Punch (94.1888)

102

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[March 3, 1888.

THE MYSTERIES OF HEREDITY.

Dr. Lambertson, "Yes—fine Girl; but look at her Mother, Danny! If you want to know exactly what Young Girls

will be like when they're MlDDLE-aqed, always look at their mothers, MY boy,—AND beware!"

Sis Son. "Oh Lor, Governor! I say! . . . Does the same rule apply to Young Fellows and their Fathers?"

" THE BEST OE EMENDS."

{Some Fragments from Dickens, adapted to the Situation.)

Mrs. Gamp—Mr. W. H. Sm-th. Mrs. Prig—Mr. "W. E. Gl-d-st-ne.
*»«**»

The temper of both parties was improved for the time being.
When Mrs. Gamp, having cleared away, produced the tea-pot from
the top shelf, simultaneously with a couple of wine-glasses, they
were quite amiable.

"Betsey," said Mrs. Gamp, filling her own glass, and passing the
tea-pot, " I will now propoge a toast. My present pardner, The
Opposition I"

" Which, altering the name to The Government! I drink," said
Mrs. Prig, " with love and tenderness."

Mrs. Prig, whose remarkable voice was not wholly incapable (as
was well known both to her friends and her foes) of the more strident
inflections of anger and scorn, absolutely " cooed " out this senti-
ment, with a seductive softness that would have done no discredit to
"the Dove and very blessed Spirit of Peace" itself.

"Wow, Sairah," said Mrs. Prig, after a due interval, "joining
business with pleasure, wot is this oase in which yer wants my assist-
ance ? " Mrs.JjAMP betraying in herface someintention of returning

that,
at any rate."

'' Why should you be glad of that, Betsey ? " Mrs. Gamp retorted,
warmly. " The case is unbeknown to you, except by hearsay; why
should you be glad i That is a case, Betsey, in which I should not
think of seekin' your assistance, seeing as our notion of treatment
thereof is as opposite as yaller and green."

" Percisely so, Sairah," responded Mrs. Prig, with portentous
emphasis. .

The best amon? us have their feelings, and it must be conceded of
Mrs. Prig, that if there was a blemish in her disposition it was an

aggravating habit she had of subtly suggesting, whether by oracular
word or significant expression, a great deal more than she actually
said. This subtle trick of hers, whilst it made her many covert
enemies amongst her ostensible friends, prevented her oftentimes
from securing temporary friends amongst her normal enemies. It is
certain that her countenance became about this time quite Sphinx-
like in its significancy, and that she sat with her arms folded and
one eye open, in a somewhat offensive, because obtrusively intelli-
gent manner, as who should say, "Mild I may look, and mother's
milk I may speak, but I am a very Old Monthly Hand, and you
don't get over me."

" You think aperiently, Betsey Prig," said Mrs. Gamp, " that
my treatment of that same Irish case is bound to be weak. Excuge
me if I makes remark, that it may neither be so weak as people
thinks, nor people may not think it so weak as they pretends ; and
what I knows, I knows; and what you don't, you don't; so do not
ask me, Betsey."

" Who's a asking of you, Sairey?" Mrs. Prig inquired.

Mrs. Gamp returned no answer.

" Who's a asking of you, Satreyf " Mrs. Prig inquired again.
Then Mrs. Prig, by reversing the question, imparted a deeper and
more awful character of solemnity to the same. " Sairey, who's
a asking of you ? "

It seemed the nearest possible approach to a very decided differ-
ence of opinion between these two ladies ; but Mrs. PRiG's impatience
to know more of the contents of that tea7pot being greater at the
moment than her impatienoe of contradiction, she did not push the
question too pertinaciously, and when Mrs. Gamp replied rather
evasively, " Nobody, if you don't, Betsey," she sombrely but
silently acquiesced in that peace-making process known as " drop-
ping the subject." For a quarrel can be taken up at any time, but
a limited and uncertain quantity of, let us say refreshment, in a tea-
pot cannot.

As to the particular ingredients which constituted the mixture in
that tea-pot, Mrs. Prig felt and displayed a devouring curiosity. _ So
mush so that she presently counterfeited that abstraction of mind