DOI Heft:
September 17, 1892
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17694#0130
September 17, 1892.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
125
PHANTASMA-GORE-IA!
Picturing the Various Modes of Melodramatic Murder. {By Our " Of-his "-Head Poet.)
No. I.—THE DAGGER MURDER.
They stand alone on the moonlit spot,— i Though, one is Standing,* and one is not,
Sing Ho—ho ! and Ha—ha ! there ' I For one's cold as the clay there !
One is the villain, and one is not,
But the heroine's father.
They stand alone on the patch of light
(Which comes from the left as well as
right)—
Oh, 'tis a glorious place and night
For a Murder Scene ! Rather !
They talk of deeds (of the parchment
kind)—
Sing Ha—ha ! and Ho-ho ! there!
The heavy father, to reason hlind,
Has them with him to show there !
The deeds relate to the old man's will;
The villain wants them to pay a hill!
The night is cold, and the night is still
Let the music be slow there !
They stand alone in the pale-green
light-
Sing Hey—hey! and he—he! there!
What is this flashing so keen and
bright ?
What is this that I see there ?
Oh ! deed of darkness in light descried !
Oh ! villain thrice damn'd that blade to
hide,
Right 'tween the arm on the farther side— I The villain covers the dead man's stare—
Certain death when it be there! I The corpse lies stiff in the limelight's
They 're still alone on the moonlit spot—
Sing He—he ! and Hey—hey! there !
glare!
The act is done!—and for all I care,
The dead body can stay there !
* Herbert.
TO MY LUGGAGE-LABELS.
Wonderful pictures of purple and gold,
Ultramarine, and vermilion, and bistre ;
Splendid insariptions of hostels untold,
Touching memorials breathing of " Mr. ; "
"Schweizerhof," "Bernerhof," "Hofs" by
the score; [Bellevue,
Signs of the Bear and the Swan, and the
Gasthaus, Albergo, Posada, galore— [you!
Beautiful wrecks, how I wish 1 could shelve
Yisions of Venice—her stones and her smells !
Whiffs of Cologne—aromatic mementos ;
Yisiting cards, so to speak, of hotels;
Como's, Granada's, Zermatt's and Sor-
rento's ;
Ah ! how ye cling to my boxes and bags,
Glued with a pigment that baffles removal;
Dogged adherents in dirt and in rags ;
Labels, receive my profane disapproval!
Much as I prized you, when roaming afield,
Loved you, when Life was metheglyn and
skittles,
Wished you the spell of remembrance to wield,
Calling the scenery back and the victuals;
Still, when it blows and it rains, and it irks,
Here in apartments adjoining a seaview,
After a meal that would terrify Turks,
Somehow I feel I can scarcely believe you.
Yes ! It's too much to remember the past—
Here, amid shrimps, and agilities nameless;
Glaciers gigantic, and Restaurants vast
Chime not with sands and a tablecloth
shameless;
Smoking a pestilent, sea-side cigar, [nurses,
Mewed in a lodging with children and
Epitaphs gorgeous of far " Dolce far'''
Curse you with paterfamiliar curses !
THE UGLY FACE : A MORAL DITTY.
Some years ago a babe was born—I need not name the place-
With a puffy, pasty, podgy, gutta-percha sort of face,
Which wrinkles sub-divided, into funny_ little bits,
While beady eyes peered cunningly behind two tiny slits.
In a fountain which played handy—it was near Trafalgar Square—
He was rushing off to drown himself, the victim of despair,
When he knocked against a person he'd not seen for quite an age,
Who had left his home some years before, and gone upon the Stage.
His nose was like a mushroom of the foreign button dH18 To this friend he soon narrated his distressing tale of
sort, [extra short;
woe,
His form was quaint and chubby, and his legs were JS-flif And declared his case was hopeless. But the actor
That his nurse spoke like Sapphiea, I have always W§Plst said, " Not so.
had a fear, W&Sf There's one thing, my fine fellow, that as yet you
When she said he was a " beauty," and a pretty little > haven't tried,
dear." jftm^diA Where your face will be your fortune, and a pound or
Yes, such remarks were really of the truth, a dreadful driMi ^w^" ** ^ ^es^e*
stretch, _ [wretch; mam I " With a mouth like yours to grin with, and your too
For, in point of fact, that baby was a hideous little ^wlir' If -SB delicious squint,
And in course of time he grew up—though a loving Wml TV;^R And the ears that Nature's given you with such a lack
mother's joy— mjjjfe of stint—
Into quite a champion specimen of the genius ugly fSm No matter what an author may provide you with to
boy." speak,
At school his teasing comrades gave him many comic llf ^mBm YoU 're a Pf,dy-made Comedian-with your fifty quid
names, M^^^^^m^ & W
And he became the victim of all sorts of naughty games; |jt\ And it was so. Though he started at a figure rather
Nor did the master like him, for he felt that such a face, wk \ ':^a^^M less
Mid a row of ruddy youngsters, was extremely out of II v<^BfefP Than the one that I have mentioned, still the truth 1
Place. ^ \ '/^^^M but express
In time, his father placed him in the City-as a clerk- £ . ^MIM® When ] sfy he now is earning .such a wage as
Where his personal appearance excited much remark; -r | \WWsilBM « wouldn t shock .... . . . ..
But he fell out with his principal, whose customers '■ - §M VlBI^ A respectable Archbishop or a fashionable
complained, nttfflk^' jock.
That his clerk was making faces, and said "Bosh!" ' And the face that all men sneered at, now is very
when he explained. ^ V SIm^S^ much admired,
On perceiving from the office that he never would be W JHSfllF And the public ne'er, apparently, of watehing it grows
missed E^BftB^^^^*^**^ iirc^Xf
As Mr. Gilbert puts it, he determined to enlist; Wm? And the Merc.nant who dismissed him, in the Stalls is
And so one summer afternoon he started forth in search tlgP^ wont to sit,
Of a Sergeant who perambulates close by St. Martin's "A ready-made Comedian with WhjJe the Sergeant and his sweetheart are applauding
Church. fifty quid a week." ±rom tne rit«
The Sergeant burst out laughing when he'd uttered his request,
And declared that, of a batch of jokes he knew, this was the best;
" 'Tis a pity you 're too short, my lad," he then went on to say,
For wid that face ye'd froighten ivery inimy away! "
4 I >
(I
The moral of my narrative is easy to espy.
But still I'd better mention it, lest some should pass it by :
" Though it's often very troublesome indeed to find it out—
There's a proper sphere for evert/one, beyond the slightest doubt.
125
PHANTASMA-GORE-IA!
Picturing the Various Modes of Melodramatic Murder. {By Our " Of-his "-Head Poet.)
No. I.—THE DAGGER MURDER.
They stand alone on the moonlit spot,— i Though, one is Standing,* and one is not,
Sing Ho—ho ! and Ha—ha ! there ' I For one's cold as the clay there !
One is the villain, and one is not,
But the heroine's father.
They stand alone on the patch of light
(Which comes from the left as well as
right)—
Oh, 'tis a glorious place and night
For a Murder Scene ! Rather !
They talk of deeds (of the parchment
kind)—
Sing Ha—ha ! and Ho-ho ! there!
The heavy father, to reason hlind,
Has them with him to show there !
The deeds relate to the old man's will;
The villain wants them to pay a hill!
The night is cold, and the night is still
Let the music be slow there !
They stand alone in the pale-green
light-
Sing Hey—hey! and he—he! there!
What is this flashing so keen and
bright ?
What is this that I see there ?
Oh ! deed of darkness in light descried !
Oh ! villain thrice damn'd that blade to
hide,
Right 'tween the arm on the farther side— I The villain covers the dead man's stare—
Certain death when it be there! I The corpse lies stiff in the limelight's
They 're still alone on the moonlit spot—
Sing He—he ! and Hey—hey! there !
glare!
The act is done!—and for all I care,
The dead body can stay there !
* Herbert.
TO MY LUGGAGE-LABELS.
Wonderful pictures of purple and gold,
Ultramarine, and vermilion, and bistre ;
Splendid insariptions of hostels untold,
Touching memorials breathing of " Mr. ; "
"Schweizerhof," "Bernerhof," "Hofs" by
the score; [Bellevue,
Signs of the Bear and the Swan, and the
Gasthaus, Albergo, Posada, galore— [you!
Beautiful wrecks, how I wish 1 could shelve
Yisions of Venice—her stones and her smells !
Whiffs of Cologne—aromatic mementos ;
Yisiting cards, so to speak, of hotels;
Como's, Granada's, Zermatt's and Sor-
rento's ;
Ah ! how ye cling to my boxes and bags,
Glued with a pigment that baffles removal;
Dogged adherents in dirt and in rags ;
Labels, receive my profane disapproval!
Much as I prized you, when roaming afield,
Loved you, when Life was metheglyn and
skittles,
Wished you the spell of remembrance to wield,
Calling the scenery back and the victuals;
Still, when it blows and it rains, and it irks,
Here in apartments adjoining a seaview,
After a meal that would terrify Turks,
Somehow I feel I can scarcely believe you.
Yes ! It's too much to remember the past—
Here, amid shrimps, and agilities nameless;
Glaciers gigantic, and Restaurants vast
Chime not with sands and a tablecloth
shameless;
Smoking a pestilent, sea-side cigar, [nurses,
Mewed in a lodging with children and
Epitaphs gorgeous of far " Dolce far'''
Curse you with paterfamiliar curses !
THE UGLY FACE : A MORAL DITTY.
Some years ago a babe was born—I need not name the place-
With a puffy, pasty, podgy, gutta-percha sort of face,
Which wrinkles sub-divided, into funny_ little bits,
While beady eyes peered cunningly behind two tiny slits.
In a fountain which played handy—it was near Trafalgar Square—
He was rushing off to drown himself, the victim of despair,
When he knocked against a person he'd not seen for quite an age,
Who had left his home some years before, and gone upon the Stage.
His nose was like a mushroom of the foreign button dH18 To this friend he soon narrated his distressing tale of
sort, [extra short;
woe,
His form was quaint and chubby, and his legs were JS-flif And declared his case was hopeless. But the actor
That his nurse spoke like Sapphiea, I have always W§Plst said, " Not so.
had a fear, W&Sf There's one thing, my fine fellow, that as yet you
When she said he was a " beauty," and a pretty little > haven't tried,
dear." jftm^diA Where your face will be your fortune, and a pound or
Yes, such remarks were really of the truth, a dreadful driMi ^w^" ** ^ ^es^e*
stretch, _ [wretch; mam I " With a mouth like yours to grin with, and your too
For, in point of fact, that baby was a hideous little ^wlir' If -SB delicious squint,
And in course of time he grew up—though a loving Wml TV;^R And the ears that Nature's given you with such a lack
mother's joy— mjjjfe of stint—
Into quite a champion specimen of the genius ugly fSm No matter what an author may provide you with to
boy." speak,
At school his teasing comrades gave him many comic llf ^mBm YoU 're a Pf,dy-made Comedian-with your fifty quid
names, M^^^^^m^ & W
And he became the victim of all sorts of naughty games; |jt\ And it was so. Though he started at a figure rather
Nor did the master like him, for he felt that such a face, wk \ ':^a^^M less
Mid a row of ruddy youngsters, was extremely out of II v<^BfefP Than the one that I have mentioned, still the truth 1
Place. ^ \ '/^^^M but express
In time, his father placed him in the City-as a clerk- £ . ^MIM® When ] sfy he now is earning .such a wage as
Where his personal appearance excited much remark; -r | \WWsilBM « wouldn t shock .... . . . ..
But he fell out with his principal, whose customers '■ - §M VlBI^ A respectable Archbishop or a fashionable
complained, nttfflk^' jock.
That his clerk was making faces, and said "Bosh!" ' And the face that all men sneered at, now is very
when he explained. ^ V SIm^S^ much admired,
On perceiving from the office that he never would be W JHSfllF And the public ne'er, apparently, of watehing it grows
missed E^BftB^^^^*^**^ iirc^Xf
As Mr. Gilbert puts it, he determined to enlist; Wm? And the Merc.nant who dismissed him, in the Stalls is
And so one summer afternoon he started forth in search tlgP^ wont to sit,
Of a Sergeant who perambulates close by St. Martin's "A ready-made Comedian with WhjJe the Sergeant and his sweetheart are applauding
Church. fifty quid a week." ±rom tne rit«
The Sergeant burst out laughing when he'd uttered his request,
And declared that, of a batch of jokes he knew, this was the best;
" 'Tis a pity you 're too short, my lad," he then went on to say,
For wid that face ye'd froighten ivery inimy away! "
4 I >
(I
The moral of my narrative is easy to espy.
But still I'd better mention it, lest some should pass it by :
" Though it's often very troublesome indeed to find it out—
There's a proper sphere for evert/one, beyond the slightest doubt.