Punch: Punch (101.1891)

July 11, 1891.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI,

17

LETTERS TO ABSTRACTIONS,

No. I.—TO SOCIAL AMBITION.

Dear Sis, or Madam,

I trust you •will observe and appreciate the discreet ambi-
guity of style ■with "which I have chosen to address you. I may
assure you at once that I have done this not without considerable
thought. For, though I have often watched you in the exercise of
your energies, I have never yet been able to satisfy myself as to
whether I ought to class you amongst our rougher sex, or include
you in the ranks of those "who wear high heels, and very low dresses.
Sometimes you fix your place of business in a breast adequately
covered by a stiff and shining shirt-front and a well-cut waistcoat.

Some-
times you
i nh a b it
the ex-
pan sive
bosom of
a matron.

-----~~~ Nor do

you con-
fine your-
self to one class
alone out of the
many that go to the
composition of our
social life. You have
impelled grocers to
ludicrous pitches of
absurdity; you have
driven the wife of a
working - man to
distraction because
her neighbour's
front room possesses
a more expensive
carpet, of a sprucer
pattern than her
own. Clerks have
suffered acutely
from your stings,
and actresses have
spent many a sleep-
less night under
your malign influ-
ence. You have
tortured Dukes on
the peaks of gracious
splendour where
they sit enthroned as

just the homely, comfortable, housewifely person who would always
make Dabchick happy, and be a good and careful mother to his
children. Often in the old days when I came down to Balham and
took pot-luck with Dabchick, while Mrs. Dabchick beamed serenity
and middle-class satisfaction upon me fl'om the other end of the table,
and the juvenile Johnny Dabchick recited in a piping treble one of
Mr. George R. Sims's most moving pieces for our entertainment,
often, I say, have I envied the simple happiness of that family, and
gone back to my bachelor chambers with an increased sense of dis-
satisfaction. Why, I thought to myself, had fate denied to me the
peaceful domesticity of the Dabchicks ? I was as good a man as
Dabchick, probably, if the truth were known, a better than he. Yet
there he was with a good wife, an agreeable family, and a comfortable
income to compensate him for his extravagance with the letter h,
while I had to toil and moil in solitary gloom.

Now, however, all is changed. In an evil moment for himself,
Dabchick speculated largely and successfully in the Gold Trust of
Guatemala. In a very short time his income was multiplied by ten.
The usual results followed. The happy home in Balham was given
up. "People about here, " said Dabchick, " are such poor snobs "—
and a more ornate mansion in South Kensington was taken in its
stead. The old friends and the old habits were dropped. Jonx.w
Dabchick was sent to Eton with an immoderate allowance of pocket-
money, and was promptly christened " Pekoe " by his schoolfellows.
Mrs. Dabchick rides m a huge landau with blue viieels, and leaves
cards on the fringes of the aristocracy. Dabchick himself aspires to
Parliament, and never keeps the same circle of friends for more than
about six months. He knows one shady Viscount to whom rumour
asserts that he has lent immense sums of Guatemalan money, and
the approach of a Marquis makes him palpitate with emotion. But he
is a profoundly miserable man. Of that I am assured. It amuses
me when I meet him in pompous society to address him lightly as
*' Dab," and remind him of the dear old Balham days, and the huge
amount of bird's-eye we used to smoke together. For his motto now
is, " Delenda est JBalhamia"—I speak of course figuratively—and
half-crown havannahs have usurped the place of the honest briar. I
know the poor wretch is making up his mind to cut me, but I must
bear it as best I may.

Now, my dear Sir or Madam, for this melancholy deterioration in
the Dabchicks you are entirely responsible. I am saddened as I
contemplate it, and I appeal to you. Scarify Dukes and Duchesses,
make vain and useless social prigs as miserable as you like, but
leave the Dabchicks of this world alone. They are simple folk, and
really I cannot think that the game is wTorth the candle.

Believe me to be, your obedient servant,

DlOGEXES IlOBIXSOX.

BROADLY SPEAKING.

Advised by friend to try Norfolk Broads for holiday. Oulton
Broad, Wroxham Broad, Fritton Decoy (curious name!), Yare,
far above common mortals as they ought to be above the common j Waveney, arid no end of other rivers. Yachting, shooting, fishing,

feeling of envy ; and you have caused even Queens to writhe because
there happened to be a few stray Empresses in the world.

On the whole, then, I think I do wisely in leaving the question of
your sex a doubtful one. You would wish it so left yourself, other-
wise so powerful a personalitv as yours would, I am certain, have
revealed itself with greater clearness to an honest investigator, such
as I humbly trust I have proved myself. But, be that as it may,
I can assert with perfect confidence that you are no respecter
of persons, though it must, in fairness, be added, that one of your
chief functions seems to be to implant an exaggerated respect and
admiration of others in the minds of your victims. In saying this I
praise your impartiality, while I hint a dislike of your ordinary
methods. Not that I have any hope of causing you to desist. For
to desist would be to cease to exist, and I cannot fairly expect you
to commit suicide, however much I may desire it. Moreover, your
subjects—for, to be candid, you are a despot—seem to like you.
You minister so craftily to their self-esteem, you flatter their A-anity
with an adroitness so remarkable, that, after a few feeble struggles,
the5r resign themselves, body and soul, to your thrall. Even then
you proceed wTarily. Your first labour is to collect, with patient
care, all the little elements of dissatisfaction that are latent in every
nature, and to blend them with the petty disappointments to which
even the best of us are liable. The material thus obtained you
temper with intentions that seem to be good, and eventually you
forge out of it a weapon of marvellous point and sharpness, with
which you mercilessly goad your victims along the path that leads
to ridicule and disaster.

Let me take an instance which I am sure you will remember.
When I first met little Dabchick, I thought I had never seen a
happier mortal. He was clever, good-natured, and sprightly. He
sold tea somewhere in Mincing Lane, and on the proceeds of his sales
he managed to support a wife and two pleasant children in reasonable
comfort at Balham. Mrs. Dabchick could not be accused by her
best friends of over-refinement, but everybody agreed that she was

pretty scenery, divine air, he says. Have come down to Yarmouth
for a start.

Up the Bure in a yacht, and into river Thurne. All "right so far.
Fish scarce. My pilot says, " wait till I get to Hickling Broad.
Full of bream and roach." I agree to wait.

In Hickling Broad. Surprised to find notice-boards up all round
saying, " sailing " is prohibited in the Broad, also fishing and shoot-
ing ! "What's the meaning of this ? " 1 ask pilot. He says, " it's
all the doings of the Lord of the Manor." Wants to keep the Broad
free from tourists. He certainly does it "as to the Manor born."
Quite a village autocrat.".Shall I be the '' Village Hampden ?" I will.

Fishing. Several men on bank shouting at me. One comes off in a
boat and serves me with a summons. This might almost be called a
Broad hint to go away ! But I don't go. I stop and fish. Another
man comes off in boat and threatens me with action '' on behalf of
riparian owners." Tell him '' ripe-pear-ian season isn't till Autumn,
and I shall wait here till then." He doesn't see the joke—perhaps
too broad for him.

Other yachtsmen, we hear, have been stopped, and threatened.
Yachtsmen up in arms generally. Savage artists wander along
banks, denouncing Lord of Manor of Hickling. Say they have
"right of way" along banks (sounds as if they were Kailway
Guards). Hear that Lord of Manor is going to put a gunboat on
Broad, also torpedoes. Hear, also, that Wroxham Broad—one of
the biggest—is to be closed in same way.

Disgusted at such inhospitality. Back to Yarmouth. Give up
yacht, and decide to go to Switzerland instead. Find Yarmouth
yacht-owners furious with Hickling's Lord of Bad Manners. Say
" closing the Broads will ruin them." Very likely, but it '11 help the
foreign hotel-keeper. Glad to see they've started a "Norfolk Broads
Protection Societv," subscriptions to be sent to Lloyd's Bank. "I know
a Bank "—and all lovers of natural scenery and popular rights ought
to know it too, and help in giving the "Hickling obstructionist a
" heckling," when he takes the matter (also the Manor) into Court.