Punch: Punch (96.1889)

February 9, 1889.] PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI.


DISABILITY.

“Oh—-a—Davis, could you blow the Organ for me this afternoon at
St. Ann’s ? ”

“I DOUBT I won’t BE MUCH USE, MlSS. I ’AD BrOWN-KITIS ONCE, AND

Doctor ses as I’m touched in the Wind ! ”

PATERFAMILIAS LOQUITUR.

The holidays are o’er! no more we see
Boots in all places where no boots should be ;

No more the hungry brood sweeps clear the platter
With the perpetual grace of cheery chatter ;

No more the bolster battle-cries are borne
Through the warm slumbers of the early morn.

No more indignant James comes in to tell
How Master Tom has stormed his citadel,

And, scorning covert threat, and suasion soft,

Rules for an hour the monarch of the loft.

Once more ’ tis safe the shrubbery paths to tread
Without a javelin hurtling by one’s head ;

No longer lurk behind the orchard-trees
White-headed Indians, chubby Soudanese •

And neighbouring pigs wallow with wonted grace,
Free from the terrors of the sudden chase.

Again we face the frost, without dismay
Lest we be called to skate an hour ere day,

Or with a book endure a day-long fall
Secure from lawless cricket in the hall.

Now in the servants’ mystic realm again
Their ancient order and decorum reign ;

Yet can I read in Bibb’s, the butler’s, eye,

A latent sorrow for the larks gone by.

Unruffled now in temper, and in look
Sedate and calm once more is Mrs. Cook.

Yet all her larder’s treasures she ’d explore,

And spend her skill to greet the boys once more.

The Coachman, as a Lord Chief Justice grave,

His loved solemnity no more must waive ;

Majestic silence seals his lips, and yet
I know his dignity is half regret.

For now the lords of home’s fair pastures free,
Plunge in the schoolroom’s fierce democratic ;

Now in reluctant ears the school-bell sounds ;

On the soaked grass once more the football bounds ;
The home-sick novice hears the horrid thud,

And headlong prints his flannels in the mud.

Now ponder sullen brows o’er Homer’s page,

While luckless masters share Achilles’ rage,

And rising scholars mourn their studious lot,

And brand the classic hards as “ awful rot.”

Ah ! though at home the endless clamours cease,
There is much desert to a little peace.

Come, Easter, come, to Pater and to boys,

And bring them back with all their tricks and noise.

ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Novelty in Drawing Room Decoration.—You are quite right in
these days, in your opinion, that to be “ peculiar ” is everything, and
some of your ideas for stealing a march on your neighbours in the
matter of originality are quite admirable. Your papering your draw-
ing-room ceiling with back numbers of the Daily Telegraph is, to begin
with, a most happy inspiration. By all means have up the kitchen
dresser. You can cover this with cracked soup-plates and tubs con-
taining large laurel plants. These, too, you may continue round the
room on brackets, placing several conspicuously on the over-mantel.
Your suggestion, too, that you should paint your muslin curtains in
broad stripes or spots with Aspinall’s Enamel is excellent. Your
floors, dado, arm-chairs, rugs, cushions, could also with advantage
be treated with this useful decorative compound. Fill up the corners
of your room with trophies of straw, and, taking up your carpet, cut it
in lengths, and nail it tapestry-wise in festoons over your doors. This
is very effective. But your taste will direct you, and you will soon
find that, with a very little effort, you can easily succeed in rendering
your rooms remarkable.

Lion Taming.—Your safest plan of becoming an efficient “Lion
Tamer ” would he, unquestionably, as you suggest, to secure two
three-day-old cubs, and feed them by hand in your own drawing-
room with raw mutton-chops. As soon, however, as they begin to
grow you must be on the look out; they are sure to spring on you
sooner or later. We believe a great deal can be done with a glass
eye, red-hot pincers, and a heavily-loaded riding-whip ; hut we
should advise you, when the creatures are full-grown, to keep them
in something more secure than the hen-house you mention. Your
best plan, when they are really getting savage, would, perhaps, be
to take a few finishing lessons of any well-known “ Lion King.”
Your desire to accomplish the feat of holding your head in the brute’s
mouth is natural, and. doe3 credit to your professional spirit, hut we
would recommend you to make your first essay on some aged beast,
who has lost all his teeth, and has already dined. But if you are
determined to succeed in this risky experiment, you had better take

the bull by the horns and attempt it in a diver's helmet. This may
somewhat incommode and even surprise the Ron ; but, on the whole,
it will give you your best chance of coming through the ordeal in
safety.

To Remove the Effect of Inkstains on Blue Satin Furniture.
—Having had the misfortune to upset a bottle of ink over the light
blue satin seat of an armchair of your handsome Louis XIII.
drawing-room suite, your best plan will be to make the rest of it
match as simply as possible. Get, therefore, several more bottles of
ink and proceed to “splotch” all the other chairs, sofas, and otto-
mans recklessly in like manner. Having done this, give out to your
friends boldly that it is a new Japanese design from Paris, and you
may be tolerably sure that though they will stare, they will admire
and finally endeavour to match it. A red-hot poker and blotting-
paper will be of no use. Don’t hesitate, therefore, but go boldly to
work.

How to Utilise a Fire-Escape.—We think that having won the
fire-escape in the raffle you mention, you were bound to receive it on
delivery, and think you have done wisely to consign it, for the
moment, to your front area. Take care, however, that it does not
prove a means of admitting a burglar to your top storey, upon which,
while the fire-escape occupies its present position, you will certainly
do well to keep one or two armed detectives continually on the _ qui
vine. Yes, you can certainly cut off the ladder and turn it into
kitchen chairs, and use the carriage part as a sort of low-pitched dog-
cart, and, hiring a cab-horse, put in an appearance in it, as you
suggest, in the park. But painted black it would make a nice sort
of handy open, two-wheeled hearse, that might possibly be patronised
now and then by a deceased friend of a sporting turn.. This is only
a suggestion. But think it out. There is something in it.

We read in the Times that “the Illustrated London News has
offered to erect a facsimile of Shakspeare’s House on the Champ de
Mars during the Exhibition.” Of course “ The House of Mollere
will he delighted. Perhaps the plans will be designed by Mr. Irving,
who says he can draw a good house for Shakspeare at any time.

vol. xcvi.

G