DOI Heft:
September 10, 1887
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17658#0115
September 10, 1887.] PUNCH, OE THE LONDON CHAEIVAEL 109
STRANGE ADVENTURES OF ASCENA LUKINCLASSE.
(By Phil Uppes, Author of "An Out-of-Luck Young Man," "Jack and
Jill went up the, Bill" " The Bishop and his Grandmother," <Ssc
Ascena's Nabbative.
The story which I have to tell is more than strange. It is so
terrible, so incredible, so entirely contrary to all that any ordinary
reader of the London Journal or the " penny dreadfuls" has ever
heard of, that even now I have some doubt in telling it. I happen,
however, to know it is true, and so does my husband. My husband
■will come in presently with his narrative. There! that ought to
make you curious. A very good commencement.
My early life was uneventful. I was a foundling. I was left
with two old ladies (I fancy I may work them up some day into
"character" sketches) by a perfect gentleman, who, after giving
them £200, went away the next morning to Vienna for ever. He
left with these two old ladies a little wardrobe full of clothes, but
there was not a mark, nor so much as an initial, upon a single
thing. They had all been cut out with a Bharp pair of scissors.
This again ought to excite your curiosity. Bear it in mind.
Mysterious parentage—no mother, no marks, and father gone to
Vienna for ever.
The two old ladies kept a school, in which I first was a scholar,
then a teacher. There I remained until I was seventeen, when I
Was tall and strong for my age, and looked more like three or four
and twenty. One day one of the old ladies said to me—■
"Now, my dear, I will tell you what we are going to do. We are
going to sell the school, and buy a little cottage at Bognor. It
doesn't face the sea, and just holds two. So, as we have considered
you more or less our own daughter, we are going to kick you out.
Now don't let's talk any more about it to-day, but tell us to-morrow
at breakfast, like a dear good girl, that we are going to do what
you wish."
"I shall tell you to-morrow," I answered, firmly. "I'll pretend
to think the matter over with all my might and main, until to-
morrow morning, and then give you an answer as solemnly weighed,
and as carefully set out, as a Saturday afternoon essay,"
Sol was kicked out.
I became a governess in the household of Mrs. Cowstbeam:. That
household consisted of the master, whose manner was what old
ladies in Lincolnshire call "rampageous," the children, who were,
beyond doubt, hopelessly dull, and the mistress, who was colourless.
■Nothing particularly happened save my dismissal (after receiving
a salary of about a thousand to twelve-hundred a year) within six
months. "With about four-hundred pounds in hand I went to the
Charing Cross Hotel.
I feel I am a little plot-less. So far : foundling, old ladies at Bog-
DjOr, aimless engagement by Mrs. Cowstbeam and advertisement for
the Charing Cross Hotel. All good in their way, but not quite
enough. I want an incident. I have it.
Having untold gold, I thought I would buy some gloves in the
Tottenham Court Road. I entered an omnibus, was much struck by
an old woman who sat next me, bought the gloves, was arrested as
a thief for passing false money and Baved from penal servitude for
life by old woman. Come, there's action for you! Still, I don't
know why it is, hut we don't seem to get much " forrader.",
. The old woman hurried me about from place to place feeding me
simply on grapes and bonbons. For some reason I was not allowed
to know where I was. I didn't want to, and not caring a brass-
iarthing for the selfish 'old ladies at Bognor, it mattered nothing to
^ whether they heard from me or not. After a time the old woman
asked me to sign this with my blood.
, In consideration of seven pounds a week, I agree to sell my
dreams between sunset and sunrise, the payment ceasing on my
death, and my dreams, if any, immediately becoming only, and
unconditionally my own."
I broke out laughing and signed it. Then the old woman said :—
. 1 am old enough to be your mother, and I am sure you know I
Ieel kindly towards you. I am not entirely my own mistress—think
well of me if you can."
-Chen placing by my side a little bottle of champagne, potted
meats, Devonshire cream, and dainty biscuits of various kinds, she
ieft me. The next day I was kicked out and carried in a carriage to
^awlish. I had a nice little dinner — tender beefsteak, new
Potatoes, asparagas and spinach, a bottle of sound port and a ripe
"tuton. After this, somehow or other,_ I had a restless night. I was
wwmented with strange dreams in which appeared a person whom I
fjaa never seen in my life. Certainly not that I can remember. He
™as an old man wearing an immense opal on his right-hand little
?nger. j ha(j ngygj. sePn 6Uch an opal before. The dream was con-
tused, I can only give these facts about it.
CY\j 's see k°w I am g^ing on> Mysterious parentage. School life.
""I woman in omnibus, ghastly-comical agreement, heavy dinner
°*}d consequent nightmare. Is that all ? No, I have forgotten the
ac»vertisemtnt for the Charing Cross Hotel. All told, I can't say
that there is much in my story._ Must get on. More heavy dinners,
more nightmares. Went to Brighton. Saw Doctor who said, " your
nerves are out of order, you are suffering from a malady called
Incipient Detearia. What do you drink ? "
" Nothing but port, maraschino, and champagne."
"Quite right. Persevere. I am going away for a fortnight.
Continue your diet, and, when I return, I will come and see you
again. By that time your malady will haye reached an acute stage.
By the way, do you ever eat ? "
'1 Not as much as I drink. I sometimes have a plate of turtle
soup, but chiefly as an excuse for a glass of punch."
" Quite so. Good day."
After this, my dreams became more and more confused, and I
grew quite ill. Then I met a gentleman at the table d'hote, called
Captain Chables. He was most kind, asked me on board his yacht,
and, when we had got to Dieppe, said,—
" Miss Ascena, I think we both understand each other. I am
afraid I have done very wrong in kidnapping you. Well, now, I am
going to put a question to you, straight and fair. When the yacht
slipped anchor at Brighton, I had a marriage-licence in our names,
in a morocco case in my pocket, upon which any clergyman on the
Continent is bound to act. It's no Gretna-Green business, I can
assure you."
"I'll talk about it this afternoon, if I am well enough," I said,
holding on to a rope (it was very rough), and, feeling myself turning
deadly pale,
"Are you married already ?" he asked, with a something like a
choking in his mouth.
"No, no, no," I cried. "I like you very much."
I got out of the general embarrassment by fainting away until I
found myself in the Hotel Royal, Dieppe.
Again I pause to say that I fancy somehow I am making a mess of
this story. To my list I have added an absolutely pointless and
superfluous case of kidnapping, which would be unpleasant were it
not ridiculous.
Well, the Doctor came, and said I was to have a large glass of port
wine and a small glass of beef tea every ten minutes. This did me
good. After a few hours of this treatment, feeling more communi-
cative, I told Captain Chables all I have written here. I also
explained to him my difficulty in carrying on my tale without a
collaborateur.
He stooped over me, kissed me gently on the forehead, and said—■
"Never mind, dearest. I will send for a curious old man from
Strasburg, and have myself a shot at the story. Two pens are better
than one."
I could only wonder how it would all end, and.vaguely hope for
the best.
Captain" Chables' Naebative.
My name is Albert Chables. I have a curious old friend who
lives at Strasburg, called Outhouse. I am Chables, his friend. I
wrote to Outhouse and told him Miss Lukinglasse's story—of
course, in unscientific language. He replied, it was deeply interest-
ing, and he would come to me at once. He arrived, and immediately
performed the old "drop of ink trick," where, it will be remembered,
a chap is made to describe what he sees in a little writing-fluid.
Then Outhouse turned to me with a strangely solemn face.
"We have got our finger," said he, " on the tarantula in his hole,
the viper in his lair, the pieuvre in his cave. Such monsters should
not be allowed to live."
I was bewildered. We made our way from Newhaven to Chisle-
hurst. We called upon the old man with the opal, of whom we had
so often talked. He trembled. Outhouse seemed to swell to twice
his natural height. Then the old chap with the opal appeared to
wither under his gaze. Then he changed to all manner of colours,
and literallv exploded. He went off with a feeble bang, like a cheap
firework. Not waiting to pick up his pieces, we returned to Dieppe,
collared the omnibus old woman (whom we found on the point of
strangling Ascena), and got her sent to prison, where she very
properly committed suicide to save us further embarrassment. After
these preliminaries had been successfully accomplished, I am pleased
to say that Ascena enjoyed peaceful dreams and sweet repose.
There now ! I have cleared up things pretty well, and don't think
it bad for a first attempt.
Ascena's Nabeative.
I am married to Captain Chables, and Outhouse is to live with
us for ever. This is pleasant. I am a little disappointed that cir-
cumstances over which I have no control should prevent me from
telling you why I was a foundling, what was done with my juvenile
wardrobe, why my father never returned from Vienna/what on
earth became of my dreams when I sold them to somebody or other
for a pound a day-m fact, what it is all about. You will say
that I am a fraud a mistake, an unconsidered trifle. You will be
r,lf , V CaPtam Chables is very stupid and commonplace.
Alas! there has been a great falling off since the days of Ascena
Lukikglasse! 3
vol. xcni.
l
STRANGE ADVENTURES OF ASCENA LUKINCLASSE.
(By Phil Uppes, Author of "An Out-of-Luck Young Man," "Jack and
Jill went up the, Bill" " The Bishop and his Grandmother," <Ssc
Ascena's Nabbative.
The story which I have to tell is more than strange. It is so
terrible, so incredible, so entirely contrary to all that any ordinary
reader of the London Journal or the " penny dreadfuls" has ever
heard of, that even now I have some doubt in telling it. I happen,
however, to know it is true, and so does my husband. My husband
■will come in presently with his narrative. There! that ought to
make you curious. A very good commencement.
My early life was uneventful. I was a foundling. I was left
with two old ladies (I fancy I may work them up some day into
"character" sketches) by a perfect gentleman, who, after giving
them £200, went away the next morning to Vienna for ever. He
left with these two old ladies a little wardrobe full of clothes, but
there was not a mark, nor so much as an initial, upon a single
thing. They had all been cut out with a Bharp pair of scissors.
This again ought to excite your curiosity. Bear it in mind.
Mysterious parentage—no mother, no marks, and father gone to
Vienna for ever.
The two old ladies kept a school, in which I first was a scholar,
then a teacher. There I remained until I was seventeen, when I
Was tall and strong for my age, and looked more like three or four
and twenty. One day one of the old ladies said to me—■
"Now, my dear, I will tell you what we are going to do. We are
going to sell the school, and buy a little cottage at Bognor. It
doesn't face the sea, and just holds two. So, as we have considered
you more or less our own daughter, we are going to kick you out.
Now don't let's talk any more about it to-day, but tell us to-morrow
at breakfast, like a dear good girl, that we are going to do what
you wish."
"I shall tell you to-morrow," I answered, firmly. "I'll pretend
to think the matter over with all my might and main, until to-
morrow morning, and then give you an answer as solemnly weighed,
and as carefully set out, as a Saturday afternoon essay,"
Sol was kicked out.
I became a governess in the household of Mrs. Cowstbeam:. That
household consisted of the master, whose manner was what old
ladies in Lincolnshire call "rampageous," the children, who were,
beyond doubt, hopelessly dull, and the mistress, who was colourless.
■Nothing particularly happened save my dismissal (after receiving
a salary of about a thousand to twelve-hundred a year) within six
months. "With about four-hundred pounds in hand I went to the
Charing Cross Hotel.
I feel I am a little plot-less. So far : foundling, old ladies at Bog-
DjOr, aimless engagement by Mrs. Cowstbeam and advertisement for
the Charing Cross Hotel. All good in their way, but not quite
enough. I want an incident. I have it.
Having untold gold, I thought I would buy some gloves in the
Tottenham Court Road. I entered an omnibus, was much struck by
an old woman who sat next me, bought the gloves, was arrested as
a thief for passing false money and Baved from penal servitude for
life by old woman. Come, there's action for you! Still, I don't
know why it is, hut we don't seem to get much " forrader.",
. The old woman hurried me about from place to place feeding me
simply on grapes and bonbons. For some reason I was not allowed
to know where I was. I didn't want to, and not caring a brass-
iarthing for the selfish 'old ladies at Bognor, it mattered nothing to
^ whether they heard from me or not. After a time the old woman
asked me to sign this with my blood.
, In consideration of seven pounds a week, I agree to sell my
dreams between sunset and sunrise, the payment ceasing on my
death, and my dreams, if any, immediately becoming only, and
unconditionally my own."
I broke out laughing and signed it. Then the old woman said :—
. 1 am old enough to be your mother, and I am sure you know I
Ieel kindly towards you. I am not entirely my own mistress—think
well of me if you can."
-Chen placing by my side a little bottle of champagne, potted
meats, Devonshire cream, and dainty biscuits of various kinds, she
ieft me. The next day I was kicked out and carried in a carriage to
^awlish. I had a nice little dinner — tender beefsteak, new
Potatoes, asparagas and spinach, a bottle of sound port and a ripe
"tuton. After this, somehow or other,_ I had a restless night. I was
wwmented with strange dreams in which appeared a person whom I
fjaa never seen in my life. Certainly not that I can remember. He
™as an old man wearing an immense opal on his right-hand little
?nger. j ha(j ngygj. sePn 6Uch an opal before. The dream was con-
tused, I can only give these facts about it.
CY\j 's see k°w I am g^ing on> Mysterious parentage. School life.
""I woman in omnibus, ghastly-comical agreement, heavy dinner
°*}d consequent nightmare. Is that all ? No, I have forgotten the
ac»vertisemtnt for the Charing Cross Hotel. All told, I can't say
that there is much in my story._ Must get on. More heavy dinners,
more nightmares. Went to Brighton. Saw Doctor who said, " your
nerves are out of order, you are suffering from a malady called
Incipient Detearia. What do you drink ? "
" Nothing but port, maraschino, and champagne."
"Quite right. Persevere. I am going away for a fortnight.
Continue your diet, and, when I return, I will come and see you
again. By that time your malady will haye reached an acute stage.
By the way, do you ever eat ? "
'1 Not as much as I drink. I sometimes have a plate of turtle
soup, but chiefly as an excuse for a glass of punch."
" Quite so. Good day."
After this, my dreams became more and more confused, and I
grew quite ill. Then I met a gentleman at the table d'hote, called
Captain Chables. He was most kind, asked me on board his yacht,
and, when we had got to Dieppe, said,—
" Miss Ascena, I think we both understand each other. I am
afraid I have done very wrong in kidnapping you. Well, now, I am
going to put a question to you, straight and fair. When the yacht
slipped anchor at Brighton, I had a marriage-licence in our names,
in a morocco case in my pocket, upon which any clergyman on the
Continent is bound to act. It's no Gretna-Green business, I can
assure you."
"I'll talk about it this afternoon, if I am well enough," I said,
holding on to a rope (it was very rough), and, feeling myself turning
deadly pale,
"Are you married already ?" he asked, with a something like a
choking in his mouth.
"No, no, no," I cried. "I like you very much."
I got out of the general embarrassment by fainting away until I
found myself in the Hotel Royal, Dieppe.
Again I pause to say that I fancy somehow I am making a mess of
this story. To my list I have added an absolutely pointless and
superfluous case of kidnapping, which would be unpleasant were it
not ridiculous.
Well, the Doctor came, and said I was to have a large glass of port
wine and a small glass of beef tea every ten minutes. This did me
good. After a few hours of this treatment, feeling more communi-
cative, I told Captain Chables all I have written here. I also
explained to him my difficulty in carrying on my tale without a
collaborateur.
He stooped over me, kissed me gently on the forehead, and said—■
"Never mind, dearest. I will send for a curious old man from
Strasburg, and have myself a shot at the story. Two pens are better
than one."
I could only wonder how it would all end, and.vaguely hope for
the best.
Captain" Chables' Naebative.
My name is Albert Chables. I have a curious old friend who
lives at Strasburg, called Outhouse. I am Chables, his friend. I
wrote to Outhouse and told him Miss Lukinglasse's story—of
course, in unscientific language. He replied, it was deeply interest-
ing, and he would come to me at once. He arrived, and immediately
performed the old "drop of ink trick," where, it will be remembered,
a chap is made to describe what he sees in a little writing-fluid.
Then Outhouse turned to me with a strangely solemn face.
"We have got our finger," said he, " on the tarantula in his hole,
the viper in his lair, the pieuvre in his cave. Such monsters should
not be allowed to live."
I was bewildered. We made our way from Newhaven to Chisle-
hurst. We called upon the old man with the opal, of whom we had
so often talked. He trembled. Outhouse seemed to swell to twice
his natural height. Then the old chap with the opal appeared to
wither under his gaze. Then he changed to all manner of colours,
and literallv exploded. He went off with a feeble bang, like a cheap
firework. Not waiting to pick up his pieces, we returned to Dieppe,
collared the omnibus old woman (whom we found on the point of
strangling Ascena), and got her sent to prison, where she very
properly committed suicide to save us further embarrassment. After
these preliminaries had been successfully accomplished, I am pleased
to say that Ascena enjoyed peaceful dreams and sweet repose.
There now ! I have cleared up things pretty well, and don't think
it bad for a first attempt.
Ascena's Nabeative.
I am married to Captain Chables, and Outhouse is to live with
us for ever. This is pleasant. I am a little disappointed that cir-
cumstances over which I have no control should prevent me from
telling you why I was a foundling, what was done with my juvenile
wardrobe, why my father never returned from Vienna/what on
earth became of my dreams when I sold them to somebody or other
for a pound a day-m fact, what it is all about. You will say
that I am a fraud a mistake, an unconsidered trifle. You will be
r,lf , V CaPtam Chables is very stupid and commonplace.
Alas! there has been a great falling off since the days of Ascena
Lukikglasse! 3
vol. xcni.
l