DOI issue:
January 8, 1887
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17657#0024
14
PUNCH, OE THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[January 8, 1887.
WRANGLERS AT
OXFORD!!
In the Pall Mall Gazette.,
last Friday, a Correspondent
wrote to say that the Rev.
E. S. Ffoulkes had com-
plained of the Rev. Mr.
Fletcher to his Bishop for
putting forward doubts as to
the fall of Adam. Ahem!
so " Ffoulkes rush in where
angels fear to tread." Much
better be happy together,
and join in the old nigger
chorus-
Some Ffoulkes do,
Some Ffoulkes don't,
Long lire the merry time!
"We'll laugh, both night and
day
In the Jubilee!
No matter what some Ffoulkes
Bay.
And if it is a theological con-
troversy in which it may be
said of him that he is " Old
Feoulkes at home," then
the sooner the Rev. Mr.
Fletcher drops the sub-
ject (and whoever heard of
Fletcher doing anything
without Beaumont ?) the
better for him—and every-
body. Finally, "Wranglers
are quite out of place at
Oxford, and at Cambridge
they only wrangle about
Mathematics.
Crocodile's Tears. — M.
Sardou's regret that in his
last new play he should un-
consciously have plagiarised
Ton Taylor's Overland
Route.
RATHER STARTLING.
"Well, Count! Any Sport this Morning?"
" Helas ! mon Ami, very sad Sport ! I 'ave shot three beautiful
Misses ! " [He means he has missed three heautiful Shots.
ON DIT.
The series of Articles on
Foreign Affairs in the Fort-
nightly are to be signed
" Ipse Dilxit." The Mac-
dekmott is to have a new
seasonable version of his
Song, supposed now to be
sung bv a man with " a
cold id 'is 'td." commencing,
"Charley Dilke with pei
aid ilk, Is writil for the
Fortnightly."
Under the heading of
"A Novel Feature at a
Wedding," we read in our
favourite evening newspaper
that on the departure of the
bride and bridegroom there
was a torchlight procession
headed by Sir Archibald
Lamb. Let him be hence-
forth styled Sir Archibald
Lamp.
What a night it was!
The New Tear came in here,
through the fog, with a new
set of stamps. No wonder!
Any amount of stamps
wouldn't have done much
towards warming his poor
feet between midnight, 1886,
and one a.m. 1887. The New
Year came in with new
stamps—we '11 hope he won't
go out with an old break-
down.
Another Name eor Htm.
—Lord Random, of course;
but why not, pro hdc vice,
Lord Ran-oee ?
TAPPEBTirS EEVOLT.
Dickens Adapted to Circumstances.
Gabriel Varden . . Lord S-l-sb-ry.
Simon Tappertit. . Lord R-nd-lph Ch-rch-ll.
Mrs. Varden . . C-ns-rv-t-ve P-rty.
Miggs . . .The St-nd-rd.
******
Christmas was close at hand—all seemed to be going with
seasonable ease and cheerfulness; but Simon Tappertit, whose
mysterious demeanour and erratic ways had lately given the worthy
locksmith some disquiet, was very late.
Gabriel Varden, with his lady, and Miss Miggs, sat watching
in the little Cabinet.
Miss Miggs, who had arrived at that restless and sensitive con-
dition of the nervous system which are the result of long watching,
and considerable snubbing, did, by constant rubbing and tweaking
of her nose, a perpetual change of attitude, frequent surprised
elevation and frowning depression of her eyebrows, the incessant re-
currence of a small cough, a gasp, a sniff, a sigh, a spasmodic start,
and by other demonstrations of that nature,_ give the beholders to
understand that she was far from satisfied with the existing condi-
tion of things, and that only a sense of duty upheld her, and nerved
her to endurance.
Mrs. Varden seemed too sleepy to say much, though she may
possibly have been thinking a good deal. ^
"Ally Looyer, Mim!" cried Miss Miggs, "there's Simmuns's
knock!"
" Who's there P " said Gabriel
" Me! " cried the well-known voice of Mr. Tappertit.
Gabriel opened the door and gave him admission.
He stalked haughtily into the room, and throwing himself into a,
chair, and endeavouring to thrust his hands into the pockets of his
small clothes, which were turned inside out, as indeed his coat seemed
to be also, surveyed the household with gloomy dignity.
"Simon," said the locksmith, gravely, "how comes it that you
return in this condition ? Give me an assurance that you have not
been among those confounded Radical associates of yours, and I am
satisfied."
"Sir," replied Mr. Tappertit, with a contemptuous look, "I
wonder at your assurance in making such a demand."
"Martha," said the locksmith, turning to his wife, and shaking
his head sorrowfully, " I trust it may not turn out that this poor
lad is the victim of ithe fools and fanatics we have so often had
words about. If he has been at H-w-rd-n or B-rm-ngh-m-"
" He has been at neither. Sir," cried Mr. Tappertit in a loud voice,
which he suddenly dropped into a whisper as he repeated, with eyes
fixed upon the locksmith, " he has been at neither."
" I'm glad of it with all my heart," said the locksmith, in a serious
tone, "for if he had been, and it could be proved against him, our
Great Association would never have forgiven him."
" He was not at H-w-rd-n nor at B-rm-ngh-m, G. Varden," said
Simon, sternly; "but he was at Westminster. Perhaps, Sir, he
snubbed a Metropolitan Member; perhaps, Sir, he tapped a Naval
Lord. You may stare, Sir, I repeat it—perhaps he tapped a Naval
Lord. Who knows ? Beware, G. Varden ! "
* * * * * *
" You spoke of Miggs, Sir," ejaculated Mr. Tappertit, scornfully.
"You spoke of Miggs, ah! and Miggs has Bpoke of me on several
occasions in a manner I shall not demean myself by describing.
Miggs be smothered ! "
"Oh, Slmmun!" ejaculated that lady in a faint voice. "Oh,
Mim ! Oh, Sir! Oh, goodness gracious, what a turn he has give me!"
" This Party may all be smothered. Sir," returned Mr. Tappertit,
after glancing at her with a smile of ineffable disdain. " Be warned
in time, G. Varden ! "
But here the two women threw themselves in the way—especially
Miss Miggs, who fell upon him with such fervour that she pinned
him against the wall—and conjured him, in moving words, not to go
forth till he was sober ; to listen to reason; to think of it; to take
some rest, and then determine.
"I tell you," said Mr. Tappertit, "that my mind is made up.
My bleeding, o'ertaxed country calls me, and 1 go ! Miggs, if you
don't get out of the way, I '11 pinch you' "
PUNCH, OE THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[January 8, 1887.
WRANGLERS AT
OXFORD!!
In the Pall Mall Gazette.,
last Friday, a Correspondent
wrote to say that the Rev.
E. S. Ffoulkes had com-
plained of the Rev. Mr.
Fletcher to his Bishop for
putting forward doubts as to
the fall of Adam. Ahem!
so " Ffoulkes rush in where
angels fear to tread." Much
better be happy together,
and join in the old nigger
chorus-
Some Ffoulkes do,
Some Ffoulkes don't,
Long lire the merry time!
"We'll laugh, both night and
day
In the Jubilee!
No matter what some Ffoulkes
Bay.
And if it is a theological con-
troversy in which it may be
said of him that he is " Old
Feoulkes at home," then
the sooner the Rev. Mr.
Fletcher drops the sub-
ject (and whoever heard of
Fletcher doing anything
without Beaumont ?) the
better for him—and every-
body. Finally, "Wranglers
are quite out of place at
Oxford, and at Cambridge
they only wrangle about
Mathematics.
Crocodile's Tears. — M.
Sardou's regret that in his
last new play he should un-
consciously have plagiarised
Ton Taylor's Overland
Route.
RATHER STARTLING.
"Well, Count! Any Sport this Morning?"
" Helas ! mon Ami, very sad Sport ! I 'ave shot three beautiful
Misses ! " [He means he has missed three heautiful Shots.
ON DIT.
The series of Articles on
Foreign Affairs in the Fort-
nightly are to be signed
" Ipse Dilxit." The Mac-
dekmott is to have a new
seasonable version of his
Song, supposed now to be
sung bv a man with " a
cold id 'is 'td." commencing,
"Charley Dilke with pei
aid ilk, Is writil for the
Fortnightly."
Under the heading of
"A Novel Feature at a
Wedding," we read in our
favourite evening newspaper
that on the departure of the
bride and bridegroom there
was a torchlight procession
headed by Sir Archibald
Lamb. Let him be hence-
forth styled Sir Archibald
Lamp.
What a night it was!
The New Tear came in here,
through the fog, with a new
set of stamps. No wonder!
Any amount of stamps
wouldn't have done much
towards warming his poor
feet between midnight, 1886,
and one a.m. 1887. The New
Year came in with new
stamps—we '11 hope he won't
go out with an old break-
down.
Another Name eor Htm.
—Lord Random, of course;
but why not, pro hdc vice,
Lord Ran-oee ?
TAPPEBTirS EEVOLT.
Dickens Adapted to Circumstances.
Gabriel Varden . . Lord S-l-sb-ry.
Simon Tappertit. . Lord R-nd-lph Ch-rch-ll.
Mrs. Varden . . C-ns-rv-t-ve P-rty.
Miggs . . .The St-nd-rd.
******
Christmas was close at hand—all seemed to be going with
seasonable ease and cheerfulness; but Simon Tappertit, whose
mysterious demeanour and erratic ways had lately given the worthy
locksmith some disquiet, was very late.
Gabriel Varden, with his lady, and Miss Miggs, sat watching
in the little Cabinet.
Miss Miggs, who had arrived at that restless and sensitive con-
dition of the nervous system which are the result of long watching,
and considerable snubbing, did, by constant rubbing and tweaking
of her nose, a perpetual change of attitude, frequent surprised
elevation and frowning depression of her eyebrows, the incessant re-
currence of a small cough, a gasp, a sniff, a sigh, a spasmodic start,
and by other demonstrations of that nature,_ give the beholders to
understand that she was far from satisfied with the existing condi-
tion of things, and that only a sense of duty upheld her, and nerved
her to endurance.
Mrs. Varden seemed too sleepy to say much, though she may
possibly have been thinking a good deal. ^
"Ally Looyer, Mim!" cried Miss Miggs, "there's Simmuns's
knock!"
" Who's there P " said Gabriel
" Me! " cried the well-known voice of Mr. Tappertit.
Gabriel opened the door and gave him admission.
He stalked haughtily into the room, and throwing himself into a,
chair, and endeavouring to thrust his hands into the pockets of his
small clothes, which were turned inside out, as indeed his coat seemed
to be also, surveyed the household with gloomy dignity.
"Simon," said the locksmith, gravely, "how comes it that you
return in this condition ? Give me an assurance that you have not
been among those confounded Radical associates of yours, and I am
satisfied."
"Sir," replied Mr. Tappertit, with a contemptuous look, "I
wonder at your assurance in making such a demand."
"Martha," said the locksmith, turning to his wife, and shaking
his head sorrowfully, " I trust it may not turn out that this poor
lad is the victim of ithe fools and fanatics we have so often had
words about. If he has been at H-w-rd-n or B-rm-ngh-m-"
" He has been at neither. Sir," cried Mr. Tappertit in a loud voice,
which he suddenly dropped into a whisper as he repeated, with eyes
fixed upon the locksmith, " he has been at neither."
" I'm glad of it with all my heart," said the locksmith, in a serious
tone, "for if he had been, and it could be proved against him, our
Great Association would never have forgiven him."
" He was not at H-w-rd-n nor at B-rm-ngh-m, G. Varden," said
Simon, sternly; "but he was at Westminster. Perhaps, Sir, he
snubbed a Metropolitan Member; perhaps, Sir, he tapped a Naval
Lord. You may stare, Sir, I repeat it—perhaps he tapped a Naval
Lord. Who knows ? Beware, G. Varden ! "
* * * * * *
" You spoke of Miggs, Sir," ejaculated Mr. Tappertit, scornfully.
"You spoke of Miggs, ah! and Miggs has Bpoke of me on several
occasions in a manner I shall not demean myself by describing.
Miggs be smothered ! "
"Oh, Slmmun!" ejaculated that lady in a faint voice. "Oh,
Mim ! Oh, Sir! Oh, goodness gracious, what a turn he has give me!"
" This Party may all be smothered. Sir," returned Mr. Tappertit,
after glancing at her with a smile of ineffable disdain. " Be warned
in time, G. Varden ! "
But here the two women threw themselves in the way—especially
Miss Miggs, who fell upon him with such fervour that she pinned
him against the wall—and conjured him, in moving words, not to go
forth till he was sober ; to listen to reason; to think of it; to take
some rest, and then determine.
"I tell you," said Mr. Tappertit, "that my mind is made up.
My bleeding, o'ertaxed country calls me, and 1 go ! Miggs, if you
don't get out of the way, I '11 pinch you' "