DOI Heft:
August 17, 1889
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17688#0081
August 17, 1889.]
PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
75
and, as to the uniform, it suits you “ down to
the ground,” as our philologists say.
Our Latest Admiral. Well, you don’t look
bad in yours, my Colonel. Aha ! (Sings)—
“ Now, Emperors all, whoever you may be,
If you want to rise to the top of the tree,
If your souls are not fettered to a landsman’s togs,
If you ’d like to haul your slacks, hare a taste for
girls and grogs;
Stick close to Britannia and to Grandmamma V.
And she ’ll make you an Admiral of the Queen’s
Navee! ”
Royal Colonel. What, Gilbert, tool You
must have been reading up for your new part.
Well, with a knowledge of “ Poor Jack,1’ and
“ H.M.S. Pinafore,” you ’ll pass muster any-
where. Very touching little reminiscence,
that of yours, Nephew, about your youthful
yearnings for Membership of the R.Y.S.,
realised to-day so happily. Quite like young
Dickens and Gadshili, you know.
Our Latest Admiral. Yes, or Wilson Bar-
rett and Hamlet, eh, Uncle ?
Royal Colonel. Another light, Emperor-
Admiral ?
Our Latest Admiral. Thanks, Prince-Com-
modore-Colonel !
Royal Colonel. Ah, yes. I’m a Commo-
dore, too—if it comes to that. (Sings)—
11 This is no time for a seaman to skulk
Under gingerbread hatches ashore !
In a dandy yacht, or a huge war-hulk,
At need I could figure once more.
Press-puppies as they pass
May cock a squinting-glass,
And run down the Young Commodore :—
He’s a staunch Young Commodore,
A tough Young Commodore,
A fighting Young Commodore, he !
And he hasn’t any doubt,
If they called the Navy out,
They would always find him trim and fit for sea.”
You see our National Nautical Muse is no
stranger to me, either,—though she’s more
in Alfred’s line, perhaps. As to Prince
Henry, with his “ Jack forward as well as
aft,” and “ We all love Jack” why, he
made all the Jacks love him at once.
Our Latest Admiral. Well, yes. I think
Henry, “took the cake,”—as your philo-
logists put it. I hope we shall enjoy our-
selves as much at Aldershot as we have at
Portsmouth and Cowes.
Royal Colonel. Humph! ‘ ‘ Our poor little
Army,” as the Poet Laureate once called it,
is perhaps-
Our Latest Admiral. Like our poor little
Navy, excellent—as far as it goes, eh, mon
Prince? Well, well, your Eleet is, as I
said, post-prandially perhaps, but sincerely,
“ the finest in the world,” whilst our Army
is “equal to our wants”—for the present
anyhow, Hope Otto won’t object to that
remark as too panglossian. You in German
military uniform, and I as a British Admiral,
ought to he “a most important factor for the
maintenance of peace,” eh, Uncle ?
Royal Colonel. As I said. “I trust the
great German Army and the Fleet we reviewed
yesterday will tend to preserve the peace of
the world.” In fact, if armies and navies
could preserve it, Peace ought to be as safe as
—as—an Admiral’s sea-legs, let us say.
“ If you love me as I love you,
What change can come betwixt us two ? ”
as the old rustic posy-rings put it.
Our Latest Admiral. And very prettily, too,
Prince. I ’ll tell Bismarck and Moltke. Sure
they ’ll rejoice in the entente cordiale neatly
summarised in that couplet. Don’t know that
they care much for poetry, but they both like
pith. Now I must be getting back to the
Hohenzollern. But if, in our respective uni-
forms, we do not, in an extended sense, sym-
bolise “TheUnited Services,” I’m a—French-
man ! Au revoir !
£Exeunt severally.
jT
' /ffrr/ -J
PORTRAIT
Of the fair Mrs. B. as she sits dreamily waiting her Husband’s return Home,
[R.B. — The Slippers belong to Mister B., who is a Gentle'man of magnificent Proportions.
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
Elephant Raising.—It was certainly a happy thought of yours to bring the elephant,
presented to you, as a parting souvenir, by the Rajah of Gobo, and with which you wished
to surprise your Uncle on his birthday, down to his place by the excursion train you men-
tion, especially as the Company seem to have been satisfied with your explanation that he
was your “ luggage,” and charged the creature only at the rate of a single fare in conse-
quence. Still your anxiety to “produce an effect” with him on his entrance having
resulted in his going through the dining-room floor, carrying your Uncle and the five guests
whom he was entertaining all together along with him into the wine-cellar, where he now
appears to be imbedded,—you must not be surprised that your Uncle’s temper was some-
what ruffled at the incident. In getting the Yicar and the fifty villagers to which you allude
to endeavour to haul the creature out with ropes, you are no doubt on the right tack, but as
they appear to have been endeavouring to move him from one o’clock in the morning to
three the next afternoon, without, however, any result, it will perhaps be simpler to pull
down the front of the house as you suggest, and make a passage for his exit by blowing up
the adjacent lawn with gunpowder. A little lighted under the elephant himself might
assist him by giving him an impetus. Have you tried this? Yes, if your Uncle turns
“ nasty,” as you fear he may, not seeing the thing from your point of view, certainly
put the whole matter into the hands of a Solicitor and there leave it.
Falconry for Beginners.—Having purchased your hawks, as you say, “young and
wild,” you had better quickly procure some shilling Hand-book, and set about training
them. We do not know much about it, but believe you have to strap their legs, and attach
a dinner-bell to them, attracting the birds to their feeding-place by a steam-whistle or fog-
horn. Your notion of “ accustoming them to try their wings ” in the Reading-Room of the
British Museum, if practicable, is quite admirable. The apartment is sufficiently large to
enable you to test them thoroughly, and if the habitues are disturbed, it will only show that
their work cannot be of sufficient importance to monopolise their attention. If the birds
attack the officials in the centre desk, the incident should cause almost endless amusement.
Your idea of practising them on the fowls in your next-door neighbour’s poultry-yard
is also excellent. You appear to have got “ fresh ” birds, of the right sort, from the fact
you mention of one of them swooping down on the local milkman as he was coming on
his rounds; still, it is awkward that the creature should have pecked a piece out or his
ear; and we should really not be. surprised if you were to hear more of the matter. We
think the birds should be fed on tinned lobster; but ask any pork-butcher.
PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
75
and, as to the uniform, it suits you “ down to
the ground,” as our philologists say.
Our Latest Admiral. Well, you don’t look
bad in yours, my Colonel. Aha ! (Sings)—
“ Now, Emperors all, whoever you may be,
If you want to rise to the top of the tree,
If your souls are not fettered to a landsman’s togs,
If you ’d like to haul your slacks, hare a taste for
girls and grogs;
Stick close to Britannia and to Grandmamma V.
And she ’ll make you an Admiral of the Queen’s
Navee! ”
Royal Colonel. What, Gilbert, tool You
must have been reading up for your new part.
Well, with a knowledge of “ Poor Jack,1’ and
“ H.M.S. Pinafore,” you ’ll pass muster any-
where. Very touching little reminiscence,
that of yours, Nephew, about your youthful
yearnings for Membership of the R.Y.S.,
realised to-day so happily. Quite like young
Dickens and Gadshili, you know.
Our Latest Admiral. Yes, or Wilson Bar-
rett and Hamlet, eh, Uncle ?
Royal Colonel. Another light, Emperor-
Admiral ?
Our Latest Admiral. Thanks, Prince-Com-
modore-Colonel !
Royal Colonel. Ah, yes. I’m a Commo-
dore, too—if it comes to that. (Sings)—
11 This is no time for a seaman to skulk
Under gingerbread hatches ashore !
In a dandy yacht, or a huge war-hulk,
At need I could figure once more.
Press-puppies as they pass
May cock a squinting-glass,
And run down the Young Commodore :—
He’s a staunch Young Commodore,
A tough Young Commodore,
A fighting Young Commodore, he !
And he hasn’t any doubt,
If they called the Navy out,
They would always find him trim and fit for sea.”
You see our National Nautical Muse is no
stranger to me, either,—though she’s more
in Alfred’s line, perhaps. As to Prince
Henry, with his “ Jack forward as well as
aft,” and “ We all love Jack” why, he
made all the Jacks love him at once.
Our Latest Admiral. Well, yes. I think
Henry, “took the cake,”—as your philo-
logists put it. I hope we shall enjoy our-
selves as much at Aldershot as we have at
Portsmouth and Cowes.
Royal Colonel. Humph! ‘ ‘ Our poor little
Army,” as the Poet Laureate once called it,
is perhaps-
Our Latest Admiral. Like our poor little
Navy, excellent—as far as it goes, eh, mon
Prince? Well, well, your Eleet is, as I
said, post-prandially perhaps, but sincerely,
“ the finest in the world,” whilst our Army
is “equal to our wants”—for the present
anyhow, Hope Otto won’t object to that
remark as too panglossian. You in German
military uniform, and I as a British Admiral,
ought to he “a most important factor for the
maintenance of peace,” eh, Uncle ?
Royal Colonel. As I said. “I trust the
great German Army and the Fleet we reviewed
yesterday will tend to preserve the peace of
the world.” In fact, if armies and navies
could preserve it, Peace ought to be as safe as
—as—an Admiral’s sea-legs, let us say.
“ If you love me as I love you,
What change can come betwixt us two ? ”
as the old rustic posy-rings put it.
Our Latest Admiral. And very prettily, too,
Prince. I ’ll tell Bismarck and Moltke. Sure
they ’ll rejoice in the entente cordiale neatly
summarised in that couplet. Don’t know that
they care much for poetry, but they both like
pith. Now I must be getting back to the
Hohenzollern. But if, in our respective uni-
forms, we do not, in an extended sense, sym-
bolise “TheUnited Services,” I’m a—French-
man ! Au revoir !
£Exeunt severally.
jT
' /ffrr/ -J
PORTRAIT
Of the fair Mrs. B. as she sits dreamily waiting her Husband’s return Home,
[R.B. — The Slippers belong to Mister B., who is a Gentle'man of magnificent Proportions.
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
Elephant Raising.—It was certainly a happy thought of yours to bring the elephant,
presented to you, as a parting souvenir, by the Rajah of Gobo, and with which you wished
to surprise your Uncle on his birthday, down to his place by the excursion train you men-
tion, especially as the Company seem to have been satisfied with your explanation that he
was your “ luggage,” and charged the creature only at the rate of a single fare in conse-
quence. Still your anxiety to “produce an effect” with him on his entrance having
resulted in his going through the dining-room floor, carrying your Uncle and the five guests
whom he was entertaining all together along with him into the wine-cellar, where he now
appears to be imbedded,—you must not be surprised that your Uncle’s temper was some-
what ruffled at the incident. In getting the Yicar and the fifty villagers to which you allude
to endeavour to haul the creature out with ropes, you are no doubt on the right tack, but as
they appear to have been endeavouring to move him from one o’clock in the morning to
three the next afternoon, without, however, any result, it will perhaps be simpler to pull
down the front of the house as you suggest, and make a passage for his exit by blowing up
the adjacent lawn with gunpowder. A little lighted under the elephant himself might
assist him by giving him an impetus. Have you tried this? Yes, if your Uncle turns
“ nasty,” as you fear he may, not seeing the thing from your point of view, certainly
put the whole matter into the hands of a Solicitor and there leave it.
Falconry for Beginners.—Having purchased your hawks, as you say, “young and
wild,” you had better quickly procure some shilling Hand-book, and set about training
them. We do not know much about it, but believe you have to strap their legs, and attach
a dinner-bell to them, attracting the birds to their feeding-place by a steam-whistle or fog-
horn. Your notion of “ accustoming them to try their wings ” in the Reading-Room of the
British Museum, if practicable, is quite admirable. The apartment is sufficiently large to
enable you to test them thoroughly, and if the habitues are disturbed, it will only show that
their work cannot be of sufficient importance to monopolise their attention. If the birds
attack the officials in the centre desk, the incident should cause almost endless amusement.
Your idea of practising them on the fowls in your next-door neighbour’s poultry-yard
is also excellent. You appear to have got “ fresh ” birds, of the right sort, from the fact
you mention of one of them swooping down on the local milkman as he was coming on
his rounds; still, it is awkward that the creature should have pecked a piece out or his
ear; and we should really not be. surprised if you were to hear more of the matter. We
think the birds should be fed on tinned lobster; but ask any pork-butcher.