DOI Heft:
July 28, 1883
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17755#0060
48
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [July 28,
“ His hair is grey, but not with years,
Nor grew it white
In a single night,
As men's have grown from sudden fears. Byron.
Newly-arrived Yankee {sympathetically, to Sir Gorgius’spet Flunkey).
“I guess, young Man, you’ve seen a deal of Trouble ! ”
A HANDBOOK OF KNOWLEDGE.
*No. XI.—The Dust-Cart.
Q. What is a Dust-Cart ?
A. A Public nuisance.
Q. But was it designed with that end in Anew P
A. By no means. It was designed as a nuisance-remover, and
even claims to be so. It is this which makes it perhaps the most
inadequate and exasperating of the minor appliances of civilisation.
Q. How did this state of things come about ?
A. It would take long to tell in detail. But given greedy mono-
polists, inefficient and self-seeking Local Authorities, insolent
understrappers, and a too, too patient Public, and you have the ele-
ments of this and many other miscarriages of public justice.
Q. What is the ostensible function of the Dust-Cart P
A. The removal from premises of Private Citizens of the miscella-
neous accumulations of refuse conveniently generalised as “Dust.”
Q. How is this function exercised ?
A. By methods ingeniously annoying and adroitly evasive.
Q. How are these carried out P
| presence known—to people in the next parish. But, at heart, I am
persuaded he would resent the vulgarisation of his matchless faculty i
for shindy, by “ hooking it to some useful end.”
Q. At least, it cannot be difficult to ascertain the whereabouts of
a Dustman ?
A. On the contrary, a Dustman is as difficult to track as a cuckoo, I
or a will-o’-the-wisp. His yells make morn hideous for hours before
his bodily presence becomes visible to the expectant householder.
Q. But if you send for him ?
A. He goes on shouting, and does not come.
Q. And if you are fortunate enough to arrest him in the middle of
a shout, and opposite your threshold ?
A. He at once discovers that his cart is full, and that he can’t take
you till next round.
Q. Why then go on shouting ?
A. Presumably to keep his voice in training.
Q. But once having fairly caught your Dustman, what ensues ?
A. A long negotiation between him and yourself or your repre-
sentative.
Q. Why is this necessary P*
A. The Dustman is a person of polemical proclivities, and of
punctilious tastes. Many points and difficulties suggest themselves
to his discursive fancy and pessimistic bias. To remove the dust
from your bin into his cart seems a simple process—to you. His
views are entirely different. He eyes your house with critical dis-
favour, and suggests that it is “ a orkurd ’ole as ever he see.” The
quality of your “Dust,” too, meets with stern disparagement as
“muck.” He doubts whether he ought to touch it, but if he should
so far favour you, he presumes you ’ll consider it “ wuth a hextry bob
at least.” Should you not see it in the same light, his hoarse offen-
siveness will develop itself m aggravated ways. He will make
scarcely veiled observations of an extremely uncomplimentary nature
respecting “some on ’em.” Should he be asked what he means,
his sardonic reply is “Oh, nothink!—same as you do, seeminly. ,
No think/or nothink ’ill satisfy even you,” he supposes.
Q. And when you have finally secured his services P
A. His object is naturally to make them as inadequate and as I
vexatious as possible P
Q. How does he effect this P
A. By making as much “ mess ” as he can—trampling over flower-
beds and clean flags or floors wherever possible, shouting forth
unpleasant remarks not always unmixed with oaths, and winding up
probably by going off before your bin is half empty, on the plea that
his cart is full.
Q. What is the consequence of these singular arrangements P
A. That “ Dust” is the incubus of the British householder, espe-
cially in the suburbs. It is an illustration of the dilemma to which
the ordinary citizen is frequently reduced by the joint action of
Authority and Monopoly.
Q. How so ?
A. Authority issues an edict, Monopoly bargains with Authority ;
for the profit resulting from putting it into force. The Citizen’s
business is to obey, and pay. He pays certainly once, probably twice
or thrice. His convenience is the last to be consulted. His only
appeal lies to Authority or Monopoly, and such appeal, always
troublesome, is generally futile. Q. E. D.
Q. But could not these evils be obviated ?
A. There is perhaps only one real difficulty in the way.
Q. What is that ?
A. The ease with which they could be remedied.
A SCRUMPTIOUS RAILWAY CAR.
Colonel Mapleson’s special train of “Mann Boudoir-Cars,” the
Pall Mall Gazette informs us, is to have a special Car for the Diva
Patti. It is fifty-five feet long, with ‘ ‘ a large drawing-room thirteen
and a half feet long, furnished in amaranth wood, and embossed
leather, profusely decorated, gold predominating.” This isn’t a
Mann Boudoir-Car ; it’s a Woman Boudoir-C’ar; a Triumphal Car,
too, with a vengeance.
Air,—“ The Low-Backed Car A
A. Through the agency of terrible myrmidons known colloquially
as “ Dustmen.”
Q. What are these beings ?
i A. Men of ^ ill-favoured. aspect, and often almost demoniac
demeanour. The gifts required in a Dustman are various ; the chief
essential, however, is a hideously hoarse and stentorian voice.
Q. Why so ?
A. The first—and it would sometimes seem the sole—duty of a
Dustman is to make a noise.
Q. With what object ?
A. With the Dustman, as with the street-boy—“noise for noise’s
sake ” is probably the unconsciously guiding principle. It may be
that in an argumentative mood he would assert that he howls forth
his ear-torturing crescendos of cacophony with the view of making his
And Patti, she,
While sipping tea,
To herself was heard to sing :—
“Oh, I sit in a Boudoir-Car,
An expensive and gay Di-va !
I lounge and I chat in
Chairs gold, blue, and satin,
In Mapleson’s Boudoir-Car ! ”
It is not yet fixed when Madame Patti is to appear at the Fisheries
in her new entertainment, entitled “ The Diva and the Belle—all
in one,”-when she will simply appear as herself. For this unique
performance, it it whispered that Madame Patti will receive eight
hundred pounds a show. That’s what “A Mere Song” means now-
a-days,—to Patti.
"When last I heard of Patti,
She was well on her way
To sing somewhere
She didn’t care
As long as folks would pay.
The Queen of Song was borne
along
Without a ioltina- sorinsr
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [July 28,
“ His hair is grey, but not with years,
Nor grew it white
In a single night,
As men's have grown from sudden fears. Byron.
Newly-arrived Yankee {sympathetically, to Sir Gorgius’spet Flunkey).
“I guess, young Man, you’ve seen a deal of Trouble ! ”
A HANDBOOK OF KNOWLEDGE.
*No. XI.—The Dust-Cart.
Q. What is a Dust-Cart ?
A. A Public nuisance.
Q. But was it designed with that end in Anew P
A. By no means. It was designed as a nuisance-remover, and
even claims to be so. It is this which makes it perhaps the most
inadequate and exasperating of the minor appliances of civilisation.
Q. How did this state of things come about ?
A. It would take long to tell in detail. But given greedy mono-
polists, inefficient and self-seeking Local Authorities, insolent
understrappers, and a too, too patient Public, and you have the ele-
ments of this and many other miscarriages of public justice.
Q. What is the ostensible function of the Dust-Cart P
A. The removal from premises of Private Citizens of the miscella-
neous accumulations of refuse conveniently generalised as “Dust.”
Q. How is this function exercised ?
A. By methods ingeniously annoying and adroitly evasive.
Q. How are these carried out P
| presence known—to people in the next parish. But, at heart, I am
persuaded he would resent the vulgarisation of his matchless faculty i
for shindy, by “ hooking it to some useful end.”
Q. At least, it cannot be difficult to ascertain the whereabouts of
a Dustman ?
A. On the contrary, a Dustman is as difficult to track as a cuckoo, I
or a will-o’-the-wisp. His yells make morn hideous for hours before
his bodily presence becomes visible to the expectant householder.
Q. But if you send for him ?
A. He goes on shouting, and does not come.
Q. And if you are fortunate enough to arrest him in the middle of
a shout, and opposite your threshold ?
A. He at once discovers that his cart is full, and that he can’t take
you till next round.
Q. Why then go on shouting ?
A. Presumably to keep his voice in training.
Q. But once having fairly caught your Dustman, what ensues ?
A. A long negotiation between him and yourself or your repre-
sentative.
Q. Why is this necessary P*
A. The Dustman is a person of polemical proclivities, and of
punctilious tastes. Many points and difficulties suggest themselves
to his discursive fancy and pessimistic bias. To remove the dust
from your bin into his cart seems a simple process—to you. His
views are entirely different. He eyes your house with critical dis-
favour, and suggests that it is “ a orkurd ’ole as ever he see.” The
quality of your “Dust,” too, meets with stern disparagement as
“muck.” He doubts whether he ought to touch it, but if he should
so far favour you, he presumes you ’ll consider it “ wuth a hextry bob
at least.” Should you not see it in the same light, his hoarse offen-
siveness will develop itself m aggravated ways. He will make
scarcely veiled observations of an extremely uncomplimentary nature
respecting “some on ’em.” Should he be asked what he means,
his sardonic reply is “Oh, nothink!—same as you do, seeminly. ,
No think/or nothink ’ill satisfy even you,” he supposes.
Q. And when you have finally secured his services P
A. His object is naturally to make them as inadequate and as I
vexatious as possible P
Q. How does he effect this P
A. By making as much “ mess ” as he can—trampling over flower-
beds and clean flags or floors wherever possible, shouting forth
unpleasant remarks not always unmixed with oaths, and winding up
probably by going off before your bin is half empty, on the plea that
his cart is full.
Q. What is the consequence of these singular arrangements P
A. That “ Dust” is the incubus of the British householder, espe-
cially in the suburbs. It is an illustration of the dilemma to which
the ordinary citizen is frequently reduced by the joint action of
Authority and Monopoly.
Q. How so ?
A. Authority issues an edict, Monopoly bargains with Authority ;
for the profit resulting from putting it into force. The Citizen’s
business is to obey, and pay. He pays certainly once, probably twice
or thrice. His convenience is the last to be consulted. His only
appeal lies to Authority or Monopoly, and such appeal, always
troublesome, is generally futile. Q. E. D.
Q. But could not these evils be obviated ?
A. There is perhaps only one real difficulty in the way.
Q. What is that ?
A. The ease with which they could be remedied.
A SCRUMPTIOUS RAILWAY CAR.
Colonel Mapleson’s special train of “Mann Boudoir-Cars,” the
Pall Mall Gazette informs us, is to have a special Car for the Diva
Patti. It is fifty-five feet long, with ‘ ‘ a large drawing-room thirteen
and a half feet long, furnished in amaranth wood, and embossed
leather, profusely decorated, gold predominating.” This isn’t a
Mann Boudoir-Car ; it’s a Woman Boudoir-C’ar; a Triumphal Car,
too, with a vengeance.
Air,—“ The Low-Backed Car A
A. Through the agency of terrible myrmidons known colloquially
as “ Dustmen.”
Q. What are these beings ?
i A. Men of ^ ill-favoured. aspect, and often almost demoniac
demeanour. The gifts required in a Dustman are various ; the chief
essential, however, is a hideously hoarse and stentorian voice.
Q. Why so ?
A. The first—and it would sometimes seem the sole—duty of a
Dustman is to make a noise.
Q. With what object ?
A. With the Dustman, as with the street-boy—“noise for noise’s
sake ” is probably the unconsciously guiding principle. It may be
that in an argumentative mood he would assert that he howls forth
his ear-torturing crescendos of cacophony with the view of making his
And Patti, she,
While sipping tea,
To herself was heard to sing :—
“Oh, I sit in a Boudoir-Car,
An expensive and gay Di-va !
I lounge and I chat in
Chairs gold, blue, and satin,
In Mapleson’s Boudoir-Car ! ”
It is not yet fixed when Madame Patti is to appear at the Fisheries
in her new entertainment, entitled “ The Diva and the Belle—all
in one,”-when she will simply appear as herself. For this unique
performance, it it whispered that Madame Patti will receive eight
hundred pounds a show. That’s what “A Mere Song” means now-
a-days,—to Patti.
"When last I heard of Patti,
She was well on her way
To sing somewhere
She didn’t care
As long as folks would pay.
The Queen of Song was borne
along
Without a ioltina- sorinsr