” If he had presented an “ Ordinary ”
appearance it would have been appropriate ; but he wore, says Truth,
“ a black-sleeved Cope.” This must be a wonderful garment. Quite
a new thing in Copes, which, since they were first invented as Pagan
waterproofs, never had sleeves at all. The Bishop will be known as
“ Johnny Cope.”
119
‘ ENFANT TERRIBLE”
Grandmamma, {maternal). “What a Fidget yod are, George ! What are you looking about for now?”
Grandson. “ Gran’ma, where’s that-1 was looking for that ‘Miserable Table,’ Pa’ says you keep!”
BUMBLE AND THE TROGLODYTE.
(“ Extremes meet."—Old Adage.)
[See case “ Goodacre v. TVatson." Mr. Watson had been utilising “soft
core,” consisting of animal and vegetable refuse, as a substitute for the gravel
he had dug out, in preparing a place called Dancer’s Land as a “site for
houses.” “The Fulham Local Board perceived no impropriety in his
proceedings.”—Times.)
Bumble. River-drift Man, garmentless Cave-dweller,
Primitive party, early iehthyophagist,
Poor flint-chipping, troglodytish varlet,
How I pity you I
Troglodyte. Humph ! I’ve been perusing certain Law-reports,
“ Goodacre v. Watson ’’—that was one of them.
Dancers'-Land ! do you know that locality,
Gorgeous Being?
Bumble. I—oh—come now !—that is, really, Troglodyte,
Can you read, who antedated Cadmus
By as many years as the tail of a comet
Has of inches ?
Troglodyte. That’s irrelevant! Strikes me, Fulham’s dustbins,
And road-scrapings swept from wheel-worn Kensington,
Seem suggestive of more utter nastiness
Than my Cave was.
Troglodyte. Verily, Gorgeous Portent, that seems kind of you.
Yet, without ingratitude cold or querulous,
I would ask precisely why my destiny
You commiserate ?
Bumble. Why ? Good gracious ! Need you thus interrogate ?
0 Cave-dweller ! Fancy your existence now—
Mouldy, tenebrous, smoky, subterranean
Toad-in-the-holish!
Chimneys none, no windows, no front-door at all,
Lightless, drainless, paintless, fireless possibly,
Stairless, cold, unventilate, void of furniture —
What a residence !
Cinders, ashpit refuse, brick-kiln rubbish,
Midden-muck and vegetable rottenness,
Are “ foundations ” I should not have cared about
For my domicile.
Earth and fish-bones make a concrete passable,
But your compost, nasty and malodorous,
The “ soft-core ” of Dancers’-Land !—no, verily.
’Twere too horrible !
Therefore doubt T, Man of garb astonishing,
If, with all your Boards and Jerry Builders, you
Have improved so much upon the Troglodyte !
Bumble {disgustedly). Oh ! get out with you !
Troglodyte. Oh ! I see. "Well, ’twasn’t all sheer luxury ;
Grub ran short sometimes, and caves were stufiyish;
But, concerning my abode, the question is,
Have you bettered it ?
Bumble. Bettered it ? Why, bless your unsophisticate
Savage soul, our houses now are gorgeous !
Even our restaurants are marble palaces,
Fit for Doges.
“ The Bishop of Manchester presented an extraordinary appear-
ance at his ordination.” If he had presented an “ Ordinary ”
appearance it would have been appropriate ; but he wore, says Truth,
“ a black-sleeved Cope.” This must be a wonderful garment. Quite
a new thing in Copes, which, since they were first invented as Pagan
waterproofs, never had sleeves at all. The Bishop will be known as
“ Johnny Cope.”