DOI issue:
September 14, 1889
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17688#0131
123
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [September 14, 1889.
UN BON MAUVAIS QUART D’HEURE.
(WAITING FOR ONE’S BATHING TENT AT THE DIEPPE CASINO.)
TROCKS IN TRANCE.
A Respectful Protest.
0 Lady, when leaving our England to visit
At French seaside places, how strangely you dress!
We look at your frock, and we murmur, What is it,
A bathing costume, or attempt to express
Tour scorn of the frog-eating natives, by wearing
A mixture of hues inexpressibly vile ?
With true English insolence haply not caring,
Although well-dressed Frenchwomen sneer with a smile,
And why do you semi-convulsively wriggle,
In aimless contortions of pleasure or pain ?
How is it you try on an infantine giggle ?
Oh, elderly ingenue, prithee explain !
When at home you are not so aggressively skittish,
With antics like monkeys when learning to dance ;
And there ’s one sort of laugh, only heard from the British,
That makes you the terror of masculine France.
Autres pays. autres moeurs. Does the air change demeanour,
That you “ gallivant ” in unfeminine way ?
When at home, you’ve an aspect more staid and serener
Than that which you make us ashamed of to-day.
To the country of Worth why bring frocks so appalling,
And hats so outrageously little or big,
That the very street-boys can’t be scolded for calling
Out words of disdain of your insular rig!
“In the Heat op the Moment.”—The chief commiseration for the
honest Jack-tars returned from the recent Manoeuvres must be
reserved for the stokers on board the Nymphe, the ventilation of
whose engine-room was so deficient that the temperature rose to 113°,
while in the bunkers 180° was registered, a heat which it is not
surprising to hear caused the coal to become ignited ! It is not stated
clearly what remedy is proposed for this state of things; but if the
Lords of the Admiralty turn another crew into the Nymphe without
thoroughly overhauling her, they will certainly be making it hot for
them (and it is to be hoped for themselves) with a vengeance.
“BETWEEN YOU AND ME AND THE POST.”
Mr. Ponch, Sir,—I have been much exercised by a paragraph I
lately saw in an evening paper, in its summary of the Postmaster-
General’s Annual Report on the work of his office. It seems, according
to the veracious journal in question, that there exists “ a tomtit, who
builds her nest in a private letter-box by a farm-gate. For two years
she resented the intrusion of the letters, and pushed them out as fast
as they were placed in the box. This year, however, she permitted
them to remain, and successfully hatched five young ones.” Now,
Sir, this may strike the Postmaster-General as merely a curious and
entertaining fact, but he does not seem sufficiently alive to the grave
inconvenience that would be caused were the example of this misguided
bird to be generally followed by the feathered tribe. _ Speaking for
myself, Sir, as one of the Public, I wish any letters I intrust to the
post to be duly delivered, but I emphatically object to their being
hatched in course of transmission by any bird whatever. If a letter
is posted “ young,” as I presume is the case with all properly posted
missives, how long will it be before it is able to leave the parental
pillar-box ? and, again, how can we be sure that it will retain
sufficient instinct to fly to its original direction ? And—a more
important question still—what manner of fowls will letters posted
and hatched in this highly irregular and officious manner turn out,
on breaking the envelope ? Will you kindly relieve my natural
anxiety on these important points, and allow me to subscribe
myself, A Perplexed Ornithologist.
[The last point is the only one to which Mr. Punch can offer a
reply with any confidence. Letters hatched as his correspondent
describes, would probably turn out either Tell-tale-tits. or Round
Robins. However, such queries open up a wide and interesting
field, which we commend to all students of un-Natural History.]
Verb. Sap.
A little more love between neighbour and neighbour.
In Trade, would work change to move cynics’ astonishment.
Were Capital not so dead set on Hard Labour,
And Labour less eager for Capital Punishment!
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [September 14, 1889.
UN BON MAUVAIS QUART D’HEURE.
(WAITING FOR ONE’S BATHING TENT AT THE DIEPPE CASINO.)
TROCKS IN TRANCE.
A Respectful Protest.
0 Lady, when leaving our England to visit
At French seaside places, how strangely you dress!
We look at your frock, and we murmur, What is it,
A bathing costume, or attempt to express
Tour scorn of the frog-eating natives, by wearing
A mixture of hues inexpressibly vile ?
With true English insolence haply not caring,
Although well-dressed Frenchwomen sneer with a smile,
And why do you semi-convulsively wriggle,
In aimless contortions of pleasure or pain ?
How is it you try on an infantine giggle ?
Oh, elderly ingenue, prithee explain !
When at home you are not so aggressively skittish,
With antics like monkeys when learning to dance ;
And there ’s one sort of laugh, only heard from the British,
That makes you the terror of masculine France.
Autres pays. autres moeurs. Does the air change demeanour,
That you “ gallivant ” in unfeminine way ?
When at home, you’ve an aspect more staid and serener
Than that which you make us ashamed of to-day.
To the country of Worth why bring frocks so appalling,
And hats so outrageously little or big,
That the very street-boys can’t be scolded for calling
Out words of disdain of your insular rig!
“In the Heat op the Moment.”—The chief commiseration for the
honest Jack-tars returned from the recent Manoeuvres must be
reserved for the stokers on board the Nymphe, the ventilation of
whose engine-room was so deficient that the temperature rose to 113°,
while in the bunkers 180° was registered, a heat which it is not
surprising to hear caused the coal to become ignited ! It is not stated
clearly what remedy is proposed for this state of things; but if the
Lords of the Admiralty turn another crew into the Nymphe without
thoroughly overhauling her, they will certainly be making it hot for
them (and it is to be hoped for themselves) with a vengeance.
“BETWEEN YOU AND ME AND THE POST.”
Mr. Ponch, Sir,—I have been much exercised by a paragraph I
lately saw in an evening paper, in its summary of the Postmaster-
General’s Annual Report on the work of his office. It seems, according
to the veracious journal in question, that there exists “ a tomtit, who
builds her nest in a private letter-box by a farm-gate. For two years
she resented the intrusion of the letters, and pushed them out as fast
as they were placed in the box. This year, however, she permitted
them to remain, and successfully hatched five young ones.” Now,
Sir, this may strike the Postmaster-General as merely a curious and
entertaining fact, but he does not seem sufficiently alive to the grave
inconvenience that would be caused were the example of this misguided
bird to be generally followed by the feathered tribe. _ Speaking for
myself, Sir, as one of the Public, I wish any letters I intrust to the
post to be duly delivered, but I emphatically object to their being
hatched in course of transmission by any bird whatever. If a letter
is posted “ young,” as I presume is the case with all properly posted
missives, how long will it be before it is able to leave the parental
pillar-box ? and, again, how can we be sure that it will retain
sufficient instinct to fly to its original direction ? And—a more
important question still—what manner of fowls will letters posted
and hatched in this highly irregular and officious manner turn out,
on breaking the envelope ? Will you kindly relieve my natural
anxiety on these important points, and allow me to subscribe
myself, A Perplexed Ornithologist.
[The last point is the only one to which Mr. Punch can offer a
reply with any confidence. Letters hatched as his correspondent
describes, would probably turn out either Tell-tale-tits. or Round
Robins. However, such queries open up a wide and interesting
field, which we commend to all students of un-Natural History.]
Verb. Sap.
A little more love between neighbour and neighbour.
In Trade, would work change to move cynics’ astonishment.
Were Capital not so dead set on Hard Labour,
And Labour less eager for Capital Punishment!