Punch or The London charivari (3.1842)

100

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

and nails grow. In brief, for it is in the result only that the reader
is interested, here I am, at this moment, in my hermitage—a snug,
•weather-proof box, eighteen feet by ten—with an oak table, one
stool, one platter, one maple cup, a bed of dried rushes, one blanket,

one gown, one hat,one staff. Here I am on the night of this-day of

-, in the year of Christian hopes,-with the bell of Coney Hatch

Church jerking twelve. Here have I been these twelve months ; and
if a neighbouring fountain reflect truly, then am I as reverend and
venerable an anchorite, especially about the chin, as any nobleman could
desire to spend his cash upon. I have more than once thought—and
•strange to say, there has been a fearful pleasure in the errant notion—
that if in this drear solitude I should be made the subject of a
popular murder, my locks and beard worked in brooches, ear-
rings and bracelets, would realize sufficient from the romantic and
the curious to endow sundry anxious persons with becoming fortitude
for my untimely loss. I have, however, as speedily banished
this vanity as unworthy of my new self—as unworthy of a cell, that,
according to a very stringent agreement drawn up by the attorney of
Coney Hatch, is to be a shrine for unselfish contemplation ; a retreat,
wherein the highest powers of intellectual man, are, by daily exercise,
by nightly discipline, to climb the golden chain of necessity, and
strike delicious music from every link.

THE MODERN SPHINX.

Some patriotic individual has been puzzling the town for these last three
months by erecting at Charing Cross the annexed mysterious combination
of masonry and tarpaulin. Whether it has sprung up in rivalry to the ;
Nelson Monument, or has been placed in its present position as a stationary
umbrella—whether like that Veiled Prophet of Khorassan, it be too sublimely
frightful for mortal eyes, or, like Lot's wife, inconveniently soluble in rain-
water, we know not. Can it have had its origin in the charitable bosom
of some deceased crossing-sweeper, who may have bequeathed the savings
■of a long life for the erection of this architectural curiosity, in order that
the succeeding generations of his craft might have an abiding-place against
the " pelting of the pitiless storm ?''

Will some of our peripatetic friends be kind enough to ferret out thfi
intention of this eighth wonder of the world I

A NEW ESCAPEMENT.

The Secretary of the Fire Escape Society has written an indignant letter
to the Morning Herald, complaining that in the report of the late fire in
Tottenham-court Road, that paper had omitted to mention the number of
three-legged stools, deal-boxes, and feather-beds, whose existences were ,
spared by mean3 of the machines. Rather unfortunately, however, for J
his good intentions, we read in the same paper, that the only severe acci- :
dent during the fire, occurred to two men, after climbing up an " escape" j
to the second floor, when the ladder broke in the middle, and let them
down to the ground. If this is the usual manner in which folks are pre-
served from being burned, the alternative is rather hazardous.

COMIC BALLADS FOR THE BOUDOIR.—No. V.

THE FANCY CHARITY FAIR.

Now, come and assist me, dear Susan,

For short is the time we've to spare,
To arrange, from chaotic confusion,

Our stall for Count Hum's fancy fair.
The day is all beauty and brightness,

Tout le monde will flock thither to buy ;
And the Count, with his usual politeness,

Wants our counter the rest to outvie.

Here are watch-guards of hair, neatly plaited,

Chains, pincushions, bouquets, and gloves ;
Canes, workboxes, albums (high-ruted

As resorts for the Graces and Loves').
Fairy mirrors, for beauty to gaze in,

And study each glance, and each sigh ;
Magic wax, like Love's torch, instant blazing,

That can flame to the coldest supply.

Lord Trinket is coming to purchase

For Lady Fid-faddle a fan ;
Miss Wrinkle (I hope she won't lurch us)

Bade me save her a nice China-man.
Madame Bluster, if one may believe her,

Will pay for this ivory dove ;
And 'twas hinted to me, Ensign Lever

For " Friendship would take awav Love."

Colonel Dashali, who saw it when painting,

Intended to purchase this screen;
And little Miss Jones will be fainting

If she don't have the large mandarine.
The kennel of cardboard, so sweetly

Like a cottage with roses entwined.
Fitted up for a poodle completely,

Miss Loveless will purchase, you'll find.

All tastes must be pleased, and all suited,

From the " Gent " in his sky-satin vest,
To the gallant Hussar, spurr'd and booted,

For my tact in selecting's confess'd.
And when, with his purchase presented,

If the purchaser presses your hand ;
Such tendresse must not be resented,

So your blushes and anger command.

You'll pardon these hints of instruction,

And kindly attend to them all t
Remember—we make no deduction—

Nor abate—did they buy the whole stai!,
Bv the way, I'd forgotten to mention

(_As vet to/^ir-trading you're strange)
On this point, I must press your attention—

'Tis not thought comme-U-faut to give change!