Punch: Punch (101.1891)

132

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [September 12, 1891.

STOR1CULES.

III.—The Dear Old Ladt.

There were three of them in the railway-carriage. One was a
Stockbroker; one was a Curate; one was an Old Lady. They had
been strangers to each other when they started; but it was near the
end of the journey, and they were chatting pleasantly together now.

One could see that the little Old Lady was from the country ; she
was exquisitely neat and simple in appearance; there was an air of

primness about her
which one rarely sees
in a city product.
She carried a big
bunch of hedgerow
flowers. She seemed
to be a little nervous
about travelling, and
still more nervous
about encountering
the noise and con-
fusion of the great
city. She had asked
the Stockbroker and
Curate a good many
questions about the
sights that she ought
to see, and how much
she ought to pay the
cabman, and which
were the best shops.
" Not but what Ton
will look after me,"
she explained;
" Tom 's a very good
son to me, and he '11
be waiting on the
platform for me. And
such a boy as he
was too when he was
younger! Fruit!
There wasn't any-
thing that boy
wouldn't do to get it
—any kind of mis-
chief." She grew
garrulous on the sub-
jectof Tom's infancy.
The two men answered her questions, and listened amusedly to her
chatter. Occasionally they interchanged smiles. Presently the train
got near to the station just before the terminus. The Curate warned
the Old Lady that the tickets would be collected there.

"Thank you, Sir," she said, "for telling me. Then I must be
getting my ticket ready. I've got it quite safely. Such a lot of
money it did seem to pay for a ride to London ! But Tom would have
me come. He never forgets his old Mother." She undid her reticule
and took out her purse ; she undid the purse and took out a folded
paper; she unfolded the paper and took out the ticket. Then she
put the paper back in the purse, and the purse back in the reticule.
She held the ticket gingerly between two fingers of her cotton-gloved
hand, as if it were a delicate fruit, and she were afraid of rubbing
the bloom off it.

"What a refreshing contrast to our city ways!" thought the
Stockbroker.

" Sow characteristic ! " thought the Curate.

" My word ! there 's one of my hair-pins coming out," said the Old
Lady, suddenly. The hand which held the ticket flew to the back of
her head, to put the hair-pin right.

And then, all at once, the look of animation died out of the Old
Lady's face. She seemed utterly aghast and horror-stricken. She
gasped out an unintelligible interjection.

1 What's the matter, Ma'am ? " asked the Stockbroker.
_ " My ticket's gone! I was putting that hair-pin right, and the
ticket slipped out of my fingers, and dropped down the back of my
neck between my clothes and—and myself. What shall I do when
that gentleman comes for the tickets ? "

The Curate blushed violently. In his boyhood's days he had put
halfpennies down the back of his neck and jumped up and down
until they percolated out in the region of his boots. He had only
just checked himself in the act of advising the Old Lady to get up
and jump.

post. You had better write down your name and address to give
him. I '11 guarantee to the collector that it will be all right."

The Old Lady overwhelmed him with thanks. Slowly and
laboriously she wrote the name and address on the piece of paper in
which the ticket was folded. All happened just as the Stockbroker
had foretold. The Ticket-collector w7as very well satisfied and very
much amused.

Tom was waiting for her at the terminus, and took charge of her
at once.

" Ah! " said the Stockbroker to the Curate, when she had gone,
" that's my notion of a dear Old Lady."

"Everything about her was so characteristic," answered the
Curate, admiringly.

Neither the Curate nor the Stockbroker had the advantage of
hearing what the dear Old Lady said to Tom that afternoon.

" It came off just beautifully, my boy. Not that I blame them,
mind you,—how were they to know that it was a ticket which I
didn't give up last year, and that I hadn't even taken a ticket at all
to-day ? No, I don't blame them. As for the address, I put the
same address that was on the label of the Curate's bag, only 1 altered
The Rev. Charles Marllnghurst to Mrs. Marlixghurst. And
the Stockbroker guaranteed that I should send either the ticket or
the money. So he '11 have to pay up ! Oh, my wTord ! My gracious
word, what a treat! "

The dear Old Lady chuckled contentedly.

Tom also chuckled.

The Stockbroker subsequently relinquished to a great extent his
habit of remarking upon his own marvellous intuition, enabling him
to read character at sight; the Curate preached a capital sermon on
the deceptiveness of man, and when he said man he meant woman.

TO A TOO-ENGAGING MAIDEN.

I think 3'ou should know I've been put out of humour

By something I hear very nearly each day.
In a small town like ours, as you know, every rumour

Gets about in a truly remarkable way.
It is too much to hope for that women won't prattle,

But I candidly tell you, I do feel enraged
When I find that a part of their stock tittle-tattle

Is that we—how I laugh at the thought!—are engaged.

Though you don't even claim to be reckoned
as pretty,

You are not, I admit it, aggressively plain.
You dress pretty well, and your talk, if not
witty, [positive pain.

As a ride doesn't give me much
You will one day be rich, for your
prospects are "healthy,"
Yet as Beauty and Riches do not
make up Life,
Why, were you as lovely, as Venus,
as wealthy [my wife.

As Creesus I wouldn't have tjou for

Are you free altogether from blame in the matter—

I'm resolved to be frank, so it's useless to frown-
Have you not had a share in the mischievous chatter

Which makes our " engagement" the talk of the town ?
When some eager, impertinent person hereafter

Shall inquire of its truth, and shall ask, " Is it so ? "
Instead of implying assent by your laughter,

Would you kindly oblige me'by answering, " No "

I recognise freely your marvellous kindness

In allowing your name to be linked with my own.
Maybe it is only incurable blindness

To your charms that compels me to let them alone.
But if with reports I am still to be harried,

I've thoroughlv made up my mind what to do ;
Just to settle it all, I shall shortly be married,

I shall shortly be married, but not—not to you.

"Who Breaks Pats."—"In some large restaurants," says the
Daily Chronicle, "the girls engaged have to pay for the breakages
which occur in the course of carrying on a business in which they
are not partners." If the maxim at the head of this paragraph
were strictly and impartially enforced, such exacting employers
would have to pay pretty smartly for_ certain " breakages " which
occur in the carrying on of a business in which they consider they
The Stockbroker was more practical, and soon consoled her. He | have no concern—breakages, to wit, of the girls' health, spirits, and,

often, hearts!

was a season-ticket-holder, and knew the collector. He would ex
plain it to the man. " You '11 be able to get the ticket again, you

see, when you-I mean, later on." The British love of euphemism

had asserted itself. "And then you can send it to the collector by

Modern Version of ".Wise Men of the East."—The Congress
of Orientalists.

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