DOI issue:
October 11, 1884
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17757#0181
DIFFERENT EFFECTS OF SHYNESS.
[It impels Jones to extreme volubility, and makes him say things he would much rather leave unsaid.)
“By the way, Mr. Smith—a—talking of Coincidences—a—do you happen to know the Browns, in Onslow Square?—
A—A—LITTLE MAN—BIG SHIRT COLLAR LONG UPPER LlP—A—THAT IS—A—HIS WlFE SQUINTS—I MEAN A A HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW
SQUINTS TOO—ONLY SHE’S THIN—A—AT LEAST—A—THEY’VE ALL THREE GOT RED NOSES—A—A—NOT THAT I OBJECT TO THAT—A—A
— ON THE CONTRARY-A—A—I MEAN, THEY ’RE MOST DELIGHTFUL PEOPLE—A-CAN’T THINK WHAT SUDDENLY PUT THEM INTO MY
Head—a—a—it \s of no consequence—a-!” \_Perspiresprofusely, and tries in vain to find another topic of conversation.
N.B.— When he next meets the Browns, of Onslow Square, his wretched shyness will 'prompt him straightway to tell them how he put his foot
in it at the Smiths!
DRAWING THE LINE.
The British Lion! He, of late at least,
Has proved himself a very patient beast;
His tail terrific
Has not been wildly wagged or lashed aloft ;
Leo has bowed to influences soft,
If not somnific.
Foes used to call him cruel, rampant, ruthless.
But now they hint he’s growing old and toothless,
(In both mistaken).
Faineant they fancy him, from battle shrinking,
And grown so vastly fond of forty-winking
He will not waken.
So aeems the Dutchman doubtless. Holy bandit!
He finds it difficult to understand it,
Leo’s long slumber.
The bold Batavian’s burglarious pietv
Tries rousing prods and pokes in vast variety,
And endless number.
He pulls old Leo’s mane, he tweaks his tail,
And, gaining courage as these insults fail,
Concludes, no doubt,
That nothing Leo’s stagnant blood will quicken,
That he has but to treat him like a chicken,
And wh-o-o-osh him out.
But-- Well, a “but” does come in generally
Somewhere or other. The bold Boer’s last sally
Patience must bar.
A joke’s a joke ; some prodding and much pricking
Leo can stand, but, when it comes to kicking,
That’s going too far !
Most Christian Cut-throat, of undoubted bravery,
Whose little weaknesses are theft and slavery,
Smug Africander.
We ’ve more than paid you all just debts that we owe,
But don’t trust to the theory that Leo
Is quite a gander.
To violate our treaties, lower our flag,
Of course are bits of mere Batavian brag,
The veriest trifles.
But just a leetle more, and we must trounce
Manners into you, spite of all your bounce
And all your rifles.
You may rouse Leo just a hit too much, Man,
And then ’ware claws, my hold freebooting Dutchman !
If you don’t watch it,
England may have to—ere this game we settle—
Oppose Dutch courage with Britannia mettle,—
And then you ’ll catch it!
There are two American Novelists who might make a Firm as
collahorateurs, and describe their works as coming from ‘ ‘ Howells
and James’s.”
[It impels Jones to extreme volubility, and makes him say things he would much rather leave unsaid.)
“By the way, Mr. Smith—a—talking of Coincidences—a—do you happen to know the Browns, in Onslow Square?—
A—A—LITTLE MAN—BIG SHIRT COLLAR LONG UPPER LlP—A—THAT IS—A—HIS WlFE SQUINTS—I MEAN A A HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW
SQUINTS TOO—ONLY SHE’S THIN—A—AT LEAST—A—THEY’VE ALL THREE GOT RED NOSES—A—A—NOT THAT I OBJECT TO THAT—A—A
— ON THE CONTRARY-A—A—I MEAN, THEY ’RE MOST DELIGHTFUL PEOPLE—A-CAN’T THINK WHAT SUDDENLY PUT THEM INTO MY
Head—a—a—it \s of no consequence—a-!” \_Perspiresprofusely, and tries in vain to find another topic of conversation.
N.B.— When he next meets the Browns, of Onslow Square, his wretched shyness will 'prompt him straightway to tell them how he put his foot
in it at the Smiths!
DRAWING THE LINE.
The British Lion! He, of late at least,
Has proved himself a very patient beast;
His tail terrific
Has not been wildly wagged or lashed aloft ;
Leo has bowed to influences soft,
If not somnific.
Foes used to call him cruel, rampant, ruthless.
But now they hint he’s growing old and toothless,
(In both mistaken).
Faineant they fancy him, from battle shrinking,
And grown so vastly fond of forty-winking
He will not waken.
So aeems the Dutchman doubtless. Holy bandit!
He finds it difficult to understand it,
Leo’s long slumber.
The bold Batavian’s burglarious pietv
Tries rousing prods and pokes in vast variety,
And endless number.
He pulls old Leo’s mane, he tweaks his tail,
And, gaining courage as these insults fail,
Concludes, no doubt,
That nothing Leo’s stagnant blood will quicken,
That he has but to treat him like a chicken,
And wh-o-o-osh him out.
But-- Well, a “but” does come in generally
Somewhere or other. The bold Boer’s last sally
Patience must bar.
A joke’s a joke ; some prodding and much pricking
Leo can stand, but, when it comes to kicking,
That’s going too far !
Most Christian Cut-throat, of undoubted bravery,
Whose little weaknesses are theft and slavery,
Smug Africander.
We ’ve more than paid you all just debts that we owe,
But don’t trust to the theory that Leo
Is quite a gander.
To violate our treaties, lower our flag,
Of course are bits of mere Batavian brag,
The veriest trifles.
But just a leetle more, and we must trounce
Manners into you, spite of all your bounce
And all your rifles.
You may rouse Leo just a hit too much, Man,
And then ’ware claws, my hold freebooting Dutchman !
If you don’t watch it,
England may have to—ere this game we settle—
Oppose Dutch courage with Britannia mettle,—
And then you ’ll catch it!
There are two American Novelists who might make a Firm as
collahorateurs, and describe their works as coming from ‘ ‘ Howells
and James’s.”