DOI Heft:
June 2, 1883
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17754#0264
A CAUTION TO YOUNG LADIES.
Specimens of the kind of Man a Fair Maiden is apt to i Specimens of the kind of Man she will perhaps be only
TIPTILT HER NOSE AT WHEN SHE 's EIGHTEEN. I TOO DELIGHTED TO MARRY, WHEN SHE ’s THIRTY.
Between the Two may be seen a likeness of the Ideal of her Dreams, who, young as he is, has already surpassed
Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Tennyson, Lord Wolseley, Mr. Millais, Mr. Santley, Mr. Irving, Mr. Grace, Edward Hanlon, and
everybody else in all their respective achievements. His Name is Talbot Cecil'Stanley de Montmorency leYavasseur
—AND WE HAVE NEVER MET HIM.
THE ENRAGED MUSICIAN.
Scene—The Parliamentary “ Quiet Street.” Grand Old Musician
at Window with Score of ‘‘ Liberal Policy.” Outside, a chari-
vari of conflicting Noises. Enraged Musician loquitur—
Alas ! for my beautiful Symphony, “ Liberal Policy ” !
Hoped to have finished it. Now, of such hopes I the folly see.
Harmony ? Bah! It evades all my efforts, plus Granville’s.
Handel might symphonise clanging cacophonous anvils,
Wagner find motif for tone-poems e’en in tornadoes,
But to blend Phidian friezes and stiff High-Art dados
Were but the simplest of tasks as compared with the labour
Of working out harmony here ! Just as well be the neighbour
Of stithy-swart Yulcan, as live midst this loud charivari
And try to make music ; noctivagant howlings of ’Arry
Are sweet to the gr-r-r-r of that vile monkey-organ of Randy’s !
By Jove, how he grinds ! Oh ! of all duodecimo dandies
That ever played gamin and grinder, he is the most teasing,
And look at his monkey-—how like him!—it’s jumping and. seizing
The hair—what there is—of that broad, burly, blatant big-drummer.
Bang ! Bang! Oh, my ears! Ah, that horrible noisy new-comer
From Leatherdom’s city has wrought me more harm than my foes
have ;
I like, I defend him F If ever my eyes, ears, and nose have
Sustained keen offence, ’tis from Bradlaugh there bumping and
booming
As though he delighted my score to destruction in dooming.
And then that huge organ, like some mad piano-fiend thumping,
With which Staff and Cecil the country are scouring and stumping!
The shine of it! Rum-te-tum-rantara I ! Forte ! ! ! Crescendo ! ! ! !
With never a p.p. or delicate diminuendo ,
No sweetness of phrasing, no fineness of touch! It’s just maddening !
Cecil would slay St. Cecilia’s self; but it’s saddening
Staffy to see at such work ; he does look half ashamed of it,
Tired of the row and the rowdiness scarce to be named of it.
Then look at Lawson there, thumbing his “ musical glasses.”
Musical! Shrieky as brayings of heel-lifting asses,
All out of tune, out of time, like cracked bells in a steeple,
Swears he’s my friend and admirer, too— he, of all people I
Hasn’t a notion of harmony ; will play a solo
Always in crotchets. Good gracious 1 Can’t even play Polo
Without some ensemble. Political Symphonies ? Bless us !
While this row goes on P Ah ! I feel that the garment of Nessus,
Spite-poisoned, enwraps me. And yet what a programme I gave them!
My choir 1 If they won’t follow me, who from chaos, shall save them P
Noise ! Noise ! From the foe we expect it, they think it their duty;
But shindy on our side means smash. Tutti, Gentlemen ! tutti!
What was our Tip last week for the Derby ? Those who rightly
interpreted our Fancy Portrait, drawn by the Artist who backed the
horse and gave us the correct tip of Ids tail, must have made a
fortune. Wasn’t he represented as “ going like blazes ” ? and
who, accustomed to interpret oracles, wouldn’t at once have read it
“ Going like St. Blaise is,” eh ? We don’t charge commission, but,
when Gentlemen have made a considerable profit, we expect them to
remember the prophet who made them the millionnaires they now
are. Nod and a wink to Dark Horse.
Loyalty Sairly Tried.—Her Gracious Majesty kept her own
birthday very much to herself by going ” bock agen ” to Scotland,
which was not one of the Happy Returns of the Day, especially as—
The Provost and Baillies of Aberdeen
Were not permitted to see the Queen.
Old Times Revived.—The punishment for the thoroughfare
obstructionists who caused the block in the Strand should be the
Block on Tower Hill.
Specimens of the kind of Man a Fair Maiden is apt to i Specimens of the kind of Man she will perhaps be only
TIPTILT HER NOSE AT WHEN SHE 's EIGHTEEN. I TOO DELIGHTED TO MARRY, WHEN SHE ’s THIRTY.
Between the Two may be seen a likeness of the Ideal of her Dreams, who, young as he is, has already surpassed
Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Tennyson, Lord Wolseley, Mr. Millais, Mr. Santley, Mr. Irving, Mr. Grace, Edward Hanlon, and
everybody else in all their respective achievements. His Name is Talbot Cecil'Stanley de Montmorency leYavasseur
—AND WE HAVE NEVER MET HIM.
THE ENRAGED MUSICIAN.
Scene—The Parliamentary “ Quiet Street.” Grand Old Musician
at Window with Score of ‘‘ Liberal Policy.” Outside, a chari-
vari of conflicting Noises. Enraged Musician loquitur—
Alas ! for my beautiful Symphony, “ Liberal Policy ” !
Hoped to have finished it. Now, of such hopes I the folly see.
Harmony ? Bah! It evades all my efforts, plus Granville’s.
Handel might symphonise clanging cacophonous anvils,
Wagner find motif for tone-poems e’en in tornadoes,
But to blend Phidian friezes and stiff High-Art dados
Were but the simplest of tasks as compared with the labour
Of working out harmony here ! Just as well be the neighbour
Of stithy-swart Yulcan, as live midst this loud charivari
And try to make music ; noctivagant howlings of ’Arry
Are sweet to the gr-r-r-r of that vile monkey-organ of Randy’s !
By Jove, how he grinds ! Oh ! of all duodecimo dandies
That ever played gamin and grinder, he is the most teasing,
And look at his monkey-—how like him!—it’s jumping and. seizing
The hair—what there is—of that broad, burly, blatant big-drummer.
Bang ! Bang! Oh, my ears! Ah, that horrible noisy new-comer
From Leatherdom’s city has wrought me more harm than my foes
have ;
I like, I defend him F If ever my eyes, ears, and nose have
Sustained keen offence, ’tis from Bradlaugh there bumping and
booming
As though he delighted my score to destruction in dooming.
And then that huge organ, like some mad piano-fiend thumping,
With which Staff and Cecil the country are scouring and stumping!
The shine of it! Rum-te-tum-rantara I ! Forte ! ! ! Crescendo ! ! ! !
With never a p.p. or delicate diminuendo ,
No sweetness of phrasing, no fineness of touch! It’s just maddening !
Cecil would slay St. Cecilia’s self; but it’s saddening
Staffy to see at such work ; he does look half ashamed of it,
Tired of the row and the rowdiness scarce to be named of it.
Then look at Lawson there, thumbing his “ musical glasses.”
Musical! Shrieky as brayings of heel-lifting asses,
All out of tune, out of time, like cracked bells in a steeple,
Swears he’s my friend and admirer, too— he, of all people I
Hasn’t a notion of harmony ; will play a solo
Always in crotchets. Good gracious 1 Can’t even play Polo
Without some ensemble. Political Symphonies ? Bless us !
While this row goes on P Ah ! I feel that the garment of Nessus,
Spite-poisoned, enwraps me. And yet what a programme I gave them!
My choir 1 If they won’t follow me, who from chaos, shall save them P
Noise ! Noise ! From the foe we expect it, they think it their duty;
But shindy on our side means smash. Tutti, Gentlemen ! tutti!
What was our Tip last week for the Derby ? Those who rightly
interpreted our Fancy Portrait, drawn by the Artist who backed the
horse and gave us the correct tip of Ids tail, must have made a
fortune. Wasn’t he represented as “ going like blazes ” ? and
who, accustomed to interpret oracles, wouldn’t at once have read it
“ Going like St. Blaise is,” eh ? We don’t charge commission, but,
when Gentlemen have made a considerable profit, we expect them to
remember the prophet who made them the millionnaires they now
are. Nod and a wink to Dark Horse.
Loyalty Sairly Tried.—Her Gracious Majesty kept her own
birthday very much to herself by going ” bock agen ” to Scotland,
which was not one of the Happy Returns of the Day, especially as—
The Provost and Baillies of Aberdeen
Were not permitted to see the Queen.
Old Times Revived.—The punishment for the thoroughfare
obstructionists who caused the block in the Strand should be the
Block on Tower Hill.