DOI Heft:
Punch’s Almanack for 1862
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17015#0003
PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOE 1862.
HINTS TO MAKE HOME HAPPY.
BY A MAN WHO MARRIED LATE.
Select the days when you suspect that
there’s a make-shift sort of a dinner, for
bringing, unexpectedly, a few City men
to dine with you; and throw out such
artful hints as may lead them to infer
that your wife is a bad caterer, do what
you will to school her.
On any night when you have promised
to take her to the theatre, either don’t go
home till morning, or else come rushing
in for dinner two hours before the time,
and, when you find she is not dressed,
declare she always keeps you waiting, and
throughout the whole two hours go on
fidgeting and fuming and continually ask-
ing her how long she means to be, and
predicting that, as usual, she’ll be sure
to make you miss the only scene you
care to see.
MR. SOWERJBY’S SEASONS.
SPRING.
Briars now, and brambles shoot;
Nettles grow in hedgerows thick,
And, of birds’ nests in pursuit,
Hands of youngsters sting and prick.
Thoms increase and thistles thrive ;
Verdant hemlock crests the bank ;
Slugs and snails are all alive,
Midst the weeds that flourish rank.
Note on March, Natural and His-
torical.—Rooks in ploughed fields meet
in large flocks and hold Diet of Worms,
discussing their grub.
The Surest Way to Rise in the
World is to go up in a balloon.
You may keep an old friend—a pro-
mise made—a woman’s love—a balance
at your banker’s, but never—an um-
brella.
The advocates of indirect taxation
would, if they had their way, make the
Income-Tax the “ Whole Duty of Man.”
Thing not Generally Considered.—
The youngest and prettiest girl is no
chicken—if she is a goose.
When you take Counsel with yourself,
always pay his travelling expenses.
THE PORTRAIT.—FINISHING TOUCH TO THE DRESS.
Painter. “I beg your Pardon, but I’m afraid you are Sitting on my Palette!”
BALLAD FROM BEDLAM.
The moon is up ! the moon is up 1
The larks begin to fly,
And like a breezy buttercup
Dark Phoebus skims the sky :
The elephant with cheerful voice
Sings blithely on the spray,
The bats and beetles all rejoice,—
Then let me too be gay !
Last night I was a porcupine,
And wore a peacock’s tail,
To-morrow, if the moon but shine,
Perchance I ’ll be a whale:
Then let me, like the cauliflower,
Be merry while I may,
And, ere there comes a sunny hour
To cloud my heart, be gay !
WISH FOR MARCH.
Landlord. I hope I see you well, Mr.
Dawdle.
Tenant. You see nothing of the kind,
Mr. Screw.
Landlord. Sorry to hear it, Sir. Drawn
out that little cheque for me, Sir? This
is the 25th, you know. Sorry to trouble
you, Sir.
Tenant. I wish there was no Lady Day.
(Scowling.)
SONG BY MR. SOWERBY.
ON A CHRISTENING.
Kitchee, kitohee, little duck !
Let us hope he’s bom to luck.
His beginning here we see ;
Wonder what his end will be.
Every one has crowed and smiled,
Like this interesting child,
Once, for all were once as young—
Every person ever hung.
Parliamentary. — An Irish Member
takes the sense of the House about him-
self, and is voted a bore.
Obvious.—Why is next year's Exhibi-
tion sure to be popular ?—Because it has
been well taken up by folks (Fowkes)
from the first.
When you speak what you admit to
be plain truth, expect others to think it
downright ugly.
A HOT CHESTNUT IS A VERY GOOD THING AFTER DINNER, BUT IT IS NOT SO PLEASANT JUST AS THE FOX BREAKS.
Rough Rider. “By yer leave, Sir! My young Horse rushes so iv he’s Kept Waiting !”
HINTS TO MAKE HOME HAPPY.
BY A MAN WHO MARRIED LATE.
Select the days when you suspect that
there’s a make-shift sort of a dinner, for
bringing, unexpectedly, a few City men
to dine with you; and throw out such
artful hints as may lead them to infer
that your wife is a bad caterer, do what
you will to school her.
On any night when you have promised
to take her to the theatre, either don’t go
home till morning, or else come rushing
in for dinner two hours before the time,
and, when you find she is not dressed,
declare she always keeps you waiting, and
throughout the whole two hours go on
fidgeting and fuming and continually ask-
ing her how long she means to be, and
predicting that, as usual, she’ll be sure
to make you miss the only scene you
care to see.
MR. SOWERJBY’S SEASONS.
SPRING.
Briars now, and brambles shoot;
Nettles grow in hedgerows thick,
And, of birds’ nests in pursuit,
Hands of youngsters sting and prick.
Thoms increase and thistles thrive ;
Verdant hemlock crests the bank ;
Slugs and snails are all alive,
Midst the weeds that flourish rank.
Note on March, Natural and His-
torical.—Rooks in ploughed fields meet
in large flocks and hold Diet of Worms,
discussing their grub.
The Surest Way to Rise in the
World is to go up in a balloon.
You may keep an old friend—a pro-
mise made—a woman’s love—a balance
at your banker’s, but never—an um-
brella.
The advocates of indirect taxation
would, if they had their way, make the
Income-Tax the “ Whole Duty of Man.”
Thing not Generally Considered.—
The youngest and prettiest girl is no
chicken—if she is a goose.
When you take Counsel with yourself,
always pay his travelling expenses.
THE PORTRAIT.—FINISHING TOUCH TO THE DRESS.
Painter. “I beg your Pardon, but I’m afraid you are Sitting on my Palette!”
BALLAD FROM BEDLAM.
The moon is up ! the moon is up 1
The larks begin to fly,
And like a breezy buttercup
Dark Phoebus skims the sky :
The elephant with cheerful voice
Sings blithely on the spray,
The bats and beetles all rejoice,—
Then let me too be gay !
Last night I was a porcupine,
And wore a peacock’s tail,
To-morrow, if the moon but shine,
Perchance I ’ll be a whale:
Then let me, like the cauliflower,
Be merry while I may,
And, ere there comes a sunny hour
To cloud my heart, be gay !
WISH FOR MARCH.
Landlord. I hope I see you well, Mr.
Dawdle.
Tenant. You see nothing of the kind,
Mr. Screw.
Landlord. Sorry to hear it, Sir. Drawn
out that little cheque for me, Sir? This
is the 25th, you know. Sorry to trouble
you, Sir.
Tenant. I wish there was no Lady Day.
(Scowling.)
SONG BY MR. SOWERBY.
ON A CHRISTENING.
Kitchee, kitohee, little duck !
Let us hope he’s bom to luck.
His beginning here we see ;
Wonder what his end will be.
Every one has crowed and smiled,
Like this interesting child,
Once, for all were once as young—
Every person ever hung.
Parliamentary. — An Irish Member
takes the sense of the House about him-
self, and is voted a bore.
Obvious.—Why is next year's Exhibi-
tion sure to be popular ?—Because it has
been well taken up by folks (Fowkes)
from the first.
When you speak what you admit to
be plain truth, expect others to think it
downright ugly.
A HOT CHESTNUT IS A VERY GOOD THING AFTER DINNER, BUT IT IS NOT SO PLEASANT JUST AS THE FOX BREAKS.
Rough Rider. “By yer leave, Sir! My young Horse rushes so iv he’s Kept Waiting !”