DOI Heft:
August 23, 1884
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17757#0093
86
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, (August 23, 1884
BRITISH TOURISTS ABROAD,
“Ask him if he’s got the Directory, Maria.”
“ Er—ESKER VOHS AVEY LE DlRECTOIRE, MONSIEUR?”
“Oh, non, Madame. Nods avons la Republique, a present!”
A NEW DANGER.
Doubtless, as the Poet says,—
“ —Evil is wrought
By want of thought
As well as by want of heart.”
But there are certain thoughtless imbecilities so mis-
chievous, and so inexcusable, that they almost merit
punishment as crimes. Mr. T. G. Braden, Consulting-
Surgeon for Lewes Infirmary, describes a ghastly and
dangerous wound inflicted upon a workman on the line
by a bottle, thrown from a train in motion by some
unspeakable noodle of a passenger—name, unluckily,
unknown. Society will have to protect itself in some
way against the thoughtless and callously reckless fools
whose presence among us is almost more dangerous
than that of rogues and ruffians, because these latter the
Police can watch, and the law punish ; whilst the idiots
who delight in flinging about orange-peel, lighted
fusees, bottles, and other missiles, are difficult to detect,
and not easy adequately to deal with when detected.
Anyone who should give information which might lead
to the discovery of the mischievous booby who flung that
bottle, and dangerously wounded—possibly killed—that
poor workman, should be looked upon as a blameless in-
former, who deserved well of his country. Inadvertence
is possible to all, but there are certain forms of care-
lessness which deserve the Cat.
Very Like a Whale—Story,
That fight between a hu^e whale and a cable
Outdoes the Kraken-stories of old fable.
One thing is clear, — if truth friend Ivendal tell,
Jonah ’s outmarvelled—and avenged as well!
As for his whale, the Public beats it hollow,
Having a more prodigious power of swallow.
Sweet Revenge.—“Cane” is a word associated, in
the schoolboy mind at least, rather with beating than
with being beaten. But the Sugar-Cane, it seems, has
an enemy which bids fair to beet it out of the field.
The world’s “light” may come from various sources,
but its “ sweetness,” it appears, is mainly owing to beet-
root. And now the sugar-cane growers are calling out
for Protection ! Fancy any kind of cane requiring to be
protected ! The Sugar-Cane may not be the true Orbilian
Stick ; but that any member of the odious Cane family
should be in trouble, must be sweet news to all victims of
Orbilius plagosus.
MEMORIES OE THE GREAT MATCH.
{By an Enthusiastic Old Willow-Wielder.)
_ [England v. Australia at the Oval, August 11, 12, and 13, 1884. Austra-
lians made 551 in First Innings ; England 346 in First Innings, and 85 in
Second, with Two Wickets down.]
Sensational Cricket! By Jove, I should say so! How thundering
shifty the fortune of war is,
At least at the wickets. Just ask England’s Captain, the pride of
the Kentish men, hearty Lord Harris.
But Cricket would not be so stirring a game if its tutelar goddess
were not such a shifty one.
Drawn game ? Why, of course. Little chance of a finish ’gainst
such a huge score as five hundred and fifty-one !
Those Cornstalks have luck—and deserve it right well, though a
pretty girl—English—declared it was horrid
That they won the toss, on so perfect a wicket, with sky so true-blue,
and with weather so torrid.
Pheugh! didn’t it blaze ? E’en the Scorer looked roasted and quite
lost his temper, perched up in his snuggery.
Iced-d.rinks were no good, nor were cabbage-leaf hats, nor the
comical forms of pith-helmet and puggaree !
The batsmen and fielders appeared like grey mushrooms. Reminded
us all of that great match in Pickwick,
A wonder they kept so alert, and so prompt at a smart bit of stump-
ing, a catch, or a “ snick ” quick !
But you might as well try to befiuster an iceberg, or make turtle-
soup out of nettles and burdock
As run the barometer up to a hundred to check the two hundred and
odd of cool Murdoch.
McDonnel and Scott also put on a lot, two hundred and five, said
the score-hoard, between ’em.
And then the queer larks at the end of their innings! A humorist
well might have paid to have seen ’em.
Smart Lyttleton leaving the wickets and bowling, and Grace’s
black nob at the stumps gaily bobbing. _
And when Peate and IJlyett had pelted in vain, getting four wickets
slick with their snapping and lobbing!
As for W. G., if “ all over the shop ” has old meanings, he gave it
some new illustrations ;
Our best all-round Cricketer yet, by a lot, and quite cheerily equal
to all situations,
Hard luck his “ run-out,” such a very close thing ! And if Pullen
was right, both my optics were missing,
But Empires are human, and do their square best, and I don’t see
the wisdom of howling and hissing,
Things looked rather dicky, with Steel “ leg before,” and a sort of
a funk having settled stout Ulyeit,
But steady young Scqtton he put a good lot on, Read hit right and
left, and we might have the pull yet.
By Jove, how the Surreyites clapped as their favourite piled up his
score, and indeed I will trouble you
To point to much cleaner and pluckier play than the hundred and
seventeen of W. W. !
Last wicket but one,—for he’d been out of luck,—and he treated the
“ Demon’s ” best ball like a pellet,
Whilst Scotton stayed on till his ninety was won. A rare good bit
of play, and ’tis pleasant to tell it.
A draw—oh! of course ; but by no means disgraceful to anxious
Lord Harris’s lot when ’twas ended.
They’d had leather-hunting in tropical heat for well nigh two whole
days, and good fortune befriended
Their rivals all through. But the cricket was true from start up to
finish. Each Cornstalk’s a hot ’un,
Anri Murdoch’s a marvel; but England may dare to put Read
’gainst McDonnel. with Scott compare Scotton.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, (August 23, 1884
BRITISH TOURISTS ABROAD,
“Ask him if he’s got the Directory, Maria.”
“ Er—ESKER VOHS AVEY LE DlRECTOIRE, MONSIEUR?”
“Oh, non, Madame. Nods avons la Republique, a present!”
A NEW DANGER.
Doubtless, as the Poet says,—
“ —Evil is wrought
By want of thought
As well as by want of heart.”
But there are certain thoughtless imbecilities so mis-
chievous, and so inexcusable, that they almost merit
punishment as crimes. Mr. T. G. Braden, Consulting-
Surgeon for Lewes Infirmary, describes a ghastly and
dangerous wound inflicted upon a workman on the line
by a bottle, thrown from a train in motion by some
unspeakable noodle of a passenger—name, unluckily,
unknown. Society will have to protect itself in some
way against the thoughtless and callously reckless fools
whose presence among us is almost more dangerous
than that of rogues and ruffians, because these latter the
Police can watch, and the law punish ; whilst the idiots
who delight in flinging about orange-peel, lighted
fusees, bottles, and other missiles, are difficult to detect,
and not easy adequately to deal with when detected.
Anyone who should give information which might lead
to the discovery of the mischievous booby who flung that
bottle, and dangerously wounded—possibly killed—that
poor workman, should be looked upon as a blameless in-
former, who deserved well of his country. Inadvertence
is possible to all, but there are certain forms of care-
lessness which deserve the Cat.
Very Like a Whale—Story,
That fight between a hu^e whale and a cable
Outdoes the Kraken-stories of old fable.
One thing is clear, — if truth friend Ivendal tell,
Jonah ’s outmarvelled—and avenged as well!
As for his whale, the Public beats it hollow,
Having a more prodigious power of swallow.
Sweet Revenge.—“Cane” is a word associated, in
the schoolboy mind at least, rather with beating than
with being beaten. But the Sugar-Cane, it seems, has
an enemy which bids fair to beet it out of the field.
The world’s “light” may come from various sources,
but its “ sweetness,” it appears, is mainly owing to beet-
root. And now the sugar-cane growers are calling out
for Protection ! Fancy any kind of cane requiring to be
protected ! The Sugar-Cane may not be the true Orbilian
Stick ; but that any member of the odious Cane family
should be in trouble, must be sweet news to all victims of
Orbilius plagosus.
MEMORIES OE THE GREAT MATCH.
{By an Enthusiastic Old Willow-Wielder.)
_ [England v. Australia at the Oval, August 11, 12, and 13, 1884. Austra-
lians made 551 in First Innings ; England 346 in First Innings, and 85 in
Second, with Two Wickets down.]
Sensational Cricket! By Jove, I should say so! How thundering
shifty the fortune of war is,
At least at the wickets. Just ask England’s Captain, the pride of
the Kentish men, hearty Lord Harris.
But Cricket would not be so stirring a game if its tutelar goddess
were not such a shifty one.
Drawn game ? Why, of course. Little chance of a finish ’gainst
such a huge score as five hundred and fifty-one !
Those Cornstalks have luck—and deserve it right well, though a
pretty girl—English—declared it was horrid
That they won the toss, on so perfect a wicket, with sky so true-blue,
and with weather so torrid.
Pheugh! didn’t it blaze ? E’en the Scorer looked roasted and quite
lost his temper, perched up in his snuggery.
Iced-d.rinks were no good, nor were cabbage-leaf hats, nor the
comical forms of pith-helmet and puggaree !
The batsmen and fielders appeared like grey mushrooms. Reminded
us all of that great match in Pickwick,
A wonder they kept so alert, and so prompt at a smart bit of stump-
ing, a catch, or a “ snick ” quick !
But you might as well try to befiuster an iceberg, or make turtle-
soup out of nettles and burdock
As run the barometer up to a hundred to check the two hundred and
odd of cool Murdoch.
McDonnel and Scott also put on a lot, two hundred and five, said
the score-hoard, between ’em.
And then the queer larks at the end of their innings! A humorist
well might have paid to have seen ’em.
Smart Lyttleton leaving the wickets and bowling, and Grace’s
black nob at the stumps gaily bobbing. _
And when Peate and IJlyett had pelted in vain, getting four wickets
slick with their snapping and lobbing!
As for W. G., if “ all over the shop ” has old meanings, he gave it
some new illustrations ;
Our best all-round Cricketer yet, by a lot, and quite cheerily equal
to all situations,
Hard luck his “ run-out,” such a very close thing ! And if Pullen
was right, both my optics were missing,
But Empires are human, and do their square best, and I don’t see
the wisdom of howling and hissing,
Things looked rather dicky, with Steel “ leg before,” and a sort of
a funk having settled stout Ulyeit,
But steady young Scqtton he put a good lot on, Read hit right and
left, and we might have the pull yet.
By Jove, how the Surreyites clapped as their favourite piled up his
score, and indeed I will trouble you
To point to much cleaner and pluckier play than the hundred and
seventeen of W. W. !
Last wicket but one,—for he’d been out of luck,—and he treated the
“ Demon’s ” best ball like a pellet,
Whilst Scotton stayed on till his ninety was won. A rare good bit
of play, and ’tis pleasant to tell it.
A draw—oh! of course ; but by no means disgraceful to anxious
Lord Harris’s lot when ’twas ended.
They’d had leather-hunting in tropical heat for well nigh two whole
days, and good fortune befriended
Their rivals all through. But the cricket was true from start up to
finish. Each Cornstalk’s a hot ’un,
Anri Murdoch’s a marvel; but England may dare to put Read
’gainst McDonnel. with Scott compare Scotton.