DOI issue:
September 24, 1887
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17658#0150
144
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[September 24, 1887.
twenty minutes, skivering at thought of what would happen sup-
posing hath sprang a leak. Luncheon at one, strictly supervised;
between three and five, more tumblers of water at another Well, with
more vigorous walks round and round, as if you were looking for the
Post Office, couldn't find it, and began to feel certain you would
miss the next despatch. Dinner at six, with the shadow of the
good Doctor Deetz pervading the place, and ordering off all the
toothsome dishes. Afterwards a stroll in the Kurhaus, where the
band is playing, and men, maids, and matrons, not all quite so
young as they were, chatter and flirt.
Such is our life in Homburg, enlivened, about a fortnight ago,
by great scandal, which wild horses Bhall not drag from me. But
ask any lady fresh from Homburg. Will, at first, say, "No, she
really can't; too painful," and so on. But apres, le deluge of
confidence.__
SOME NOTES AT STARMOUTH.
In Professor Skittles' chair—with the sun in my eyes. He has
not begun to read my character yet; he is still measuring—with tape
this time. I must say he takes great pains. Blazer contingent
has moved up closer ; they pretend to recognise me as " Cousin Bill."
Take no notice of them—try to fix my thoughts far away—on Ethel
Deeing. How pretty she looked that night! Wonder, if I had
plucked up my courage and spoken, whether she might not have-
However, I didn't, and she couldn't. How full is life of these
missed opportunities! ("You're leaving out his nose, Guv'nor!"
from a Blazer, and giggles from idiotic girls in front.) I feel very
forlorn and friendless up here. Professor has finished measuring,
and is preparing to "delineate" me.
Cross my legs, and compose myself to listen seriously. (" Cheer up,
Sir; he '11 tell you when he's going to 'urt you!" yelps a beast in the
background.)
" Here we 'ave a gentleman," says the Professor, passing his hand
along the top of my head, " in some respects rather a contrast to our
last subject." (I should hope so,
indeed/) "This gentleman's 'ed is
the second largest we have had under
examination to-day." ("'Ear-'ear! "
from the Blazers, and a meaningless
suggestion that I should "make a good
'atter!") "His Mental Brain is
scarcely so large as we might expect;
in fact, if the development _ of the
lower brain were in proportion, we
should find the gentleman—well, I
was going to say, an idiot. Fortu-
J my yet. nateiy the brain) though not tall, is
wide. He has Firmness, Energy, and what we call Driving Power,
very large. This is a very curious gentleman"—("Oughter be
stuffed! " puts in a ruffian, and everybody laughs—even the Pro-
fessoi—confound him!—smiles indulgently.) "He likes to go
everywhere, and see everything. He can sit down to a good dinner,
and enjoy it." (Shouldn't have thought that a rare characteristic—
but it delights the audience.) "His Self-Esteem is large." (There
he is quite wrong—I haven't nearly enough!) "Acquisitiveness
also large ; this gentleman believes in getting the full value for his
money." (Don't believe I shall get it here, at all events!) "He is
very cheerful and social." ("Don't he look it, too! " from a Blazer,
and, of course, roars of laughter.) " In fact, if he were a little less
social, it would be better." (This to me—who have come down here
for absolute seclusion. This Professor is a fool!) "He will be fond
of his children and of his wife." (" And can't she comb his 'air for
him! " from the usual quarter, I am a bachelor, and this sort of
thing is getting scandalous.) Professor says, "I must appeal to this
gentleman's friends "—(this gentleman's " friends ! ")—"to keep a
little more quiet while we are delineating. There is very small
Eventuality—we should like to see a little more Eventuality—he
must try to cultivate his Eventuality." (Indeed f Perhaps he will
kindly tell me how I am to set about it!) " Approbativeness large ;
so we shall see him very anxious to
gain the good opinion of others."
(When I don't care a straiv what
people say of me! Phrenology is
bosh—absolute bosh!) " Destructive-
ness small; this is not a gentleman
who will do very much damage."
(Sighs of mock relief from Blazers.)
"Nor is he, we should find, particu-
larly combative." . . . ("You'aven't
seen 'im of a Saturday night," inter-
rupts some vulgar brute.) Psha!—I
won't listen; regard the audience How me 0!
with calm reproach. What a face that is on the second bench! what
a pair of brown eyes !—kind of eyes Juliet must have had. Ethel's
are light grey—what a serious, simple expression! She is not gig-
gling, like all those fools—I could almost fancy she feels for me.
How superior she seems to all the rest. Ethel Deking herself could
not look more exquisitely out of place. In fact, I am not sure that
Ethel would keep her countenance so well as this girl, who is bend-
ing forward with parted lips, and that sweet, interested light in her
eyes. ... 1 am getting sentimental. Was Romeo ever "deline-
ated" ? Professor is summing me up—I may as well listen.
" This is a gentleman of excellent business ability, and I should
sayhe would be perfectly capable of managing a tolerably large
business concern." ("Then how was it he got the sack from the
'am-and-beef shop? inquired one of the pests.) "He is pushing
and energetic, and he would get on well—even in a 'olesale business."
(He is growing absolutely fulsome !) " If in business for himself, we
shall not find him in a hurry to shut up his shop exactly at the hour
of closing, if he thinks he could make more by keeping open a little
longer." (Considering that I am in Government employ, with a
decided leaning to literary pursuits, which has not, as yet, met with
much support—this is rather too much, but it would be snobbish,
perhaps, to say anything.) "I may add," concludes the Professor,
with the air of a man who is conceding somewhat, " that this gentle-
man would be qualified to succeed, would do very well, as an artistic
decorator. Are there any questions you would like to ask ?
Not after that—no, none; I haven't the heart to ask him if he
thinks I could write even a creditable
Nautical Drama! Besides, my faith
in Phrenology is shaken. Let me get
away — out of sight and hearing of
these infernal Blazers.
Rise and leave with ironical dignity.
Professor calls me back—thinks I for-
IU got to pay my shilling. Annoying,
'J///i because it had escaped me. "You
M didn't tell us he had a bump for bilk-
« | in*!" jeers a fiend — "bilking," I
■^A^jetaiu!^/^ ty//' believe, is 'Arryan for going away
" Parting is such, sweet sorrow." without paying. Ironical dignity a
Shakspeare. failure. "Will I pay half-a-crown
extra, and have a written report of my character ? " I will not.
Blazers seem sorry to part with me.
Afternoon.—Too much depressed to work at Drama. Sands again.
Crowd—Conjuror. I shall see this time. "I want a soft gentle-
man's hat," he says, suddenly. "Do you mind?" He takes mine
—the crowd roar. "Will I assist him in this trick ? " I did not
mean to catch his eye—but I don't like to be disobliging.
I am in the centre with the Conjuror. "May he do what he
pleases with my hat ? " " By all means," I say, graciously. Then
he'll keep it, he says. Childish joke that! "You're quite sure
there's no hole in it ? " he asks. 1 am not, I tell him, in the habit
of wearing a hat with a hole in it. " Ain't you really ? how do you
get your head in?" he retorts, sharply. Very old—but Starmouth
people easily amused.
" Do I ever toss for drinks ? " No, I do not. Then he will show
me how to do so, and win every time. He tosses up a penny on the
little table, and covers it with my hat. " Which do I think it is ? "
I say heads—to please him. Again. "Now, Sir, heads or tails?"
I happen to have seen it fall head uppermost—but no doubt he has
manipulated it some way—if I say tails, he will look rather foolish.
Tails, then. Will I lift my hat ? I do
—a guinea-pig! Renewed roars. I
ought to be above feeling annoyed at
this tomfoolery—but these conjuring
fellows go too far.
Evening.—On Pier. Military Band.
Bazaar: ladies and children touting
for it. Wonder whether my "Firm-
ness" is as large as Professor Skit-
tles declared. — Because I certainly
never intended to buy a box of cracker-
bonbons, or a basket of ripe tomatoes
—and yet here I am, carrying them Here 8 foH.thy Panea-
about! And when I took a ticket for a . . Shakspeare.
raffle, I hardly counted upon winning this particularly gaudy sofa-
cushion. Clergyman wants to sell me a very small plumcake, only
three shillings .... I find I can be firm after all.
The girl with the brown eyes is on the pier, too, with a stout
respectable old female—probably her maid. I think they recognise
me as the victim of Phrenology; they glance at me with interest.
Ah me ! I wish—I wish, but what is the use of wishing ?
In the Bazaar again. Young lady proposes to tell me my fortune
for a penny, with a revolving card. I am in a superstitious mood.—I
want encouraging. She spins the card; the dial indicates, as she
informs me, with unnecessary glee, "You spend your time in
trifles."—Is a Nautical Drama a " trifle," I should like to know ? I
can't be quite the thing, for this incident affepts me almost to tears.
I have had a depressing day. Bed in low spirits.
NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will
in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule
there will be no exception.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[September 24, 1887.
twenty minutes, skivering at thought of what would happen sup-
posing hath sprang a leak. Luncheon at one, strictly supervised;
between three and five, more tumblers of water at another Well, with
more vigorous walks round and round, as if you were looking for the
Post Office, couldn't find it, and began to feel certain you would
miss the next despatch. Dinner at six, with the shadow of the
good Doctor Deetz pervading the place, and ordering off all the
toothsome dishes. Afterwards a stroll in the Kurhaus, where the
band is playing, and men, maids, and matrons, not all quite so
young as they were, chatter and flirt.
Such is our life in Homburg, enlivened, about a fortnight ago,
by great scandal, which wild horses Bhall not drag from me. But
ask any lady fresh from Homburg. Will, at first, say, "No, she
really can't; too painful," and so on. But apres, le deluge of
confidence.__
SOME NOTES AT STARMOUTH.
In Professor Skittles' chair—with the sun in my eyes. He has
not begun to read my character yet; he is still measuring—with tape
this time. I must say he takes great pains. Blazer contingent
has moved up closer ; they pretend to recognise me as " Cousin Bill."
Take no notice of them—try to fix my thoughts far away—on Ethel
Deeing. How pretty she looked that night! Wonder, if I had
plucked up my courage and spoken, whether she might not have-
However, I didn't, and she couldn't. How full is life of these
missed opportunities! ("You're leaving out his nose, Guv'nor!"
from a Blazer, and giggles from idiotic girls in front.) I feel very
forlorn and friendless up here. Professor has finished measuring,
and is preparing to "delineate" me.
Cross my legs, and compose myself to listen seriously. (" Cheer up,
Sir; he '11 tell you when he's going to 'urt you!" yelps a beast in the
background.)
" Here we 'ave a gentleman," says the Professor, passing his hand
along the top of my head, " in some respects rather a contrast to our
last subject." (I should hope so,
indeed/) "This gentleman's 'ed is
the second largest we have had under
examination to-day." ("'Ear-'ear! "
from the Blazers, and a meaningless
suggestion that I should "make a good
'atter!") "His Mental Brain is
scarcely so large as we might expect;
in fact, if the development _ of the
lower brain were in proportion, we
should find the gentleman—well, I
was going to say, an idiot. Fortu-
J my yet. nateiy the brain) though not tall, is
wide. He has Firmness, Energy, and what we call Driving Power,
very large. This is a very curious gentleman"—("Oughter be
stuffed! " puts in a ruffian, and everybody laughs—even the Pro-
fessoi—confound him!—smiles indulgently.) "He likes to go
everywhere, and see everything. He can sit down to a good dinner,
and enjoy it." (Shouldn't have thought that a rare characteristic—
but it delights the audience.) "His Self-Esteem is large." (There
he is quite wrong—I haven't nearly enough!) "Acquisitiveness
also large ; this gentleman believes in getting the full value for his
money." (Don't believe I shall get it here, at all events!) "He is
very cheerful and social." ("Don't he look it, too! " from a Blazer,
and, of course, roars of laughter.) " In fact, if he were a little less
social, it would be better." (This to me—who have come down here
for absolute seclusion. This Professor is a fool!) "He will be fond
of his children and of his wife." (" And can't she comb his 'air for
him! " from the usual quarter, I am a bachelor, and this sort of
thing is getting scandalous.) Professor says, "I must appeal to this
gentleman's friends "—(this gentleman's " friends ! ")—"to keep a
little more quiet while we are delineating. There is very small
Eventuality—we should like to see a little more Eventuality—he
must try to cultivate his Eventuality." (Indeed f Perhaps he will
kindly tell me how I am to set about it!) " Approbativeness large ;
so we shall see him very anxious to
gain the good opinion of others."
(When I don't care a straiv what
people say of me! Phrenology is
bosh—absolute bosh!) " Destructive-
ness small; this is not a gentleman
who will do very much damage."
(Sighs of mock relief from Blazers.)
"Nor is he, we should find, particu-
larly combative." . . . ("You'aven't
seen 'im of a Saturday night," inter-
rupts some vulgar brute.) Psha!—I
won't listen; regard the audience How me 0!
with calm reproach. What a face that is on the second bench! what
a pair of brown eyes !—kind of eyes Juliet must have had. Ethel's
are light grey—what a serious, simple expression! She is not gig-
gling, like all those fools—I could almost fancy she feels for me.
How superior she seems to all the rest. Ethel Deking herself could
not look more exquisitely out of place. In fact, I am not sure that
Ethel would keep her countenance so well as this girl, who is bend-
ing forward with parted lips, and that sweet, interested light in her
eyes. ... 1 am getting sentimental. Was Romeo ever "deline-
ated" ? Professor is summing me up—I may as well listen.
" This is a gentleman of excellent business ability, and I should
sayhe would be perfectly capable of managing a tolerably large
business concern." ("Then how was it he got the sack from the
'am-and-beef shop? inquired one of the pests.) "He is pushing
and energetic, and he would get on well—even in a 'olesale business."
(He is growing absolutely fulsome !) " If in business for himself, we
shall not find him in a hurry to shut up his shop exactly at the hour
of closing, if he thinks he could make more by keeping open a little
longer." (Considering that I am in Government employ, with a
decided leaning to literary pursuits, which has not, as yet, met with
much support—this is rather too much, but it would be snobbish,
perhaps, to say anything.) "I may add," concludes the Professor,
with the air of a man who is conceding somewhat, " that this gentle-
man would be qualified to succeed, would do very well, as an artistic
decorator. Are there any questions you would like to ask ?
Not after that—no, none; I haven't the heart to ask him if he
thinks I could write even a creditable
Nautical Drama! Besides, my faith
in Phrenology is shaken. Let me get
away — out of sight and hearing of
these infernal Blazers.
Rise and leave with ironical dignity.
Professor calls me back—thinks I for-
IU got to pay my shilling. Annoying,
'J///i because it had escaped me. "You
M didn't tell us he had a bump for bilk-
« | in*!" jeers a fiend — "bilking," I
■^A^jetaiu!^/^ ty//' believe, is 'Arryan for going away
" Parting is such, sweet sorrow." without paying. Ironical dignity a
Shakspeare. failure. "Will I pay half-a-crown
extra, and have a written report of my character ? " I will not.
Blazers seem sorry to part with me.
Afternoon.—Too much depressed to work at Drama. Sands again.
Crowd—Conjuror. I shall see this time. "I want a soft gentle-
man's hat," he says, suddenly. "Do you mind?" He takes mine
—the crowd roar. "Will I assist him in this trick ? " I did not
mean to catch his eye—but I don't like to be disobliging.
I am in the centre with the Conjuror. "May he do what he
pleases with my hat ? " " By all means," I say, graciously. Then
he'll keep it, he says. Childish joke that! "You're quite sure
there's no hole in it ? " he asks. 1 am not, I tell him, in the habit
of wearing a hat with a hole in it. " Ain't you really ? how do you
get your head in?" he retorts, sharply. Very old—but Starmouth
people easily amused.
" Do I ever toss for drinks ? " No, I do not. Then he will show
me how to do so, and win every time. He tosses up a penny on the
little table, and covers it with my hat. " Which do I think it is ? "
I say heads—to please him. Again. "Now, Sir, heads or tails?"
I happen to have seen it fall head uppermost—but no doubt he has
manipulated it some way—if I say tails, he will look rather foolish.
Tails, then. Will I lift my hat ? I do
—a guinea-pig! Renewed roars. I
ought to be above feeling annoyed at
this tomfoolery—but these conjuring
fellows go too far.
Evening.—On Pier. Military Band.
Bazaar: ladies and children touting
for it. Wonder whether my "Firm-
ness" is as large as Professor Skit-
tles declared. — Because I certainly
never intended to buy a box of cracker-
bonbons, or a basket of ripe tomatoes
—and yet here I am, carrying them Here 8 foH.thy Panea-
about! And when I took a ticket for a . . Shakspeare.
raffle, I hardly counted upon winning this particularly gaudy sofa-
cushion. Clergyman wants to sell me a very small plumcake, only
three shillings .... I find I can be firm after all.
The girl with the brown eyes is on the pier, too, with a stout
respectable old female—probably her maid. I think they recognise
me as the victim of Phrenology; they glance at me with interest.
Ah me ! I wish—I wish, but what is the use of wishing ?
In the Bazaar again. Young lady proposes to tell me my fortune
for a penny, with a revolving card. I am in a superstitious mood.—I
want encouraging. She spins the card; the dial indicates, as she
informs me, with unnecessary glee, "You spend your time in
trifles."—Is a Nautical Drama a " trifle," I should like to know ? I
can't be quite the thing, for this incident affepts me almost to tears.
I have had a depressing day. Bed in low spirits.
NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will
in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule
there will be no exception.