DOI Heft:
November 19, 1892
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17694#0245
240
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[November 19, 1892.
TO "THE LAZY MINSTREL"
On the publication of his Eighth Edition, with therein Nineteen Foems originally written for Mr. Punch.
fS. jfi^ \ f/^r.--''-------- "Who would not be a Minstrel Lazy ?
Ob f(^iM^u\-% / A trifle crazy,
||t%|f, r. The best of them! Ah!
wmSHSsM^SS^I& V'*tV'<v ' Here's Ashbt Stebby, in punt or
\ % \ f» '7- ' t-^ wherry,
V- 'i <t y%S f' ';'J - - <SPssA He's ever merry! sing "hey down
$hY(t,*m~ & >' .'^2SHI derry,"
Or anything very
Like Tra! la! la ! la !
On sunny days he trolls his lays
With gay guitar and Tra ! la! la I la !
From groves and glades come meadow-
sweet maids,
None of your saucy minxes or jades;
The poet is there
Without a care,
With no regret, with mild cigarette,
With gay guitar, and whiskey from
Leith,
Will he be crowned with the Laureate
The Lazy Laureate of the Thames. wreath ?
{The Nymph Pantalettina is heard singing.)
Come where my Ashbt lies dreaming,
Dreaming for hours after lunch.
Softly ! for he is scheming
Poems for Mister Punch !
Graceful is his position—
Hark! how he sweeps the strings,
While of his Eighth Edition
The Warbler Stebrt sings :—
{The Bard chirpeth his roundelay.)
On ' Spring's Delights ' in ' Hambledon
Lock'
' My Country Cousin' may hap—
With her I '11 go
' In Rotten Row,'
Stop on an 'oss
4 At Charing-Cross,'
For a 1 Tarn 0' Shanter Cap.'
No gout? Oh no ! But I'm 'Taken in
And suffering from dejection, [Tow,'
1 Spring Cleaning' I '11 use for a pair of
old shoes
(Queer rhyme upon reflection),
1 Sound without Sense,' I've no pretence,'
To write Shakspearian Sonnets.
Of her and him,
As suits my whim,
I sing, and I hymn her bonnets ! "
{Chorus of Pantalettina and River
Nymphs.)
So, hail to the Bard so merry,
To Lazy Laureate Sterey !
He '11 sing of a Lock on the Thames !
oh rare!
Or hymn a Lock of his Lady's hair.
CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOR
YOUNG SHOOTERS.
The' subject of Lunch, my dear young
friends, has now been exhausted. We have
done, for the time, with poetry, and descend
again to the ordinary prose of every-day
shooting. Yet stay—before we proceed further,
there is one matter apart from the mere de-
tails of sport, which may be profitably con-
sidered in this treatise. It is the divine, the
delightful subject of
SMOKING.
First, I ask, do you know—(1), the man who
never smokes from the night of the 11th of
August up to the night of the 1st of Feb-
ruary in the following year, for fear of in-
juring his sight and his shooting nerve?
(2), the host who forbids all smoking amongst
the guests assembled at his house for a
shooting-party ?
You, naturally enough, reply that you have
not the honour of being acquainted with these
severe, but enthusiastic gentlemen. Nobody
does know them. They don't exist. But it
is very useful to affect a sort of second-hand
knowledge of these Gorgons.of the^weed.fas
thus:—
A Party of Guns is walking to the first beat
of the day. Time, say about 10 20 a.m.
Young Sportsman {who has a pipe in his
mouth, to Second Sportsman, similarly
adorned). I always think the after-breakfast
smoke is about the best of the day. Some-
how, tobacco tastes sweeter then than at any
other time of the day.
Second Sp. {puffing vigorously). Yes, it's
first class; but 1 hold with smoke at most
times of the day, after breakfast, after lunch,
after dinner, and in between.
Young Sp. Well, I don't know. If I try
to smoke when I'm actually shooting, I gene-
rally find I've got my pipe in the gun side of
my mouth. 1 heard of a man the other day
who knocked out three of his best teeth
through bringing up his gun sharp, and for-
getting he'd got a pipe in his mouth. Poor
beggar! he was very plucky about it, I
believe ; but it made no end of a difference to
his pronunciation till he got a new lot shoved
in. Just like that old Johnnie in the play—
Overland something or other—who lost his
false set of teeth on a desert island, and
couldn't make any of the other Johnnies
understand him.
Second Sp. I've never had any difficulty
with my smoking. I always make a habit of
carrying my smokes in the left side of my
mouth.
Young Sp. Oh, but you 're pretty certain
to get the smoke or the ashes or something,
blown slap into your eyes just as you're going-
to loose olf. No. {With decision.) I'm off
my smoke when the popping begins.
Second Sp. Don't be too hard on yourself,
my boy. They tell me there are precious few
birds in the old planting this year, so you can
treat yourself to a cigarette when you get
there. It never pays to trample on one's
longing for tobacco too much.
Young Sp. No, by Jove. Old Reggie
Mobbis told me of a fellow he met somewhere
this year, who goes regularly into training
for shooting. Never touches baccy from
August to February, and limits his drink to
three pints a day, and no whiskeys and sodas.
And what's more, he won't let any of his
guests smoke when he's got a shoot on,
He's got "No Smoking" posted up in big
letters in every room in the house. Reggie
said it was awful. He had to lock his bed-
room door, shove the chest - of - drawers
against it, and smoke with his head stuck
right up the chimney. He got a peck of
soot, one night, right on the top of his nut.
Now I call that simple rot.
Second Sp. Ah, I've heard of that man.
Never met him though, I'm thankful to say.
Let me see what's the beggar's name ? Jack-
son or Babbext, or Pollabd, or something
like that. He 's got a big place somewhere in
Suffolk, or Yorkshire, or somewhere about
there.
Young Sp. Yes, that's the chap, I fancy.
Now that kind of thing starts you very
nicely for the day. It isn't necessary that
either of the sportsmen whose dialogue has
been reported should believe implicitly in the
absolute truth of what he is saying. Observe,
neither of them says that he himself met this
man. He merely gets conversation out of him
on the strength of what someone else has told
him. That, you see, is the real trick of the
thing. Don't bind yourself to such a story as
being part of your own personal experience.
Work it in on another man's back. Of course
there are exceptions even to this rule. But
this question I shall be able to treat at greater
length when I come to deal with the important
subject of " Shooting Anecdotes."
Very often you can work up quite a nice
little conversation on cigarettes. Every man
believes, as is well-known, that he possesses
the only decent cigarettes in the country. He
either—(1), imports them himself from Cairo,
or (2), he gets his tobacco straight from a firm
of growers somewhere in Syria and makes it
into cigarettes himself; or (3), he thinks
Egyptian cigarettes are an abomination, and
only smokes Russians or Americans; or (4),
he knows a man, Backastopoulo by name,
somewhere in the Ratcliffe Highway, who has
the very best cigarettes you ever tasted. You
wouldn't give two-pence a hundred for any
others after smoking these, he tells you. And,
lastly, there is the man who loathes cigarettes,
despises those who smoke them, and never,
smokes anything himself except a special kind
of cigar ornamented with a sort of red and
gold garter.
Out of this conflict of preferences the
young shooter can make capital. By flat-
tering everybody in turn, he can practically
get his smoking gratis, for everyone will be
sure to offer him at least one cigarette, in
order to prove the superiority of his own par-
ticular kind. And if the young shooter,
after smoking it, expresses a proper amount
of ecstasy, he is not at all unlikely to have
a second offered to him. Most men are gene-
rous with cigarettes. Many a man I know
would far rather give a beggar a cigarette
than a shilling, though the cigarette may have
cost, originally, a penny-halfpenny ? or more
—a strange and paradoxical state of affairs.
Here is a final piece of advice. Admire all
cigarette-cases, and say of each that it's the
Very best and prettiest you ever saw. You
can have no notion how much innocent plea-
sure you will give.
f£§p NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures ot any description, wui
in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper, To this rule
there will be no exception,
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[November 19, 1892.
TO "THE LAZY MINSTREL"
On the publication of his Eighth Edition, with therein Nineteen Foems originally written for Mr. Punch.
fS. jfi^ \ f/^r.--''-------- "Who would not be a Minstrel Lazy ?
Ob f(^iM^u\-% / A trifle crazy,
||t%|f, r. The best of them! Ah!
wmSHSsM^SS^I& V'*tV'<v ' Here's Ashbt Stebby, in punt or
\ % \ f» '7- ' t-^ wherry,
V- 'i <t y%S f' ';'J - - <SPssA He's ever merry! sing "hey down
$hY(t,*m~ & >' .'^2SHI derry,"
Or anything very
Like Tra! la! la ! la !
On sunny days he trolls his lays
With gay guitar and Tra ! la! la I la !
From groves and glades come meadow-
sweet maids,
None of your saucy minxes or jades;
The poet is there
Without a care,
With no regret, with mild cigarette,
With gay guitar, and whiskey from
Leith,
Will he be crowned with the Laureate
The Lazy Laureate of the Thames. wreath ?
{The Nymph Pantalettina is heard singing.)
Come where my Ashbt lies dreaming,
Dreaming for hours after lunch.
Softly ! for he is scheming
Poems for Mister Punch !
Graceful is his position—
Hark! how he sweeps the strings,
While of his Eighth Edition
The Warbler Stebrt sings :—
{The Bard chirpeth his roundelay.)
On ' Spring's Delights ' in ' Hambledon
Lock'
' My Country Cousin' may hap—
With her I '11 go
' In Rotten Row,'
Stop on an 'oss
4 At Charing-Cross,'
For a 1 Tarn 0' Shanter Cap.'
No gout? Oh no ! But I'm 'Taken in
And suffering from dejection, [Tow,'
1 Spring Cleaning' I '11 use for a pair of
old shoes
(Queer rhyme upon reflection),
1 Sound without Sense,' I've no pretence,'
To write Shakspearian Sonnets.
Of her and him,
As suits my whim,
I sing, and I hymn her bonnets ! "
{Chorus of Pantalettina and River
Nymphs.)
So, hail to the Bard so merry,
To Lazy Laureate Sterey !
He '11 sing of a Lock on the Thames !
oh rare!
Or hymn a Lock of his Lady's hair.
CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOR
YOUNG SHOOTERS.
The' subject of Lunch, my dear young
friends, has now been exhausted. We have
done, for the time, with poetry, and descend
again to the ordinary prose of every-day
shooting. Yet stay—before we proceed further,
there is one matter apart from the mere de-
tails of sport, which may be profitably con-
sidered in this treatise. It is the divine, the
delightful subject of
SMOKING.
First, I ask, do you know—(1), the man who
never smokes from the night of the 11th of
August up to the night of the 1st of Feb-
ruary in the following year, for fear of in-
juring his sight and his shooting nerve?
(2), the host who forbids all smoking amongst
the guests assembled at his house for a
shooting-party ?
You, naturally enough, reply that you have
not the honour of being acquainted with these
severe, but enthusiastic gentlemen. Nobody
does know them. They don't exist. But it
is very useful to affect a sort of second-hand
knowledge of these Gorgons.of the^weed.fas
thus:—
A Party of Guns is walking to the first beat
of the day. Time, say about 10 20 a.m.
Young Sportsman {who has a pipe in his
mouth, to Second Sportsman, similarly
adorned). I always think the after-breakfast
smoke is about the best of the day. Some-
how, tobacco tastes sweeter then than at any
other time of the day.
Second Sp. {puffing vigorously). Yes, it's
first class; but 1 hold with smoke at most
times of the day, after breakfast, after lunch,
after dinner, and in between.
Young Sp. Well, I don't know. If I try
to smoke when I'm actually shooting, I gene-
rally find I've got my pipe in the gun side of
my mouth. 1 heard of a man the other day
who knocked out three of his best teeth
through bringing up his gun sharp, and for-
getting he'd got a pipe in his mouth. Poor
beggar! he was very plucky about it, I
believe ; but it made no end of a difference to
his pronunciation till he got a new lot shoved
in. Just like that old Johnnie in the play—
Overland something or other—who lost his
false set of teeth on a desert island, and
couldn't make any of the other Johnnies
understand him.
Second Sp. I've never had any difficulty
with my smoking. I always make a habit of
carrying my smokes in the left side of my
mouth.
Young Sp. Oh, but you 're pretty certain
to get the smoke or the ashes or something,
blown slap into your eyes just as you're going-
to loose olf. No. {With decision.) I'm off
my smoke when the popping begins.
Second Sp. Don't be too hard on yourself,
my boy. They tell me there are precious few
birds in the old planting this year, so you can
treat yourself to a cigarette when you get
there. It never pays to trample on one's
longing for tobacco too much.
Young Sp. No, by Jove. Old Reggie
Mobbis told me of a fellow he met somewhere
this year, who goes regularly into training
for shooting. Never touches baccy from
August to February, and limits his drink to
three pints a day, and no whiskeys and sodas.
And what's more, he won't let any of his
guests smoke when he's got a shoot on,
He's got "No Smoking" posted up in big
letters in every room in the house. Reggie
said it was awful. He had to lock his bed-
room door, shove the chest - of - drawers
against it, and smoke with his head stuck
right up the chimney. He got a peck of
soot, one night, right on the top of his nut.
Now I call that simple rot.
Second Sp. Ah, I've heard of that man.
Never met him though, I'm thankful to say.
Let me see what's the beggar's name ? Jack-
son or Babbext, or Pollabd, or something
like that. He 's got a big place somewhere in
Suffolk, or Yorkshire, or somewhere about
there.
Young Sp. Yes, that's the chap, I fancy.
Now that kind of thing starts you very
nicely for the day. It isn't necessary that
either of the sportsmen whose dialogue has
been reported should believe implicitly in the
absolute truth of what he is saying. Observe,
neither of them says that he himself met this
man. He merely gets conversation out of him
on the strength of what someone else has told
him. That, you see, is the real trick of the
thing. Don't bind yourself to such a story as
being part of your own personal experience.
Work it in on another man's back. Of course
there are exceptions even to this rule. But
this question I shall be able to treat at greater
length when I come to deal with the important
subject of " Shooting Anecdotes."
Very often you can work up quite a nice
little conversation on cigarettes. Every man
believes, as is well-known, that he possesses
the only decent cigarettes in the country. He
either—(1), imports them himself from Cairo,
or (2), he gets his tobacco straight from a firm
of growers somewhere in Syria and makes it
into cigarettes himself; or (3), he thinks
Egyptian cigarettes are an abomination, and
only smokes Russians or Americans; or (4),
he knows a man, Backastopoulo by name,
somewhere in the Ratcliffe Highway, who has
the very best cigarettes you ever tasted. You
wouldn't give two-pence a hundred for any
others after smoking these, he tells you. And,
lastly, there is the man who loathes cigarettes,
despises those who smoke them, and never,
smokes anything himself except a special kind
of cigar ornamented with a sort of red and
gold garter.
Out of this conflict of preferences the
young shooter can make capital. By flat-
tering everybody in turn, he can practically
get his smoking gratis, for everyone will be
sure to offer him at least one cigarette, in
order to prove the superiority of his own par-
ticular kind. And if the young shooter,
after smoking it, expresses a proper amount
of ecstasy, he is not at all unlikely to have
a second offered to him. Most men are gene-
rous with cigarettes. Many a man I know
would far rather give a beggar a cigarette
than a shilling, though the cigarette may have
cost, originally, a penny-halfpenny ? or more
—a strange and paradoxical state of affairs.
Here is a final piece of advice. Admire all
cigarette-cases, and say of each that it's the
Very best and prettiest you ever saw. You
can have no notion how much innocent plea-
sure you will give.
f£§p NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures ot any description, wui
in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper, To this rule
there will be no exception,