DOI issue:
October 1, 1892
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17694#0154
October 1, 1892.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 149
scenery that can only be properly enjoyed coming out on one of these
cars. If you go out with ordinary drivers, they take you along the
main roads, and you come away fancying you've seen the Island.
Now the advantage of coming along with me- {His eyes close once
more—the Excursionists implore him to attend to his team.) You
will thoroughly understand there is not the slightest cause to appre-
hend any danger. I've driven this car fifteen years without least
accident—up to present. So you can devote your whole attention to
the scenery, without needing to keep an eye upon the Driver. {He
points to the abyss.) That is the shortest way down—on this occasion,
however, I shall endeavour not to take it. {He whips up his horses,
and accomplishes the descent at a brisk pace.) There, didn't I tell
you there wouldn't he no accident ? Very well, then. P'rhaps
you'll believe me another time !
Mild Man {alighting at Hotel for luncheon). We've had a re-
markably lucky escape—I never felt more thankful in my life !
A Gloomy Exc. Don't you be in too great a hurry, Sir! We 'ye
got to get back—and he's bound to be worse after he's had his
lunch!
{The M. M.'s appetite for lobster is entirely destroyed by this sinis-
ter prediction ; but whether the Driver has been unjustly ma-
ligned, or whether he has sobered himself in the interval—he
reappears in a more sedentary, and less discursive mood, and the
journey home proves agreeably devoid of sensation.
SIMPLE STORIES.
" Be always kind to animals wherever you may be."
RUBY AND THE ROOK.
Ruby, although she was something of a tomboy, was a pretty and
clever girl.
But, like many pretty and clever little ladies, she was sometimes
very naughty. When she was good, she was as good as gold, but
when she was naughty, she was as naughty as pinchbeck.
The other day, when her dear Mamma was away for the morning,
it happened to be one of her pinchbeck times. Nothing would please
her—she was cross with her governess at breakfast, she quarrelled
with her bread-and-
A*vJlC/$ k ~ ^ milk; and even when her
favourite tame Rook,
Cawcus, came hopping
on her shoulder, she
refused to give it any-
thing to eat, but hit it
on the beak with her
spoon.
Miss Dumb ell was
very much grieved at
the way in which her
pupil lolled in her chair,
gave sullen answers,
and put flies in the
milk-jug, and pinched
the cat's tail. '1 Mind,
Ruby," said Miss Dum-
bell, "at eleven o'clock
I shall expect you in
the school-room with
that page of French
phrases quite perfect."
Ruby's eyes Hashed as
she went out of the room; she pouted, she swung her skirts, and
shook her shoulders, so that even Miss Dumbell, the most patient
and kindest of governesses, quite longed to slap her.
Ruby went to the school-room; she immediately flung the French
phrase-book from one end of the room to the other. She took some
story-books, and a little basket full of apples, bath-buns and "three-
corners," and ran down to a little plantation called the Wilderness,
at the bottom of the garden. She selected one of the tallest elms,
and as she could climb like a kitten, she was soon at the top of it,
quite hidden from view among the leaves.
"So much for old Dummy and her French phrases!" said the
naughty girl, as she settled herself in a comfortable position and
brought out her story-book. The stable-clock had struck twelve,
and she heard her name called in all directions, by Jorglxs, the
gardener, Brilltt, the buttons, and long-suffering Miss Dumbell.
They could not find her anywhere, and her Most Serene Naughtiness
sat screened by the leaves and shook with laughter.
Presently " Cawcus," her pet Rook, came fluttering amid the
leaves, and began to caw. Ruby offered him bits of Bath bun, and
even a whole three-corner, in order to keep him quiet.
But he remembered his treatment at breakfast, and refused all
these bribes with seorn. He declined to be petted, he continued to
hover over the tree, and circle around it, giving vent to the most
discordant shrieks. Presently she heard the clear measured tones of
her Mamma's voice saying, " Ruby, come down at once. I know
you are up in the elm." Cawcus, whom she had maltreated, had
betrayed her hiding-place.
Ruby dared not disobey. Quite subdued, and with garments
grievously greened, she descended. Mamma took her little daughter
indoors, and improved the occasion. Ruby eventually appeared,
with tears in her eyes, and subsequently apologised to her governess,
recited the page of French phrases without a mistake, and promised
to be a good girl. Though she sometimes forgot herself, and was
rude to Miss Dumbell afterwards, she never failed to treat Cawcus
the Rook with most profound consideration and reverence.
TO MELENDA.
{A Set of Verses accompanying a Photograph.)
I remember—do you ?■—the remarkable sky light
That flooded the heavens one evening in May,
How together we talked tete-d-tete in the twilight,
When the glow of the sunset had faded away.
Then you showed me your album. I looked at its pages.
With yourself as my guide and companion went through
Its contents—there were people of all sorts and ages,
But the portrait I fancied the most was—of you.
And you saw that 1 did. Which perhaps was the reason
Of your "No ! " when I asked May I have it ?" You swore
You were going to be shot at the close of the season,
And you couldn't spare that, as there weren't any more.
But at length I prevailed, or at least you relented,
After ever so many excuses—in fine
We agreed to a compact, you only consented
On condition I gave you a portrait of mine.
Well, I promised, of course. And I write you these verses
AVith your face—you '11 forgive me—quite close to my own.
There 's a charm in your look that completely disperses
All my cares in a way that is yours, dear, alone.
And although I am pleased, since I won in the end—a
More ridiculous bargain has never, I vow,
Been arranged than a picture of pretty Melenda,
In exchange for the photograph sent to you now.
We did not meet again through some horrible blunder,
Which a merciless Fate must be asked to explain,
And I sometimes sit smoking, and wearily wonder
If I ever am destined to see you again.
Yet wherever the future may possibly find you,
To this final request do not answer me Nay,
When I ask that this gift of myself may remind you
Of the friend who was with you that evening in May.
scenery that can only be properly enjoyed coming out on one of these
cars. If you go out with ordinary drivers, they take you along the
main roads, and you come away fancying you've seen the Island.
Now the advantage of coming along with me- {His eyes close once
more—the Excursionists implore him to attend to his team.) You
will thoroughly understand there is not the slightest cause to appre-
hend any danger. I've driven this car fifteen years without least
accident—up to present. So you can devote your whole attention to
the scenery, without needing to keep an eye upon the Driver. {He
points to the abyss.) That is the shortest way down—on this occasion,
however, I shall endeavour not to take it. {He whips up his horses,
and accomplishes the descent at a brisk pace.) There, didn't I tell
you there wouldn't he no accident ? Very well, then. P'rhaps
you'll believe me another time !
Mild Man {alighting at Hotel for luncheon). We've had a re-
markably lucky escape—I never felt more thankful in my life !
A Gloomy Exc. Don't you be in too great a hurry, Sir! We 'ye
got to get back—and he's bound to be worse after he's had his
lunch!
{The M. M.'s appetite for lobster is entirely destroyed by this sinis-
ter prediction ; but whether the Driver has been unjustly ma-
ligned, or whether he has sobered himself in the interval—he
reappears in a more sedentary, and less discursive mood, and the
journey home proves agreeably devoid of sensation.
SIMPLE STORIES.
" Be always kind to animals wherever you may be."
RUBY AND THE ROOK.
Ruby, although she was something of a tomboy, was a pretty and
clever girl.
But, like many pretty and clever little ladies, she was sometimes
very naughty. When she was good, she was as good as gold, but
when she was naughty, she was as naughty as pinchbeck.
The other day, when her dear Mamma was away for the morning,
it happened to be one of her pinchbeck times. Nothing would please
her—she was cross with her governess at breakfast, she quarrelled
with her bread-and-
A*vJlC/$ k ~ ^ milk; and even when her
favourite tame Rook,
Cawcus, came hopping
on her shoulder, she
refused to give it any-
thing to eat, but hit it
on the beak with her
spoon.
Miss Dumb ell was
very much grieved at
the way in which her
pupil lolled in her chair,
gave sullen answers,
and put flies in the
milk-jug, and pinched
the cat's tail. '1 Mind,
Ruby," said Miss Dum-
bell, "at eleven o'clock
I shall expect you in
the school-room with
that page of French
phrases quite perfect."
Ruby's eyes Hashed as
she went out of the room; she pouted, she swung her skirts, and
shook her shoulders, so that even Miss Dumbell, the most patient
and kindest of governesses, quite longed to slap her.
Ruby went to the school-room; she immediately flung the French
phrase-book from one end of the room to the other. She took some
story-books, and a little basket full of apples, bath-buns and "three-
corners," and ran down to a little plantation called the Wilderness,
at the bottom of the garden. She selected one of the tallest elms,
and as she could climb like a kitten, she was soon at the top of it,
quite hidden from view among the leaves.
"So much for old Dummy and her French phrases!" said the
naughty girl, as she settled herself in a comfortable position and
brought out her story-book. The stable-clock had struck twelve,
and she heard her name called in all directions, by Jorglxs, the
gardener, Brilltt, the buttons, and long-suffering Miss Dumbell.
They could not find her anywhere, and her Most Serene Naughtiness
sat screened by the leaves and shook with laughter.
Presently " Cawcus," her pet Rook, came fluttering amid the
leaves, and began to caw. Ruby offered him bits of Bath bun, and
even a whole three-corner, in order to keep him quiet.
But he remembered his treatment at breakfast, and refused all
these bribes with seorn. He declined to be petted, he continued to
hover over the tree, and circle around it, giving vent to the most
discordant shrieks. Presently she heard the clear measured tones of
her Mamma's voice saying, " Ruby, come down at once. I know
you are up in the elm." Cawcus, whom she had maltreated, had
betrayed her hiding-place.
Ruby dared not disobey. Quite subdued, and with garments
grievously greened, she descended. Mamma took her little daughter
indoors, and improved the occasion. Ruby eventually appeared,
with tears in her eyes, and subsequently apologised to her governess,
recited the page of French phrases without a mistake, and promised
to be a good girl. Though she sometimes forgot herself, and was
rude to Miss Dumbell afterwards, she never failed to treat Cawcus
the Rook with most profound consideration and reverence.
TO MELENDA.
{A Set of Verses accompanying a Photograph.)
I remember—do you ?■—the remarkable sky light
That flooded the heavens one evening in May,
How together we talked tete-d-tete in the twilight,
When the glow of the sunset had faded away.
Then you showed me your album. I looked at its pages.
With yourself as my guide and companion went through
Its contents—there were people of all sorts and ages,
But the portrait I fancied the most was—of you.
And you saw that 1 did. Which perhaps was the reason
Of your "No ! " when I asked May I have it ?" You swore
You were going to be shot at the close of the season,
And you couldn't spare that, as there weren't any more.
But at length I prevailed, or at least you relented,
After ever so many excuses—in fine
We agreed to a compact, you only consented
On condition I gave you a portrait of mine.
Well, I promised, of course. And I write you these verses
AVith your face—you '11 forgive me—quite close to my own.
There 's a charm in your look that completely disperses
All my cares in a way that is yours, dear, alone.
And although I am pleased, since I won in the end—a
More ridiculous bargain has never, I vow,
Been arranged than a picture of pretty Melenda,
In exchange for the photograph sent to you now.
We did not meet again through some horrible blunder,
Which a merciless Fate must be asked to explain,
And I sometimes sit smoking, and wearily wonder
If I ever am destined to see you again.
Yet wherever the future may possibly find you,
To this final request do not answer me Nay,
When I ask that this gift of myself may remind you
Of the friend who was with you that evening in May.