DOI Heft:
January 19, 1884
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17756#0033
January 19, 1884.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON GHARIVAPJ
ecartL
i
J
Ache heart, eh ?
Losing the Point.
Cards thrown out by Dumb-Crambo Junior.
A CourtCardRuft'edandLeading Playing a Light Hand
a Single Queen. against Four.
Marking the King.
Jew ds regie.
Winning the Vol.
THE CAPES OF STATE;
OK THE MYSTERY OF HAW ARDEN WOODS.
(.A Fragment of Contemporary Romance.)
The aged Axe-wielder readjusted the flying loops of his “sus-
penders,” turned up the peaks of his colossal collars, and resumed his
outer garments.
At that moment a man was observed crouching behind a huge
trunk, which the Veteran Woodman had lately felled. To pounce
upon him, drag him to his feet, and, with a violent shake, dislodge
! from his person a mysterious oblong parcel, was the work of one
moment, and seven Detectives.
“ What is it?” asked the Woodman, arrested in his al fresco i
toilette by this sudden scuffle
“ One of'em, 1 suspe.t, Sir,” responded the Detective, obscurely,
but respectfully ; lifting and handling gingerly the dropped parcel.
“Nothing of the sore!” ejaculated the prisoner, with gurgling
indignation. “ I’m Smivvins III”
The last words seemed to have a remarkable effect upon the
venerable master of State-and-Wood-craft. He started; a slight!
roseate flush seemed to suffuse his pale and many-furrowed cheeks,
like Aurora’s glow on trenched snow. He looked, hesitatingly, this
way, and that. He felt, with his thumb, the edge of the axe. He
glanced meditatively at the fallen trunk, and thence at the self-
proclaimed Smivvins. He might have stood for the picture of an
embarrassed headsman. Could he possibly meditate ?-but no. He
leaned upon his axe, and motioned the intruder to approach him
“For hevin’s sake be careful, Sir!” ejaculated the Detective.;
“ This ’ere parcel—yark ! ”
The expression thus phonetically approximated was caused by the '
Woodman coolly taking the parcel from his hesitating grasp, and
quietly depositing it in his capacious hat. Then with a genial and
interested smile on his vigorous and venerable countenance, he
deliberately took the much-relieved Smivvins aside, and with him
entered into an animated, but, to the Detectives, inaudible conver-
sation.
* * * * * *
They had talked for an hour. All that the straining ears of the
Detectives could catch was an eager “ Sevenpence,” and a muttered
sound which seemed like “ Sugar.” Then another figure appeared
hastily on the scene, and swiftly approached the absorbed inter-
locutors.
“ Well, Herbert,” said the Woodman, cheerily, “ as you didn’t
turn up, I brought it down alone. If Salisbury goes down as
easily ! ” Then he took what seemed an affectionate farewell of the
smiling Smivvins, slung his axe over his shoulder, hooked his arm
in that of his son, and quietly walked off towards the Castle.
“Well I’m blowed ! ” ejaculated the seven Detectives simul-
taneously, following respectfully, but watchfully, in the rear.
“ Anything happened in Ireland ?—gone wrong in Egypt ?—turned
up inA he Transvaal ? ” queried Herbert, anxiously.
“Not that I know of, Herbert,” responded the old Woodman,
placidly. “ Why do you ask ? ”
“ Oh—why—nothing—only Bug gins yonder came hurriedly to me,
and said there was a mysterious party ’anging about, after no good,
he was sure.”
“Nonsense!” responded the Premier, pleasantly. “They are
so fidgety. I shall remonstrate with Harcourt, and-”
“But,” interrupted his companion. “Buggins said something
about a mysterious parcel, which looked suspiciously like a canister
of-’ ’
The merry laugh, of the Axe-wielder cut him short, “Why,
Herbert,” he said, “you know the Audit Dinner is held to-
morrow, and I am posting myself in a few pertinent facts. As to
J the parcel—look ! ”
He extricated it with some difficulty from his well-worn hat, and,
stripping off its paper wrappage, presented it to his son. On a red
label, in black letters, it bore the following inscription :—
BEST RASPBERRY JAM.
SMIVVINS & CO.,
MANUFACTURERS.
Per 7d. Pot.
A NOVEL IDEA.
Thackeray had the profoundest faith in Doctor Brighton as a
curer of all ills, bodily and mental. It would appear that that
belief exists in the present day, if we may judge from the following,
that lately appeared in the Daily Telegraph :—
LADY, having seen much domestic trouble, and finding the world
cold and hard, wishes to meet with someone of ail amiable, sympathetic
nature, similarly circumstanced, to join her in small house at Brighton.
Let us hope this good Lady will meet with the friendship and
sympathy she desires. But we very much doubt whether she will find
the world less “cold and hard” in a “ small house at Brighton”
than anywhere else.
“Prawns and Pommery” at the Comedy Theatre sounds more
aristocratic than “ Shrimps and Tea.” We seldom get a chance of
seeing first pieces, but it must be a dull audience than cannot soon j
reduce the ‘' Prawns ” to bead and tail: and as for the Pommeiw, that
of course must be a highly Pop-nlar form of entertainment.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON GHARIVAPJ
ecartL
i
J
Ache heart, eh ?
Losing the Point.
Cards thrown out by Dumb-Crambo Junior.
A CourtCardRuft'edandLeading Playing a Light Hand
a Single Queen. against Four.
Marking the King.
Jew ds regie.
Winning the Vol.
THE CAPES OF STATE;
OK THE MYSTERY OF HAW ARDEN WOODS.
(.A Fragment of Contemporary Romance.)
The aged Axe-wielder readjusted the flying loops of his “sus-
penders,” turned up the peaks of his colossal collars, and resumed his
outer garments.
At that moment a man was observed crouching behind a huge
trunk, which the Veteran Woodman had lately felled. To pounce
upon him, drag him to his feet, and, with a violent shake, dislodge
! from his person a mysterious oblong parcel, was the work of one
moment, and seven Detectives.
“ What is it?” asked the Woodman, arrested in his al fresco i
toilette by this sudden scuffle
“ One of'em, 1 suspe.t, Sir,” responded the Detective, obscurely,
but respectfully ; lifting and handling gingerly the dropped parcel.
“Nothing of the sore!” ejaculated the prisoner, with gurgling
indignation. “ I’m Smivvins III”
The last words seemed to have a remarkable effect upon the
venerable master of State-and-Wood-craft. He started; a slight!
roseate flush seemed to suffuse his pale and many-furrowed cheeks,
like Aurora’s glow on trenched snow. He looked, hesitatingly, this
way, and that. He felt, with his thumb, the edge of the axe. He
glanced meditatively at the fallen trunk, and thence at the self-
proclaimed Smivvins. He might have stood for the picture of an
embarrassed headsman. Could he possibly meditate ?-but no. He
leaned upon his axe, and motioned the intruder to approach him
“For hevin’s sake be careful, Sir!” ejaculated the Detective.;
“ This ’ere parcel—yark ! ”
The expression thus phonetically approximated was caused by the '
Woodman coolly taking the parcel from his hesitating grasp, and
quietly depositing it in his capacious hat. Then with a genial and
interested smile on his vigorous and venerable countenance, he
deliberately took the much-relieved Smivvins aside, and with him
entered into an animated, but, to the Detectives, inaudible conver-
sation.
* * * * * *
They had talked for an hour. All that the straining ears of the
Detectives could catch was an eager “ Sevenpence,” and a muttered
sound which seemed like “ Sugar.” Then another figure appeared
hastily on the scene, and swiftly approached the absorbed inter-
locutors.
“ Well, Herbert,” said the Woodman, cheerily, “ as you didn’t
turn up, I brought it down alone. If Salisbury goes down as
easily ! ” Then he took what seemed an affectionate farewell of the
smiling Smivvins, slung his axe over his shoulder, hooked his arm
in that of his son, and quietly walked off towards the Castle.
“Well I’m blowed ! ” ejaculated the seven Detectives simul-
taneously, following respectfully, but watchfully, in the rear.
“ Anything happened in Ireland ?—gone wrong in Egypt ?—turned
up inA he Transvaal ? ” queried Herbert, anxiously.
“Not that I know of, Herbert,” responded the old Woodman,
placidly. “ Why do you ask ? ”
“ Oh—why—nothing—only Bug gins yonder came hurriedly to me,
and said there was a mysterious party ’anging about, after no good,
he was sure.”
“Nonsense!” responded the Premier, pleasantly. “They are
so fidgety. I shall remonstrate with Harcourt, and-”
“But,” interrupted his companion. “Buggins said something
about a mysterious parcel, which looked suspiciously like a canister
of-’ ’
The merry laugh, of the Axe-wielder cut him short, “Why,
Herbert,” he said, “you know the Audit Dinner is held to-
morrow, and I am posting myself in a few pertinent facts. As to
J the parcel—look ! ”
He extricated it with some difficulty from his well-worn hat, and,
stripping off its paper wrappage, presented it to his son. On a red
label, in black letters, it bore the following inscription :—
BEST RASPBERRY JAM.
SMIVVINS & CO.,
MANUFACTURERS.
Per 7d. Pot.
A NOVEL IDEA.
Thackeray had the profoundest faith in Doctor Brighton as a
curer of all ills, bodily and mental. It would appear that that
belief exists in the present day, if we may judge from the following,
that lately appeared in the Daily Telegraph :—
LADY, having seen much domestic trouble, and finding the world
cold and hard, wishes to meet with someone of ail amiable, sympathetic
nature, similarly circumstanced, to join her in small house at Brighton.
Let us hope this good Lady will meet with the friendship and
sympathy she desires. But we very much doubt whether she will find
the world less “cold and hard” in a “ small house at Brighton”
than anywhere else.
“Prawns and Pommery” at the Comedy Theatre sounds more
aristocratic than “ Shrimps and Tea.” We seldom get a chance of
seeing first pieces, but it must be a dull audience than cannot soon j
reduce the ‘' Prawns ” to bead and tail: and as for the Pommeiw, that
of course must be a highly Pop-nlar form of entertainment.