DOI Heft:
June 21, 1884
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17756#0296
June 21, 1884.]
PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVALU.
291
A PARK PUZZLE.
Mounted Policeman is engaged in earnest conversation with Elderly Equestrian. Puzzle—Has he Arrested a
Fenian, or a Horse-stealer ?
Solution, given for once.—Ho, he is only collecting Subscriptions for Police Orphanage Entertainment—which
SEEMS TO BE THE PRINCIPAL OBJECT THE MOUNTED POLICE OF KOTTEN ROW HAVE IN VIEW.
departing’ crowd would certainly be called in the English translation
of the libretto of an Italian Opera), so he braces up his nerves, pro-
duces a silver coin, which he exchanges for a red token, passes the
turnstile, and finds himself in—
The Shilling Dinner! !!
On either side of him are thin bench-like tables, plentifully gar-
nished with crumbs and dirty glasses. There is a bar at one end,
and a kitchen, seen through an open window, at the other. When
the eyes of the Health-seeker have grown accustomed to the bustle
of some Waitresses of uncertain ages, in what appear to be nightcaps,
who seem excessively fatigued, he notices that amongst the diners are
many well-known faces. He recognises, for instance, that old gourmet,
■Jackson of the Columbus Club. In the coffee-room of the palatial
establishment just mentioned Jackson is the master of his slave the
Steward, and the terror of all the waiters, from the Head downwards.
If his soup is cold, if his entree is overdone, if they have dared to send
up mint-sauce with his lamb (“ A mistake, Sir ! It absolutely ruins
the flavour of the meat! ”), Jackson’s wrath is so great that its
echoes can be heard in Charles Street and St. .James’s Scpiare. In
ipite of this, here is Jackson, with his eye-glass and his white hair,
md his hat on one side, eating the Shilling Dinner ! He smiles a
rolicksome smile as he catches the eye of the Health-seeker, and
devours a rather messy plate of boiled fish as if the proceeding was
replete with humour, but he keeps his back upon the entrance and
the peering crowd beyond! Next he attempts a jocular flirtation
with a Veteran Waitress who has brought him some mutton, cut very
near the knuckle, and assumes the air of a Don Giovanni who is “ dog
enough ” to sacrifice his digestion to his love of adventure. The Vete-
ran Waitress (who probably is the grandmother of other waitresses)
is surprised and flattered at .Jackson’s unexpected gallantry, and
brings him a piece of dry pudding dabbed down upon a plate, with
much old-fashioned coquetry, upon which .Jackson orders, with a
knowing wink, a penny-worth of cheese. Then the detected and
economical gourmet looks round with a glass in his eye and a smile
on his lips, on the chance of recognising some face he knows by sight,
who, if so recognised, will be then and there invited to assist in the
capital jest of Jackson detected in stealthily eating, a la Don Juan,
a Shilling Dinner ! By this time the Health-seeker will himself have
finished his messy portion of boiled fish, his mutton cut very near
the knuckle, and his dry bit of pudding dabbed down upon a plate.
He will go out, after putting some pence in a sort of wooden pyramid
for the benefit of the Veteran Waitresses, and walk to the end of the
Gallery. He will here be attracted by the wax presentment of some
food under a glass-case, which will excite his envy. On closer
examination, the Health-seeker will find that the viands at this
moment so strangely fascinating to him compose the dietary of a
convict sentenced to a term of hard labour!
Very Little “More where that came from.”—In the Daily
Telegraph we read that, at the Earl of Clarendon’s sale, Pommery
’74, realised from 140s. to 148s., and at a sale at Christie’s, the same
wine was sold for 150s. per doz. As John Leech’s Farmer said,
“ Oi’d loike zum o’ that in a moog.” And to think that we should
have to pay twenty shillings a bottle for this at a Restaurant’s, and
then—not get it, there being a mysterious process called “ blending,”
which impairs the quality without diminishing the price. A
“Blender,”—in this sense, at least, as there is fair blending,—ought
to be punished as if he were a “ Welsher,” or something like it,—at
least, that’s our view of such a “ Blender.”
“A Catch” arranged as a duet for Lord Granville and Mr.
Gladstone :—
A note, a note, a note from Ferry.
We have arranged it nicely, very.
But it is only tempo-rerry !
The Representation of Women.—Plenty of it already—in the
photograph shop-windows.
Shocking Bad Husbandry.—Baby-Farming.
PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVALU.
291
A PARK PUZZLE.
Mounted Policeman is engaged in earnest conversation with Elderly Equestrian. Puzzle—Has he Arrested a
Fenian, or a Horse-stealer ?
Solution, given for once.—Ho, he is only collecting Subscriptions for Police Orphanage Entertainment—which
SEEMS TO BE THE PRINCIPAL OBJECT THE MOUNTED POLICE OF KOTTEN ROW HAVE IN VIEW.
departing’ crowd would certainly be called in the English translation
of the libretto of an Italian Opera), so he braces up his nerves, pro-
duces a silver coin, which he exchanges for a red token, passes the
turnstile, and finds himself in—
The Shilling Dinner! !!
On either side of him are thin bench-like tables, plentifully gar-
nished with crumbs and dirty glasses. There is a bar at one end,
and a kitchen, seen through an open window, at the other. When
the eyes of the Health-seeker have grown accustomed to the bustle
of some Waitresses of uncertain ages, in what appear to be nightcaps,
who seem excessively fatigued, he notices that amongst the diners are
many well-known faces. He recognises, for instance, that old gourmet,
■Jackson of the Columbus Club. In the coffee-room of the palatial
establishment just mentioned Jackson is the master of his slave the
Steward, and the terror of all the waiters, from the Head downwards.
If his soup is cold, if his entree is overdone, if they have dared to send
up mint-sauce with his lamb (“ A mistake, Sir ! It absolutely ruins
the flavour of the meat! ”), Jackson’s wrath is so great that its
echoes can be heard in Charles Street and St. .James’s Scpiare. In
ipite of this, here is Jackson, with his eye-glass and his white hair,
md his hat on one side, eating the Shilling Dinner ! He smiles a
rolicksome smile as he catches the eye of the Health-seeker, and
devours a rather messy plate of boiled fish as if the proceeding was
replete with humour, but he keeps his back upon the entrance and
the peering crowd beyond! Next he attempts a jocular flirtation
with a Veteran Waitress who has brought him some mutton, cut very
near the knuckle, and assumes the air of a Don Giovanni who is “ dog
enough ” to sacrifice his digestion to his love of adventure. The Vete-
ran Waitress (who probably is the grandmother of other waitresses)
is surprised and flattered at .Jackson’s unexpected gallantry, and
brings him a piece of dry pudding dabbed down upon a plate, with
much old-fashioned coquetry, upon which .Jackson orders, with a
knowing wink, a penny-worth of cheese. Then the detected and
economical gourmet looks round with a glass in his eye and a smile
on his lips, on the chance of recognising some face he knows by sight,
who, if so recognised, will be then and there invited to assist in the
capital jest of Jackson detected in stealthily eating, a la Don Juan,
a Shilling Dinner ! By this time the Health-seeker will himself have
finished his messy portion of boiled fish, his mutton cut very near
the knuckle, and his dry bit of pudding dabbed down upon a plate.
He will go out, after putting some pence in a sort of wooden pyramid
for the benefit of the Veteran Waitresses, and walk to the end of the
Gallery. He will here be attracted by the wax presentment of some
food under a glass-case, which will excite his envy. On closer
examination, the Health-seeker will find that the viands at this
moment so strangely fascinating to him compose the dietary of a
convict sentenced to a term of hard labour!
Very Little “More where that came from.”—In the Daily
Telegraph we read that, at the Earl of Clarendon’s sale, Pommery
’74, realised from 140s. to 148s., and at a sale at Christie’s, the same
wine was sold for 150s. per doz. As John Leech’s Farmer said,
“ Oi’d loike zum o’ that in a moog.” And to think that we should
have to pay twenty shillings a bottle for this at a Restaurant’s, and
then—not get it, there being a mysterious process called “ blending,”
which impairs the quality without diminishing the price. A
“Blender,”—in this sense, at least, as there is fair blending,—ought
to be punished as if he were a “ Welsher,” or something like it,—at
least, that’s our view of such a “ Blender.”
“A Catch” arranged as a duet for Lord Granville and Mr.
Gladstone :—
A note, a note, a note from Ferry.
We have arranged it nicely, very.
But it is only tempo-rerry !
The Representation of Women.—Plenty of it already—in the
photograph shop-windows.
Shocking Bad Husbandry.—Baby-Farming.