DOI issue:
April 26, 1884
DOI Page / Citation link: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17756#0201
April 26, 1H&4.
PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHAPIVAPI.
NEW NOTION.
Last Saturday, at the Birmingham
Police Court, when the suspected
Dynamiters were brought up for fur-
ther examination, Mr. Avery, one of
the Magistrates, is reported to have
asked Mr. Farndale (appearing for
the Crown), “whether, if another
remand were granted, he would be
able to proceed seriously with the
case?” Why “seriously”? Had
Mr. Farndale been treating the
matter as a joke up to this time ? or
is there a comic way as well as a
serious way of conducting a Prelimi-
nary Inquiry before a Magistrate at
Birmingham, and Mr. Farndale was
only being called upon to name which
style he meant to choose, and name
it beforehand, so that the Magistrates,
if he selected the comic method, might
come prepared with repartees, puns,
and sparkling witticisms ? Odd ques-
tion, not usually put by every—no,
we mean, by Avery Magistrate.
BARTER EXTRAORDINARY.
We see strange things occasionally
in the Exchange and Mart, but we
never saw anything stranger than
the following from the Daily News:—
WANTED.—Would a Family GIVE
a BED to a French Youth in
return for FRENCH CONYERSATION,
near Bond Street? References exchanged.
We have heard of giving new
lamps for old ones, but the ex-
changing of feather-beds for French
phrases, conversation for counter-
panes, and Parisian accent for
pillows, strikes us as being a decided
novelty. Besides, why should the
presentation take place “near Bond
Street” ? Why by a family? We
confess to being altogether puzzled.
AFTER THE EASTER HOLIDAYS.
Master Randolph. “On, I say, Drttmmy, I’ve had such a Jolly Time of it at Birmingham!
Such Larks! And, I say, Gorsty, I mentioned your Name to ’em, too.1”
A COLLOQUY.
Scene—The Pvernier's Study. Enter Mr. Bull.
Mr. Bull. It is always unpleasing for me to have to break in upon
the repose, especially the Easter repose, of a—ahem!—a Sick Lion, if
I may borrow from our mutual friend, Sir William Harcourt. I
come, Mr. Gladstone, to rouse you—not from your bed, but from your
lethargy ; to bring you, not your shaving implements, but your hot
water. I am pleased to observe, from that flashing eye, that you are
already aroused. Your mane—to carry on the leonine metaphor—
stands erect, almost as though Northcote himself were opposite you.
Mr. Gladstone. I assure you, Mr. Bull, I am full of energy. My
thoughts are preternaturally active at this moment.
Mr. Bull (heartily). I am glad to hear it. That is what the
country wants. Everybody calls on you to do something.
Mr. Gladstone. And I will do something, too,
Mr. Bull. Oh, this is glorious! But then I always knew you
were sure, even if you were slow. You have come to a definite deter-
mination ? You have decided to take action at once ?
Mr. Gladstone. At once. I have come to a grave determination
on an important question.
Mr. Bull. Then there is an end of my anxiety ! It is not too late—
I will not believe it is too late—to rescue the heroic Gordon from
the—ahem !—Berberous savages of the Soudan, to-
Mr. Gladstone. Gordon ! the Soudan! You misunderstand me.
Were you under the impression that it was with reference to the
Khartoum difficulty I had come to a decision ?
Mr. Bull (suddenly becoming low-spirited again). Why, I thought
I certainly was hoping- Did not you say that you had “just
come to a grave determination on an important question ” ?
Mr. Gladstone. So I have.
Mr. Bull (somewhat testily). Then what is the important question,
and what is your grave determination ?
Mr. Gladstone. Well, you see, the Soudan is not in North Wales
nowhere near it, in fact—and—(brightly)—I’ve decided to give a
peal of bells to the new Church steeple at Paenmaenmawr !
A GREETING TO EDINBURGH.
[The University of Edinburgh has just celebrated her Tercentenary.]
Tercentenary ! That’s noble! How the thoughts will backward
flow
Of the ardent antiquarian, to three hundred years ago.
Shorter flight our memory takes us. Years have passed, say twenty-
three,
Since we called ourselves a “ Civis” of that University.
Then would Jimmy Goodsir lecture—great anatomist, I vow ;
Then gave Turner demonstrations. Who, I wonder, gives them
now ?
Oh, those everlasting muscles, with the long names meant to vex us,
And the nerves that drove us frantic, guessing at the Lumbar plexus.
There was Bennett, “ the blood-funker ” ; yet ’twas said, when one
fine day
He fell iU, Professor Miller bled him in the blandest way.
Chemistry by Lyon Playfair, who did wondrous tricks in class;
Simpson with his chloroform came, in two senses full of gas.
Botany saw “ Woody Firre ” lecture in his curious way,
Blackie-- But, Avhy bless me, Blackie ’s gallivanting to this day.
So the shadows pass that ever keep “ Auld Reekie’s” memory green.
When the “Pump” had more attractions than the lecture-room, I
ween.
Now the South a modest tumbler fills in honour of the North:
Here’s a health, then, to the University upon the Forth.
Conservative Question.—Why, on Primrose Day, did we not
assemble in our thousands on Primrose Hill ?
PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHAPIVAPI.
NEW NOTION.
Last Saturday, at the Birmingham
Police Court, when the suspected
Dynamiters were brought up for fur-
ther examination, Mr. Avery, one of
the Magistrates, is reported to have
asked Mr. Farndale (appearing for
the Crown), “whether, if another
remand were granted, he would be
able to proceed seriously with the
case?” Why “seriously”? Had
Mr. Farndale been treating the
matter as a joke up to this time ? or
is there a comic way as well as a
serious way of conducting a Prelimi-
nary Inquiry before a Magistrate at
Birmingham, and Mr. Farndale was
only being called upon to name which
style he meant to choose, and name
it beforehand, so that the Magistrates,
if he selected the comic method, might
come prepared with repartees, puns,
and sparkling witticisms ? Odd ques-
tion, not usually put by every—no,
we mean, by Avery Magistrate.
BARTER EXTRAORDINARY.
We see strange things occasionally
in the Exchange and Mart, but we
never saw anything stranger than
the following from the Daily News:—
WANTED.—Would a Family GIVE
a BED to a French Youth in
return for FRENCH CONYERSATION,
near Bond Street? References exchanged.
We have heard of giving new
lamps for old ones, but the ex-
changing of feather-beds for French
phrases, conversation for counter-
panes, and Parisian accent for
pillows, strikes us as being a decided
novelty. Besides, why should the
presentation take place “near Bond
Street” ? Why by a family? We
confess to being altogether puzzled.
AFTER THE EASTER HOLIDAYS.
Master Randolph. “On, I say, Drttmmy, I’ve had such a Jolly Time of it at Birmingham!
Such Larks! And, I say, Gorsty, I mentioned your Name to ’em, too.1”
A COLLOQUY.
Scene—The Pvernier's Study. Enter Mr. Bull.
Mr. Bull. It is always unpleasing for me to have to break in upon
the repose, especially the Easter repose, of a—ahem!—a Sick Lion, if
I may borrow from our mutual friend, Sir William Harcourt. I
come, Mr. Gladstone, to rouse you—not from your bed, but from your
lethargy ; to bring you, not your shaving implements, but your hot
water. I am pleased to observe, from that flashing eye, that you are
already aroused. Your mane—to carry on the leonine metaphor—
stands erect, almost as though Northcote himself were opposite you.
Mr. Gladstone. I assure you, Mr. Bull, I am full of energy. My
thoughts are preternaturally active at this moment.
Mr. Bull (heartily). I am glad to hear it. That is what the
country wants. Everybody calls on you to do something.
Mr. Gladstone. And I will do something, too,
Mr. Bull. Oh, this is glorious! But then I always knew you
were sure, even if you were slow. You have come to a definite deter-
mination ? You have decided to take action at once ?
Mr. Gladstone. At once. I have come to a grave determination
on an important question.
Mr. Bull. Then there is an end of my anxiety ! It is not too late—
I will not believe it is too late—to rescue the heroic Gordon from
the—ahem !—Berberous savages of the Soudan, to-
Mr. Gladstone. Gordon ! the Soudan! You misunderstand me.
Were you under the impression that it was with reference to the
Khartoum difficulty I had come to a decision ?
Mr. Bull (suddenly becoming low-spirited again). Why, I thought
I certainly was hoping- Did not you say that you had “just
come to a grave determination on an important question ” ?
Mr. Gladstone. So I have.
Mr. Bull (somewhat testily). Then what is the important question,
and what is your grave determination ?
Mr. Gladstone. Well, you see, the Soudan is not in North Wales
nowhere near it, in fact—and—(brightly)—I’ve decided to give a
peal of bells to the new Church steeple at Paenmaenmawr !
A GREETING TO EDINBURGH.
[The University of Edinburgh has just celebrated her Tercentenary.]
Tercentenary ! That’s noble! How the thoughts will backward
flow
Of the ardent antiquarian, to three hundred years ago.
Shorter flight our memory takes us. Years have passed, say twenty-
three,
Since we called ourselves a “ Civis” of that University.
Then would Jimmy Goodsir lecture—great anatomist, I vow ;
Then gave Turner demonstrations. Who, I wonder, gives them
now ?
Oh, those everlasting muscles, with the long names meant to vex us,
And the nerves that drove us frantic, guessing at the Lumbar plexus.
There was Bennett, “ the blood-funker ” ; yet ’twas said, when one
fine day
He fell iU, Professor Miller bled him in the blandest way.
Chemistry by Lyon Playfair, who did wondrous tricks in class;
Simpson with his chloroform came, in two senses full of gas.
Botany saw “ Woody Firre ” lecture in his curious way,
Blackie-- But, Avhy bless me, Blackie ’s gallivanting to this day.
So the shadows pass that ever keep “ Auld Reekie’s” memory green.
When the “Pump” had more attractions than the lecture-room, I
ween.
Now the South a modest tumbler fills in honour of the North:
Here’s a health, then, to the University upon the Forth.
Conservative Question.—Why, on Primrose Day, did we not
assemble in our thousands on Primrose Hill ?