DOI issue:
August 21, 1886
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17656#0102
96
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[August 21, 1886.
THE LOST LETTER-BAG.
(" Lilcra scripta manet.")
xxxrv.
Office of the {Name blotted), Aug. 13.
Deae Jobson,
. . T^-u ! T0U are something like a leader-writer. How long- it
is since I saw, in an article on any sport, what I find in your essay
to-day on Australian cricket. " The Battle of Waterloo was won—
it was the Duke of "Wellington who said, so—on the playing-
fields of Eton." I had begun to think that the good old tag had
perished; but you, my boy; are the Pancirollus of that lost art. Go
on writing like this : this is what our people like ; nothing new or
puzzling, but the familiar constitutional statements, and the Duke of
Wellington ! I am looking forward with delight to your article
on the First of September, its partridges, you know; pointers, Mr.
Winkle, and all that. Yours always,
Thomas Button {Editor).
xxxv.
My deae Aemstbong, CornMll, Aug. 13.
"What fellows you are in Belfast! What do you do it for ?
Your workmen take the Roman poet's advice, sparqe, marite, twees,
but the nuts they scatter are all iron nuts. To be flippant, you Pro-
testant shipbuilders seem quite nuts on your neighbours. And they
are pretty handy with their flints, remembering, as Scott says, that
" flints are rent." Still, I don't see why your hands and the other
hands do it. If you broke each other's heads for a month, nobody
interfering, how would they be the better in the long run ? They
can't seriously hope to exterminate each other on both sides, and yet
what other ideal, in Belfast, would be worth attaining ? Can't you
speak to your hands like a father, and get them to see this ? We all
see it over here. Ever yours,
To Johnston Jardine Armstrong, Esq., John Smith.
Belfast.
xxxvi.
Daeling Annie, The Dove-cot, Bullocksmithy.
I always promised to let you hear, first of all! He is, oh,
so delightful, and unusual. He has not exactly spoken yet, but
every day I expect him. He is so handsome, very fair, and so
clever, and intellectual, and advanced. He has lent me the most
delightful books, French and English, on Socialism, and Spiritualism,
and^ Art. I don't quite understand the French books, but I know
he finds in me a kindred soul. He says I understand him. I hope
I do. Mamma is afraid I don't; but you will be ready, won't you,
dear, to congratulate your loving Atalanta Gieton.
P.S.—He is away, lecturing to the Proletariat, in Staleybridge, for
the New Buddhist Society.
xxxvn.
(The Address of the following is illegible.)
Mr Deae Sir,
The sincere sympathy with which I have followed your
brilliant career as a dramatist, prompts me to seek your collaboration
in a new comedy, the idea for which has recently occurred to me.
I have the vanity to believe that my plot is absolutely new and
original, as you will see it affords admirable opportunities for the
exercise of your peculiar ingenuity of treatment, though space
obliges me to give but the barest outline of both donnee and motif.
My notion is (shortly) this: A., a wealthy rag-and-bottle-merchant
in the City, is secretly engaged to a Roumanian (or Bulgarian) lady
ventriloquist. (You can make plenty of fun out of this!) But A.
has a nephew, on the tvife's side, who is enamoured of the daughter
of an Archbishop—there has never been an Archbishop in modem
comedy—and who is also largely interested in a project for making
jam out of ship's barnacles. Complications, which you will readily
imagine, but which I have not as yet had leisure to elaborate, arise
from this, and are connected by a ficelle (which I will leave to your
well-known fertility of invention) with trie matrimonial adventures
of a maiden lady of over middle age, who imagines herself attractive,
and is desperately anxious to secure a husband. Here again you
have a character new to the Stage, and, with your talent, you should
be able to devise situations for more fully developing the peculiari-
ties I have but sketched.
The consequences of the imbroglio we can best work out in con-
sultation, and I must ask you to make an appointment for this
purpose as soon as possible, as I am occupied in other pursuits. I
may add that I have suffered so much from dramatists of supposed
reputation, who, nevertheless, have not scrupled to rob me of ideas
I have submitted to them in all confidence, that though I trust to
your honour not to make any unprincipled use of the dramatic mate-
rial I hereby entrust for your consideration only, I shall, in the event
of your proving yourself a pirate like the rest, enforce my rights by
every means in my power. I am yours faithfully,
{Signature undecipherable).
xxxvm.
My deaeest Aunt, Craven Street, Strand.
_ You have frequently expressed a wish to see me happily
united in wedlock to a young lady you could respect and esteem,
and it now becomes my pleasant task to inform you that your desire
is about to be more than realised.
If you have perused some of the lighter theatrical periodicals, you
can hardly fail to have remarked the name of a Miss Popsie Fol-
jambe, and will also have noted that she is invariably mentioned in
a tone of cordial and unqualified commendation.
Seeking relaxation from the course of strict and arduous study
upon which I have, at your suggestion, entered in order to fit myself
for the noble profession of the Law, I have casually encountered this
" gem of purest ray serene " in the various caves of harmony which
exist in our great Metropolis, and, after long and persevering efforts,
at length succeeded in being admitted to the privilege of her ac-
quaintance.
She is indeed a being whom it is only necessary to know to love !
and is, moreover, universally acknowledged to be the quickest
lightning-change artist in the Profession.
She is not perhaps what you would call highly educated, but she
has a mind of striking range and cultivation, and, without being in
anyway a blue, takes a warm interest in topics of the day. She is
one of Nature's own gentlewomen, and her patter and step-dancing
bear the stamp of true genius. I long to bring her to see you at
dear old Clapham, and shall hope for an early opportunity of intro-
ducing her to your tea-table some Sunday afternoon.
Her birth and parentage are not unworthy of her. Her father has
long occupied the prominent and responsible position of Chairman of
the Accordion Music Hall, and is a gentleman of distinguished
manner, though affable and accessible to all who approach him in
the right spirit. Her mother is a lady in whose simple dignity it
would be difficult to detect the whilom " Female Jester " whose wit
and wisdom have brightened so many a provincial Circus, and her
brother (now abroad for the benefit of his health) but lately retired
from the turf, where he is greatly missed, with a considerable sum
as the reward of his industry and foresight. Her sister is perhaps
the leading lady-ban joist in Europe, and was lately presented with
the silver belt of Championship, while her uncle's name, Sam
Kicksy, will doubtless be familiar to you in connection with slab
and spade dancing. So that you have no cause to blush for the new
relatives with whom I hope to present you.
But why enlarge on all this when you can see my pearl with your
own eyes ? If you still have any doubts whether I have decided
upon my present step without due circumspection, and the maturest
deliberation, come, my dear Aunt, and resolve them for yourself'
Mention my name any evening, about Eleven, at the doors of the
Accordion, and you will be passed in at once, and, when my beloved
comes on for her usual turn, you will be enabled to form some faint
idea of the heights to which she is capable of rising.
Aawaiting your blessing, by return of post, I am, my dear Aunt,
always your affectionate Nephew, Theophilus Boundeb.
P.S.—I find the expenses of life as a London student have been
very much under-estimated, and shall be glad of a cheque to accom-
pany blessing as above.
A BROKEN-HEARTED BALLADE.
Nay ! but talk not to me of the rush to the North,
Every station and platform at present pervading.
Of the wild Southron hordes every day pouring forth
And in shoals all our sweet heather moorland invading.
For I've let all I own to three Manchester men,
And I picture their heads consequentially wagging
As they stalk, perhaps kilted, to seize on my glen,
"Where I know that my grouse they '11 be constantly bagging.
Ah, to know that a stranger your property's looting,
It's that hits you hardest in letting your shooting.
Shall I stay ? nay, I '11 off to some far southern shore,
And 1 '11 leave far behind me my own Scottish weather,
And beneath bluer heavens I '11 ponder no more
On the mists that are drenching my loved native heather !
And it may be to me p'raps will come home the thought,
From these Manchester men that my keep I've been earning—
And I '11 solace myself with this comforting thought
Till the last bird being killed sees me once more returning!
But it's aye for old ties and old feelings uprooting,
There's nothing can touch one like letting the shooting!
A Bodkin's Point.—"Under proper control" means properly
muzzled or led by substantial person using chain, cord, leather, or
something sufficiently strong. Mr. Punch confirms the contention of
Mr. Bodkin, who naturally is a very sharp lawyer. Res acu tacta
est—i.e., the matter has been dealt with by Bodkin.
l^- TO COBEESFONDENTS.—In no case can Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, or Drawings, be returned, unless accompanied
by a Stamped and Directed Envelope or Cover. Copies of MS. should be kept by the Sendera.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[August 21, 1886.
THE LOST LETTER-BAG.
(" Lilcra scripta manet.")
xxxrv.
Office of the {Name blotted), Aug. 13.
Deae Jobson,
. . T^-u ! T0U are something like a leader-writer. How long- it
is since I saw, in an article on any sport, what I find in your essay
to-day on Australian cricket. " The Battle of Waterloo was won—
it was the Duke of "Wellington who said, so—on the playing-
fields of Eton." I had begun to think that the good old tag had
perished; but you, my boy; are the Pancirollus of that lost art. Go
on writing like this : this is what our people like ; nothing new or
puzzling, but the familiar constitutional statements, and the Duke of
Wellington ! I am looking forward with delight to your article
on the First of September, its partridges, you know; pointers, Mr.
Winkle, and all that. Yours always,
Thomas Button {Editor).
xxxv.
My deae Aemstbong, CornMll, Aug. 13.
"What fellows you are in Belfast! What do you do it for ?
Your workmen take the Roman poet's advice, sparqe, marite, twees,
but the nuts they scatter are all iron nuts. To be flippant, you Pro-
testant shipbuilders seem quite nuts on your neighbours. And they
are pretty handy with their flints, remembering, as Scott says, that
" flints are rent." Still, I don't see why your hands and the other
hands do it. If you broke each other's heads for a month, nobody
interfering, how would they be the better in the long run ? They
can't seriously hope to exterminate each other on both sides, and yet
what other ideal, in Belfast, would be worth attaining ? Can't you
speak to your hands like a father, and get them to see this ? We all
see it over here. Ever yours,
To Johnston Jardine Armstrong, Esq., John Smith.
Belfast.
xxxvi.
Daeling Annie, The Dove-cot, Bullocksmithy.
I always promised to let you hear, first of all! He is, oh,
so delightful, and unusual. He has not exactly spoken yet, but
every day I expect him. He is so handsome, very fair, and so
clever, and intellectual, and advanced. He has lent me the most
delightful books, French and English, on Socialism, and Spiritualism,
and^ Art. I don't quite understand the French books, but I know
he finds in me a kindred soul. He says I understand him. I hope
I do. Mamma is afraid I don't; but you will be ready, won't you,
dear, to congratulate your loving Atalanta Gieton.
P.S.—He is away, lecturing to the Proletariat, in Staleybridge, for
the New Buddhist Society.
xxxvn.
(The Address of the following is illegible.)
Mr Deae Sir,
The sincere sympathy with which I have followed your
brilliant career as a dramatist, prompts me to seek your collaboration
in a new comedy, the idea for which has recently occurred to me.
I have the vanity to believe that my plot is absolutely new and
original, as you will see it affords admirable opportunities for the
exercise of your peculiar ingenuity of treatment, though space
obliges me to give but the barest outline of both donnee and motif.
My notion is (shortly) this: A., a wealthy rag-and-bottle-merchant
in the City, is secretly engaged to a Roumanian (or Bulgarian) lady
ventriloquist. (You can make plenty of fun out of this!) But A.
has a nephew, on the tvife's side, who is enamoured of the daughter
of an Archbishop—there has never been an Archbishop in modem
comedy—and who is also largely interested in a project for making
jam out of ship's barnacles. Complications, which you will readily
imagine, but which I have not as yet had leisure to elaborate, arise
from this, and are connected by a ficelle (which I will leave to your
well-known fertility of invention) with trie matrimonial adventures
of a maiden lady of over middle age, who imagines herself attractive,
and is desperately anxious to secure a husband. Here again you
have a character new to the Stage, and, with your talent, you should
be able to devise situations for more fully developing the peculiari-
ties I have but sketched.
The consequences of the imbroglio we can best work out in con-
sultation, and I must ask you to make an appointment for this
purpose as soon as possible, as I am occupied in other pursuits. I
may add that I have suffered so much from dramatists of supposed
reputation, who, nevertheless, have not scrupled to rob me of ideas
I have submitted to them in all confidence, that though I trust to
your honour not to make any unprincipled use of the dramatic mate-
rial I hereby entrust for your consideration only, I shall, in the event
of your proving yourself a pirate like the rest, enforce my rights by
every means in my power. I am yours faithfully,
{Signature undecipherable).
xxxvm.
My deaeest Aunt, Craven Street, Strand.
_ You have frequently expressed a wish to see me happily
united in wedlock to a young lady you could respect and esteem,
and it now becomes my pleasant task to inform you that your desire
is about to be more than realised.
If you have perused some of the lighter theatrical periodicals, you
can hardly fail to have remarked the name of a Miss Popsie Fol-
jambe, and will also have noted that she is invariably mentioned in
a tone of cordial and unqualified commendation.
Seeking relaxation from the course of strict and arduous study
upon which I have, at your suggestion, entered in order to fit myself
for the noble profession of the Law, I have casually encountered this
" gem of purest ray serene " in the various caves of harmony which
exist in our great Metropolis, and, after long and persevering efforts,
at length succeeded in being admitted to the privilege of her ac-
quaintance.
She is indeed a being whom it is only necessary to know to love !
and is, moreover, universally acknowledged to be the quickest
lightning-change artist in the Profession.
She is not perhaps what you would call highly educated, but she
has a mind of striking range and cultivation, and, without being in
anyway a blue, takes a warm interest in topics of the day. She is
one of Nature's own gentlewomen, and her patter and step-dancing
bear the stamp of true genius. I long to bring her to see you at
dear old Clapham, and shall hope for an early opportunity of intro-
ducing her to your tea-table some Sunday afternoon.
Her birth and parentage are not unworthy of her. Her father has
long occupied the prominent and responsible position of Chairman of
the Accordion Music Hall, and is a gentleman of distinguished
manner, though affable and accessible to all who approach him in
the right spirit. Her mother is a lady in whose simple dignity it
would be difficult to detect the whilom " Female Jester " whose wit
and wisdom have brightened so many a provincial Circus, and her
brother (now abroad for the benefit of his health) but lately retired
from the turf, where he is greatly missed, with a considerable sum
as the reward of his industry and foresight. Her sister is perhaps
the leading lady-ban joist in Europe, and was lately presented with
the silver belt of Championship, while her uncle's name, Sam
Kicksy, will doubtless be familiar to you in connection with slab
and spade dancing. So that you have no cause to blush for the new
relatives with whom I hope to present you.
But why enlarge on all this when you can see my pearl with your
own eyes ? If you still have any doubts whether I have decided
upon my present step without due circumspection, and the maturest
deliberation, come, my dear Aunt, and resolve them for yourself'
Mention my name any evening, about Eleven, at the doors of the
Accordion, and you will be passed in at once, and, when my beloved
comes on for her usual turn, you will be enabled to form some faint
idea of the heights to which she is capable of rising.
Aawaiting your blessing, by return of post, I am, my dear Aunt,
always your affectionate Nephew, Theophilus Boundeb.
P.S.—I find the expenses of life as a London student have been
very much under-estimated, and shall be glad of a cheque to accom-
pany blessing as above.
A BROKEN-HEARTED BALLADE.
Nay ! but talk not to me of the rush to the North,
Every station and platform at present pervading.
Of the wild Southron hordes every day pouring forth
And in shoals all our sweet heather moorland invading.
For I've let all I own to three Manchester men,
And I picture their heads consequentially wagging
As they stalk, perhaps kilted, to seize on my glen,
"Where I know that my grouse they '11 be constantly bagging.
Ah, to know that a stranger your property's looting,
It's that hits you hardest in letting your shooting.
Shall I stay ? nay, I '11 off to some far southern shore,
And 1 '11 leave far behind me my own Scottish weather,
And beneath bluer heavens I '11 ponder no more
On the mists that are drenching my loved native heather !
And it may be to me p'raps will come home the thought,
From these Manchester men that my keep I've been earning—
And I '11 solace myself with this comforting thought
Till the last bird being killed sees me once more returning!
But it's aye for old ties and old feelings uprooting,
There's nothing can touch one like letting the shooting!
A Bodkin's Point.—"Under proper control" means properly
muzzled or led by substantial person using chain, cord, leather, or
something sufficiently strong. Mr. Punch confirms the contention of
Mr. Bodkin, who naturally is a very sharp lawyer. Res acu tacta
est—i.e., the matter has been dealt with by Bodkin.
l^- TO COBEESFONDENTS.—In no case can Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, or Drawings, be returned, unless accompanied
by a Stamped and Directed Envelope or Cover. Copies of MS. should be kept by the Sendera.