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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOL. 1.



FOR THE WEEK ENDING OCTOBER 2, 1841.

       *       *       *       *       *


THE TIPTOES.

A SKETCH.

    "The Wrongheads have been a considerable family ever since England
    was England."

    VANBRUGH.

[Illustration: M]Morning and evening, from every village within three or
four miles of the metropolis, may be remarked a tide of young men wending
diurnal way to and from their respective desks and counters in the city,
preceded by a ripple of errand-boys, and light porters, and followed by an
ebb of plethoric elderly gentlemen in drab gaiters. Now these individuals
compose--for the most part--that particular, yet indefinite class of
people, who call themselves "gentlemen," and are called by everybody else
"persons." They are a body--the advanced guard--of the "Tiptoes;" an army
which invaded us some thirty years ago, and which, since that time, has
been actively and perseveringly spoiling and desolating our modest, quiet,
comfortable English homes, turning our parlours into "boudoirs," ripping
our fragrant patches of roses into fantastic "parterres," covering our
centre tables with albums and wax flowers, and, in short (for these
details pain us), stripping our nooks and corners of the welcome warm air
of pleasant homeliness, which was wont to be a charm and a privilege, to
substitute for it a chilly gloss--an unwholesome straining after effect--a
something less definite in its operation than in its result, which is
called--gentility.

To have done with simile. Our matrons have discovered that luxury is
specifically cheaper than comfort (and they regard them as independent, if
not incompatible terms); and more than this, that comfort is, after all,
but an irrelevant and dispensable corollary to gentility, while luxury is
its main prop and stay. Furthermore, that improvidence is a virtue of such
lustre, that itself or its likeness is essential to the very existence of
respectability; and, by carrying out this proposition, that in order to
make the least amount of extravagance produce the utmost admiration and
envy, it is desirable to be improvident as publicly as possible; the means
for such expenditure being gleaned from retrenchments in the home
department. Thus, by a system of domestic alchemy, the education of the
children is resolved into a vehicle; a couple of maids are amalgamated
into a man in livery; while to a single drudge, superintended and aided by
the mistress and elder girls, is confided the economy of the pantry, from
whose meagre shelves are supplied supplementary blondes and kalydors.

Now a system of economy which can induce a mother to "bring up her
children at home," while she regards a phaeton as absolutely necessary to
convey her to church and to her tradespeople, and an annual visit to the
sea-side as perfectly indispensable to restore the faded complexions of
Frances and Jemima, ruined by late hours and hot cream, may be considered
open to censure by the philosopher who places women (and girls, _i.e._
unmarried women) in the rank of responsible or even rational creatures.
But in this disposition he would be clearly wrong. Before venturing to
define the precise capacity of either an individual or a class, their own
opinion on the subject should assuredly be consulted; and we are quite
sure that there is not one of the lady Tiptoes who would not recoil with
horror from the suspicion of advancing or even of entertaining an idea--it
having been ascertained that everything original (sin and all) is quite
inconformable with the feminine character--unless indeed it be a method of
finding the third side of a turned silk--or of defining that zero of
fortune, to stand below which constitutes a "detrimental."

The Misses Tiptoe are an indefinite number of young ladies, of whom it is
commonly remarked that some may have been pretty, and others may,
hereafter, be pretty. But they never _are_ so; and, consequently, they are
very fearful of being eclipsed by their dependents, and take care to
engage only ill-favoured governesses, and (but 'tis an old pun) very plain
cooks. The great business of their lives is fascination, and in its
pursuit they are unremitting. It is divided in distinct departments, among
the sisters; each of whom is characterised at home by some laudatory
epithet, strikingly illustrative of what they would like to be. There is
Miss Tiptoe, such an amiable girl! that is, she has a large mouth, and a
Mallan in the middle of it. There is Jemima, "who enjoys such delicate
health "--_that_ is, she has no bust, and wears a scarf. Then there is
Grace, who is all for evening rambles, and the "Pilgrim of Love;" and
Fanny, who can _not_ help talking; and whom, in its turn, talking
certainly cannot help. They are remarkable for doing a little of
everything at all times. Whether it be designing on worsted or on
bachelors--whether concerting overtures musical or matrimonial; the same
pretty development of the shoulder through that troublesome scarf--the
same hasty confusion in drawing it on again, and referring to the watch to
see what time it is--displays the mind ever intent on the great object of
their career. But they seldom marry (unless, in desperation, their
cousins), for they despise the rank which they affect to have quitted--and
no man of sense ever loved a Tiptoe. So they continue at home until the
house is broken up; and then they retire in a galaxy to some provincial
Belle Vue-terrace or Prospect-place; where they endeavour to forestall the
bachelors with promiscuous orange-blossoms and maidenly susceptibilities.
We have characterised these heart-burning efforts after "station," as
originating with, and maintained by, the female branches of the family;
and they are so--but, nevertheless, their influence on the young men is no
less destructive than certain. It is a fact, that, the more restraint that
is inflicted on these individuals in the gilded drawing-room at home, the
more do they crave after the unshackled enjoyment of their animal
vulgarity abroad. Their principal characteristics are a love of large
plaids, and a choice vocabulary of popular idiomatic forms of speech; and
these will sufficiently define them in the saloons of the theatres and in
the cigar divans. But they are not ever thus. By no means. At home (which
does not naturally indicate their own house), having donned their "other
waistcoat" and their pin (emblematic of a blue hand grasping an egg, or of
a butterfly poised on a wheel)--pop! they are _gentlemen_. With the
hebdomadal sovereign straggling in the extreme verge of their
pockets--with the afternoon rebuke of the "principal," or peradventure of
some senior clerk, still echoing in their ears--they are GENTLEMEN. They
are desired to be such by their mother and sisters, and so they talk about
cool hundreds--and the points of horses--and (on the strength of the
dramatic criticisms in the _Satirist_) of Grisi in _Norma_, and Persiani
in _La Sonnambula_--of Taglioni and Cerito--of last season and the season
before that.

We know not how far the readers of PUNCH may be inclined to approve so
prosy an article as this in their pet periodical; but we have ventured to
appeal to them (as the most sensible people in the country) against a
class of shallow empirics, who have managed to glide unchidden into our
homes and our families, to chill the one and to estrange the other.
Surely, surely, we were unworthy of our descent, could we see unmoved our
lovely English girls, whose modesty was wont to be equalled only by their
beauty, concentrating all their desires and their energies on a good
match; or our reverend English matrons, the pride and honour of the land,
employing themselves in the manufacture of fish-bone blanc-mange and
mucilaginous tipsy-cakes; or our young Englishmen, our hope and our
resource, spending themselves in the debasing contamination of cigars and
alcohol.

       *       *       *       *       *


CONDENSED PARLIAMENTARY REPORT ON THE MISCELLANEOUS ESTIMATES.

    Vide _Examiner_.

  MR. WILLIAMS--objected--
  SIR T. WILDE--vindicated--
  SIR R. PEEL--doubted--
  MR. PLUMPTRE--opposed--
  MR. VILLIERS--requested--
  MR. EWART--moved--
  MR. EASTCOURT--thought--
  MR. FERRAND--complained--
  LORD JOHN RUSSELL--wished--
  MR. AGLIONBY--was of opinion--
  MR. STEWART WORTLEY--hoped--
  MR. WAKLEY--thought--
  MR. RICE--urged--
  MR. FIELDEN--regretted--
  MR. WARD--was convinced--

       *       *       *       *       *


TAKING THE HODDS.

On a recent visit of Lord Waterford to the "Holy Land," then to sojourn in
the hostel or caravansera of the protecting _Banks_ of that classic
ground, that interesting young nobleman adopted, as the seat of his
precedency, a Brobdignag hod, the private property of some descendant from
one of the defunct kings of Ulster; at the close of an eloquent harangue;
his lordship expressed an earnest wish that he should be able to continue

[Illustration: GOING IT LIKE BRICKS--]

a hope instantly gratified by the stalwart proprietor, who, wildly
exclaiming, "Sit aisy!" hoisted the lordly burden on his shoulders, and
gave him the full benefit of a shilling fare in that most unusual vehicle.

       *       *       *       *       *


Q.E.D.

"SIR ROBERT PEEL thinks a great deal of himself," says the _British
Critic_. "Yes," asserts PUNCH, "he is just the man to trouble himself
about trifles."

       *       *       *       *       *


[Illustration]

ROEBUCK DEFYING THE "THUNDERER."


    Roebuck was seated in his great arm chair,
        Looking as senatorial and wise
        As a calf's head, when taken in surprise;
    A half-munch'd muffin did his fingers bear--
    An empty egg-shell proved his meal nigh o'er.
    When, lo! there came a tapping at the door:
        "Come in!" he cried,
        And in another minute by his side
    Stood John the footboy, with the morning paper,
    Wet from the press. O'er Roebuck's cheek
      There passed a momentary gleam of joy,
    Which spoke, as plainly as a smile could speak,
      "Your master's speech is in that paper, boy."
    He waved his hand--the footboy left the room--
    Roebuck pour'd out a cup of Hyson bloom;
    And, having sipp'd the tea and sniff'd the vapour,
    Spread out the "Thunderer" before his eyes--
    When, to his great surprise,
    He saw imprinted there, in black and white,
      That he, THE ROE-buck--HE, whom all men knew,
    Had been expressly born to set worlds right--
      That HE was nothing but a _parvenu_.
    Jove! was it possible they lack'd the knowledge he
    Boasted a literary and scientific genealogy!
    That he had had some ancestors before him--
    (Beside the Pa who wed the Ma who bore him)--
    Men whom the world had slighted, it is true,
        Because it never knew
    The greatness of the genius which had lain,
    Like unwrought ore, within each vasty brain;
    And as a prejudice exists that those
    Who never do disclose
    The knowledge that they boast of, seldom have any,
    Each of his learned ancestors had died,
    By an ungrateful world belied,
    And dubb'd a Zany.
        That HE should be
        Denied a pedigree!
    Appeared so monstrous in this land of freedom,
    He instantly conceived the notion
    To go down to the House and make a motion,
    That all men had a right to those who breed 'em.

       *       *       *       *       *

    Behold him in his seat, his face carnation,
    Just like an ace of hearts,
    Not red and white in parts,
    But one complete illumination.
    He rises--members blow their noses,
    And cough and hem! till one supposes,
    A general catarrh prevails from want of ventilation.
  He speaks:--
    Mr. Speaker, Sir, in me you see
    A member of this house (_hear, hear_),
    With whose proud pedigree
    The "Thunderer" has dared to interfere.
    Now I implore,
    That Lawson may be brought upon the floor,
    And beg my pardon on his bended knees.
    In whatsoever terms I please.
        _(Oh! oh!)
        (No! no!)_
        I, too, propose,
        To pull his nose:
    No matter if the law objects or not;
    And if the printer's nose cannot be got,
      The small proboscis of the printer's devil
      Shall serve my turn for language so uncivil!
          The "Thunderer" I defy,
          And its vile lie.
      (As Ajax did the lightning flash of yore.)
      I likewise move this House requires--
      No, that's too complimentary--desires,
      That Mr. Lawson's brought upon the floor.
          The thing was done:
      The house divided, and the Ayes were--ONE!

       *       *       *       *       *


EXPRESS FROM WINDSOR.

Last evening a most diabolical, and, it is to be regretted successful,
attempt, was made to kiss the Princess Royal. It appears that the Royal
Babe was taking an airing in the park, reclining in the arms of her
principal nurse, and accompanied by several ladies of the court, who were
amusing the noble infant by playing rattles, when a man of ferocious
appearance emerged from behind some trees, walked deliberately up to the
noble group, placed his hands on the nurse, and bent his head over the
Princess. The Honourable Miss Stanley, guessing the ruffian's intention,
earnestly implored him to kiss her instead, in which request she was
backed by all the ladies present.[1] He was not, however, to be frustrated
in the attempt, which no sooner had he accomplished, than he hurried off
amidst the suppressed screams of the ladies. The Royal Infant was
immediately carried to the palace, where her heart-rending cries attracted
the attention of her Majesty, who, on hurrying to the child, and hearing
the painful narration, would, in the burst of her maternal affection, have
kissed the infant, had not Sir J. Clarke, who was fortunately present,
prevented her so doing.

    [1] This circumstance alone must at once convince every
        unprejudiced person of the utter falsity of the reports
        (promulgated by certain interested parties) of the disloyalty
        of the Tory ladies, when we see several dames placed in the
        most imminent danger, yet possessing sufficient presence of
        mind to offer _lip-service_ to their sovereign.--EDITOR. _Morn.
        Post_.

Dr. Locock was sent for from town, who, immediately on his arrival at
Windsor, held a conference with Sir J. Clarke, and a basin of pap was
prepared by them, which being administered to the Royal Infant, produced
the most satisfactory results.

We are prohibited from stating the measures taken for the detection of the
ruffian, lest their disclosure should frustrate the ends of justice.

       *       *       *       *       *


A ROYAL DUCK.

His Royal Highness Prince Albert, during the sojourn of the Court at
Windsor Castle, became, by constant practice in the Thames, so expert a
swimmer, that, with the help of a cork jacket, he could, like Jones of the
celebrated firm of "Brown, Jones, and Robinson," swim "anywhere over the
river." Her Majesty, however, with true conjugal regard for the safety of
the royal duck, never permitted him to venture into the water without

[Illustration: A COMPANION OF THE BATH.]

       *       *       *       *       *


HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS.

Michelly, of the _Morning Post_, was boasting to Westmacott of his
intimate connexion with the aristocracy. "The _area_-stocracy, more
likely," replied the ex-editor of the _Argus_.

       *       *       *       *       *


GREAT ANNUAL MICHAELMAS JUBILEE.

MAGNIFICENT CELEBRATION OF GOOSE-DAY.

How often are we--George Stephens-like--to be called upon to expend our
invaluable breath in performing Eolian operations upon our own cornopean!
Here have we, at an enormous expense and paralysing peril, been obliged to
dispatch our most trusty and well-beloved reporter, to the fens in
Lincolnshire, stuffed with brandy, swathed in flannel, and crammed with
jokes; from whence he, at the cost of infinite pounds, unnumbered
rheumatisms, and a couple of agues, caught, to speak vulgarly, "in a brace
of shakes," has forwarded us the following authentic account of the august
proceedings which took place in that county on the anniversary of the great
St. Michaelmas.


FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.

_Tuesday night_.--Depths of the fens--just arrived--only time to state all
muck--live eels and festivity--Sibthorp in extra force--betting 6 to 4
"he cooks everybody's goose"--no takers--D'Israeli says it's a gross want
of sympathy--full account to-morrow--expect rare doings--must
conclude--whrr-rh-h--tertian coming on--promises great shakes.

I am, sincerely and shiveringly,

YOUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.


_Wednesday morning_.--The day dawned like a second deluge, and the various
volunteer _dramatis personæ_ seemed like the spectres of the defunct
water-dogs of Sadler's Wells. An eminent tallow-chandler from the east end
of Whitechapel contracted for the dripping, and report says he found it a
very swimming speculation. Life-preservers, waterproof and washable hats,
were on the ground, which, together with Macintoshes and corks, formed a
pleasing and varied group. The grand stand was graced by several eminent
and capacious geese; nor was the infantine simplicity of numerous
promising young goslings wanting to complete the delightful _ensemble_.

The business of the day commenced with a grand commemorative procession of
homage to the prize goose, the representative of whom, we are proud to
say, fell by election to the envied lot of the gallant, jocose, and _Joe
Miller_tary Colonel Sibthorp.


ORDER OF PROCESSION.

    Trumpeter in Ordinary to "all the geese," and
    himself in particular,
    On his extraordinary Pegasus, beautifully represented by a Jackass,
    Idealised with magnificent goose's wings.
    Mr. GEORGE STEPHENS, Grand Master of Hanky-panky.
    Balancing on the Pons Asinorum of his Nose the Identical goose-quill
    with which he indited the Wondrous Tale of Alroy,
    Mr. BEN D'ISRAELI (much admired).
    The great Stuffer and Crammer, bearing a stupendous dish
    Of Sage and Onions,
    Seated in a magnificent Sauce-boat, supported on either side by
    Two fly pages bearing Apple-sauce,
    And a train-bearer distributing mustard,
    SIR EDWARD GEORGE ERLE LYTTON BULWER.
    Grand Officiating Gravy Spoon,
    A character admirably sustained, and
    supported to the life, by
    PETER BORTHWICK, M.P. and G.O.G.S.
    Drawer and Carver-in-Chief,
    Bearing some splendidly-dissected giblets, with gilt gizzard under his
    right arm, and plated liver under his left,
    Surgeon WAKLEY, M.P.
    Hereditary Champion of the Pope's Nose,
    Bearing the dismembered Relic enclosed in a beautifully-enamelled
    Dutch oven,
    DANIEL O'CONNELL, M.P.
    The grand Prize Goose,
    Reclining on a splendid willow-pattern well dish,
    Colonel WALDO SIBTHORP!
    Supported by CHARLES PEARSON, and Sir PETER LAURIE,
    With flowery potatoes and shocking greens.
    Grand Accountant-General,
    With a magnificent banner, bearing an elaborate average rate of the price
    _of geese_.
    And the cheapest depôts for the same,
    JOSEPH HUME, M.P.

This imposing procession having reached the grand kitchen, which had been
erected for the occasion, the festivities instantly commenced by the
Vice-Goose, Sir EDWARD LYTTON ERLE BULWER, proposing the health of the
gallant Chairman, the Great-grand Goose:--

"Mr. Chairman and prize goose,--The feelings which now agitate my
sensorium on this Michaelmasian occasion stimulate the vibratetiuncles of
the heartiean hypothesis, so as to paralyse the oracular and articulative
apparatus of my loquacious confirmation, overwhelming my soul-fraught
imagination, as the boiling streams of liquid lava, buried in one vast
cinereous mausoleum--the palace-crowded city of the engulphed Pompeii.
(_Immense cheers_.)--I therefore propose a Methusalemic elongation of the
duration of the vital principle of the presiding anserian paragon."
(_Stentorian applause, continued for half-an-hour after the rising of the
Prize Goose_) who said--

"Fellow Geese and Goslings,--Julius Cæsar, when he laid the first stone
of the rock of Gibraltar--Mr. Carstairs, the celebrated caligrapher, when
he indited the inscription on the Rosetta stone--Cleopatra, when she
hemmed Anthony's bandanna with her celebrated needle--the Colossus of
Rhodes, when he walked and won his celebrated match against Captain
Barclay--Galileo, when he discovered and taught his grandmother the mode
of sucking eggs--could not feel prouder than I do upon the present
occasion. (_Cheers_.) These reminiscences, I can assure you, will ever
stick in my grateful gizzard."

Here the gallant Colonel sat down, overcome by his feelings and several
glasses of Betts' best British brandy.

Song--"Goosey, goosey gander."

Mr. D'ISRAELI then rose, and said,--"Chair, and brethren of the quill, I
feel, in assuming the perpendicular, like the sun when sinking into his
emerald bed of western waters. Overcome by emotions mighty as the
impalpable beams of the harmonious moon's declining light, and forcibly
impressed as the trembling oak, girt with the invisible arms of the gentle
loving zephyr; the blush mantles on my cheek, deep as the unfathomed
depths of the azure ocean. I say, gentlemen, impressed as I am with a
sense--with a sense, I say, with a sense--" Here the hon. gentleman sat
down for want of a termination.

Song--"No more shall the children of Judah sing."

Mr. PETER BORTHWICK (having corked himself a handsome pair of mustachios),
next rose, and said,--"Most potent, grave, and reverend signors, and Mr.
Chairman,--if it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done
quickly'--in rising to drink--'my custom always of an afternoon'--the
health of Sir Peter Laurie, and whom I can ask, in the language of the
immortal bard, 'where gottest thou that goose look,' I can only say, 'had
Heaven made me such another,' I would not"-- Then Peter Borthwick sat
down, evidently indisposed, exclaiming--"The drink, Hamlet, the drink!!!"

Here our reporter left the meeting, who were vociferously chanting, by way
of grace, previous to the attack on the "roast geese," the characteristic
anthem of the "King of the Cannibal Islands."

       *       *       *       *       *


DYER IGNORANCE.

It has been rumoured that Mr. Bernal, the new member, has been for some
weeks past suffering from a severe attack of scarlet fever, caused by his
late unparliamentary conduct in addressing the assembled legislators
as--gentlemen. We are credibly informed that this unprecedented piece of
ignorance has had the effect, as Shakspere says, of

[Illustration: "MAKING THE GREEN ONE RED."--_Macbeth_.]

       *       *       *       *       *


MAKING A COMPOSITION WITH ONE'S ANCESTORS.

Roebuck, the ex-attorney, and member for Bath, who has evinced a most
commendable love of his parents, from his great-grandfather upwards,
seeing the utter impossibility of carrying through the "whole hog"
conviction of their respectability, and finding himself in rather an
awkward "fix," on the present occasion begs to inform the editor of the
_Times_, that he will be most happy to accept a compromise, on their
literary and scientific attainments, at the very reasonable rate of

[Illustration: SIX-AND-EIGHTPENCE IN THE POUND.]

       *       *       *       *       *


PUNCH'S HISTRIONIC READINGS IN HISTORY.

NO. 1.--ENGLAND.

Of the early history of England nothing is known. It was, however, invaded
by the _Normans_; but whether they were any relations of the once
celebrated _Norman_ the pantaloon, we have no authentic record. The
kingdom had at one time seven kings--two of whom were probably the two
well-known kings of Brentford. Perhaps, also, the king of Little Britain
made a third; while old king Cole may have constituted a fourth; thus
leaving only a trifling balance of three to be accounted for.

Alfred the Great is supposed to have been originally a baker, from his
having undertaken the task of watching the cakes in the neat-herd's oven;
and Edward the Black Prince was probably a West Indian, who found his way
to our hospitable shores at an early period.

We now come to King John, who ascended the throne after putting out his
nephew's eyes with a pair of curling-irons, and who is the first English
Sovereign who attempted to write his own name; for the scrawl is evidently
something more than his mark, which is attached to Magna Charta.

We need say nothing of Richard the Third, with whom all our play-going
friends are familiar, and who made the disgraceful offer, if Shakspeare is
to be believed, of parting with the whole kingdom for a horse, though it
does not appear that the disreputable bargain was ever completed.

The wars of York and Lancaster, which, though not exactly _couleur de
rose_, were on the subject of white and red roses (that is to say, China
and cabbage), united the crown in the person of Henry the Seventh, known
to the play-going public as the Duke of Richmond, and remarkable for
having entered the country by the Lincolnshire fens; for he talks of
having got into "the bowels of the land" immediately on his arrival.

Henry the Eighth, as everybody knows, was the husband of seven wives, and
gave to Mr. Almar (the Sadler's Wells Stephens) the idea of his beautiful
dramatic poem of the Wife of Seven Husbands.

Elizabeth's reign is remarkable for having produced a mantle which is worn
at the present day, it having been originally made for one Shakspeare; but
it is now worn by Mr. George Stephens, for whom, however, it is a palpable
misfit, and it sits upon him most awkwardly.

Charles the First had his head cut off, and Mr. Cathcart acted him so
naturally in Miss Mitford's play that one would have thought the monarch
was entirely without a head all through the tragedy.

Cromwell next obtained the chief authority. This man was a brewer, who did
not think "small beer" of himself, and inundated his country with "heavy
wet," in the shape of tears, for a long period.

Charles the Second, well known as the merry monarch, is remarkable only
for his profligacy, and for the number of very bad farces in which he has
been the principal character. His brother James had a short reign, but not
a merry one. He is the only English sovereign who may be said to have
_amputated his bludgeon_; which, if we were speaking of an ordinary man
and not a monarch, we should have rendered by the familiar phrase of "cut
his stick," a process which was soon performed by his majesty.

The crown now devolved upon William and Mary, upon whom half-a crown
a-piece was thus settled by the liberality of Parliament. William was
_Prince of Orange_, a descendant probably of the great King _Pippin_.

Anne of Denmark comes next on our list, but of her we shall say nothing;
and as the Georges who followed her are so near own time, we shall
observe, with regard to them, an equally impenetrable mystery.

       *       *       *       *       *


WAR TO THE NAIL.

The _British Critic_, the high church, in fact, steeple Tory journal,
tells its readers, "if we strike out the first person of Robert's
speeches, ay, out of his whole career, they become a rope untwisted," &c.
&c. &c. This excited old lady is evidently anxious to disfigure the head
of the government, by scratching Sir Robert Peel's I's out.

       *       *       *       *       *


MOLAR AND INCISOR.

Muntz, in rigging Wakley upon the late article in the _Examiner_, likening
the member for Finsbury, in his connexion with Sir Robert Peel, "to the
bird which exists by picking the crocodile's teeth," jocularly remarked,
"Well, I never had any body to pick my teeth." "I should think not, or
they would have chosen a much better set."

       *       *       *       *       *


TWENTY POUNDS.

READER, did you ever want twenty pounds? You have--you have!--I see it--I
know it! Nay, never blush! Your hand--your hand!

READER.--Sir, I--

Silence!--nonsense--stuff; don't, don't prevaricate--own it as I do,--own
it and rejoice.

READER.--Really, sir, this conduct--

Is strange. Granted; don't draw back; come, a cordial gripe. We are
friends; we have both suffered from the same cause. There, that's
right--honest palm to palm. Now, how say you--have you ever wanted twenty
pounds?

READER.--Frankly, then, I have.

Mind to mind, as hand to hand. Have you felt as I did? Did its want cloud
the sun, wither the grass, and blight the bud?

READER.--It did.

But how, marry, how? What! you decline confession--so you may--I'll be
more explicit. I was abroad, far from my "father-land"--there's a magic in
the word!--the turf we've played on, the hearts we love, the graves we
venerate--all, all combine to concentrate its charm.

READER.--You are digressing.

Thank you, I am; but I'll resume. While I could buy them, friends indeed
were plenty. Alas! prudence is seldom co-mate with youth and inexperience.
The golden dream was soon to end--end even with the yellow dross that gave
it birth. Fallacious hopes of coming "posts," averted for a time my coming
wretchedness--three weeks, and not a line! The landlord suffered from an
intermitting affection, characteristic of the "stiff-necked
generation;"--he bowed to others--galvanism could not have procured the
tithe of a salaam for me. His till was afflicted with a sort of
sinking-fundishness. I was the contractor of "the small bill," whose exact
amount would enable him to meet a "heavy payment;" my very garments were
"tabooed" from all earth's decencies; splashes seemed to have taken a
lease of the bottoms of my trousers. My boots, once objects of the
tenderest care of their unworthy namesake, seemed conscious of the change,
and drooped in untreed wretchedness, desponding at the wretched wrinkles
now ruffling the once smooth calf! My coat no more appeared to catch the
dust; as if under the influence of some invisible charm, its white-washed
elbows never struck upon the sight of the else all-seeing boots; spider
never rushed from his cell with the post-haste speed with which he issued
from his dark recess, to pick the slightest cobweb that ever harnessed
Queen Mab's team, from _other_ coats; a gnat, a wandering hair left its
location, swept by the angry brush from the broad-cloth of those who paid
their bills--as far as I was concerned--all were inoculated with this
strange blindness. It was an overwhelming ophthalmia! The chambermaid,
through its fatality, never discovered that my jugs were empty, my bottle
clothed with slimy green, my soap-dish left untenanted. A day before this
time had been sufficient service for my hand-towel; now a week seemed to
render it less fit to taste the rubs of hands and soap. Dust lost its
vice, and lay unheeded in the crammed corner of my luckless room.

READER.--I feel for you.

Silence! the worst is yet to come. At dinner all things changed--soup,
before too hot to drink, came to my lips cool as if the north wind had
caressed it; number was at an end; I ranked no longer like a human being;
I was a huge _ought_--a walking cypher--a vile round O. I had neither
beginning nor end. Go where I would--top, bottom, sides, 'twas all the
same. Bouilli avoided me--vegetables declined growing under my eyes--fowls
fled from me. I might as well have longed for ice-cream in
Iceland--dessert in a desert. I had no turn--I was the _last man_.
Nevertheless, dinner was a necessary evil.

READER.--And tea?

Was excluded from the calendar. Night came, but no rest--all things had
forgotten their office. The sheets huddled in undisturbed selfishness,
like knotted cables, in one corner of the bed; the blankets, doubtless
disgusted at their conduct, sought refuge at the foot; and the flock, like
most other flocks, without a directing hand, was scattered in disjointed
heaps.

READER.--Did not you complain?

I did--_imprimis_--to boots--boots scratched his head; ditto
waiter--waiter shook his; the chambermaid, strange to say, was suddenly
deaf.

READER.--And the landlord?

Did nothing all day; but when I spoke, was in a hurry, "going to his
ledger," Had I had as many months as hydra, that would have stopped them
all.

READER.--You were to be _pitied_.

I was. I rose one morning with the sun--it scorched my face, but shone
not. Nature was in her spring-time to all others, though winter to me. I
wandered beside the banks of the rapid Rhine, I saw nothing but the thick
slime that clogged them, and wondered how I could have thought them
beautiful; the pebbles seemed crushed upon the beach, the stream but added
to their lifelessness by heaping on them its dull green slime; the lark,
indeed, was singing--Juliet was right--its notes were nothing but "harsh
discords and unpleasing sharps"--a rainbow threw its varied arch across
the heavens--sadness had robbed it of its charm--it seemed a visionary
cheat--a beautiful delusion.

READER.--I feel with you.

I thank you. I went next day.

READER.--What then?

The glorious sun shed life and joy around--the clear water rushed bounding
on in glad delight to the sweet music of the scented wind--the pebbly
beach welcomed its chaste cool kiss, and smiled in freshness as it rolled
again back to its pristine bed. The buds on which I stepped, elastic with
high hope, sprung from the ground my foot had pressed them to--the lark--

READER.--You can say nothing new about that.

You are right. I'll pass it, and come at once to an end. My boots stood
upright, conscious of their glare; a new spring rushed into my bottles;
Flora's sweets were witnessed in my dress; a mite, a tiny mite, might have
made progress round my room, nor found a substance larger than itself to
stop its way. My lips at dinner were scalded with the steaming soup; the
eager waiters, rushing with the choicest sauce, in dread collision met,
and soused my well-brushed coat. I was once more number one!--all things
had changed again.

READER--Except the rainbow.

Ay, even that.

READER,--Indeed! how so?

If still impalpable to the gross foot of earth, it seemed to the charmed
mind a glowing passage for the freed spirit to mount to bliss!

READER.--May I ask what caused this difference?

You may, and shall be answered. I had received--

READER.--What?

TWENTY POUNDS!

FUSBOS.

       *       *       *       *       *


CURIOSITY HUNTERS

There is a large class of people in the world--the business of whose lives
is to hunt after and collect trifling curiosities; who go about like the
Parisian _chiffonniers_, grubbing and poking in the highways and byeways
of society, for those dearly-prized objects which the generality of
mankind would turn up their noses at as worthless rubbish. But though the
tribe of curiosity-hunters be extremely numerous, Nature, by a wise
provision, has bestowed on them various appetites, so that, in the pursuit
of their prey, they are led by different instincts, and what one seizes
with avidity, another rejects as altogether unworthy of notice.

The varieties of the species are interminable; some of them are well
known, and need no description--such as the book-worm, the bird-stuffer,
the coin-taster, the picture-scrubber, &c.; but there are others whose
tastes are singularly eccentric: of these I may mention the snuff-box
collector, the cane-fancier, the ring-taker, the play-bill gatherer, to
say nothing of one illustrious personage, whose passion for collecting a
library of Bibles is generally known. But there is another individual of
the species that I have not yet mentioned, whose morbid pleasure in
collecting relics and memorials of the most revolting deeds of blood and
crime is too well authenticated to be discredited. I believe that this
variety, which I term "The Criminal Curiosity Hunter," is unknown to every
country in the world, except England.

How such a horrible taste should have been engendered here, is a question
not easily solved. Physiologists are inclined to attribute it to our heavy
atmosphere, which induces gloomy thoughts and fancies; while moralists
assign as its cause, the sanguinary spirit of our laws, our brutal
exhibitions of hanging, drawing and quartering, of gibbettings, whippings,
brandings, and torturings, which degrade men's natures, and give them a
relish for scenes of blood and cruelty.

It happened that I had occasion to call on one of those "Criminal
Curiosity Hunters" lately. He received me with extreme urbanity, and
pointing to an old-fashioned-looking arm-chair, requested me to be
seated.--I did so.

"I suppose, sir," said he, with an air of suppressed triumph, "that you
have no idea that you are now sitting in a remarkable chair?"

I assured him I was totally unconscious of the fact.

"I can tell you, then," he replied, "that it was in that chair Fauntleroy,
the banker, who was hanged for forgery, was sitting when he was arrested."

"Indeed!"

"Fact, sir! I gave ten guineas for it. I thought also to have obtained the
night-cap in which he slept the night before his execution, but another
collector was beforehand with me, and bribed the turnkey to steal it for
him."

"I had no idea there could be any competition for such an article," I
observed.

"Ah! sir," said he, with a deep sigh, "you don't know the value of these
interesting relics. I have been for upwards of thirty years a collector of
them, and I have now as pretty a museum of Criminal Curiosities as you
could desire to see."

"It seems you have been indefatigable in your pursuit," said I.

"Yes," he replied, "when a man devotes himself to a great object, he must
go to it heart and soul. I have spared neither time nor money in _my_
pursuit; and since I became a collector, I have attended the execution of
every noted malefactor throughout the kingdom."

Perceiving that my attention was drawn to a common rope, which served as a
bell-pull, he said--

"I see you are remarking my bell-cord--that is the identical rope, sir,
which hanged Bellingham, who shot Mr. Perceval in the House of Commons. I
offered any sum for the one in which Thistlewood ended his life to match
it--but I was unfortunately disappointed; and the laws have now become so
disgracefully lenient, that I fear I shall never have an opportunity of
procuring a respectable companion rope for the other side of my
mantel-piece. And 'tis all owing to the rascally Whigs, sir--they have
swept away all our good old English customs, and deprived us of our
national recreations. I remember, sir, when Monday was called 'hanging
day' at the Old Bailey; on that morning a man might he certain of seeing
three or four criminals swung off before his breakfast. 'Tis a curious
study, sir, that of hanging--I have seen a great many people suffer in my
time: some go off as quiet as lambs, while others die very reluctantly. I
have remarked, sir, that 'tis very difficult to hang a Jew pedlar, or a
hackney-coachman--there's something obstinate in their nature that won't
let them die like other men. But, as I said before, the Whigs and
reformers have knocked up the hanging profession; and if it was not for
the suicides, which, I am happy to say, are as abundant as ever, I don't
know what we should do."

After my friend's indignation against the anti-hanging principles of
Reform had subsided a little, he invited me to examine his curiosities,
which he had arranged in an adjoining room.

"I have not," said he, as we were proceeding thither, "confined my
collection to objects connected with capital offenders only; it
comprehends relics of every grade of crime, from murder to petty larceny.
In that respect I am liberal, sir."

We had now reached the door of the apartment, when my conductor, seizing
my arm suddenly, pointed to the door-mat upon which I had just set my
foot, and said, "Observe that mat, sir; it is composed of oakum picked by
the fair fingers of the late Lady Barrymore, while confined in the
Penitentiary."

I cast a glance at this humble memorial of her late ladyship's industry,
and passed into the museum. In doing so, I happened to stumble over a
stable-bucket, which my friend affirmed was the one from which Thurtell
watered his horse on his way to Probert's cottage. Opening a drawer, he
produced a pair of dirty-looking slippers, the authentic property of the
celebrated Ikey Solomons; and along with them a pair of cotton hose, which
he assured me he had mangled with his own hands in Sarah Gale's mangle. In
another drawer he directed my attention to a short clay pipe, once in the
possession of Burke; and a tobacco-stopper belonging to Hare, the
notorious murderer. He had also preserved with great care Corder's
advertisement for a wife, written in his own hand, as it appeared in the
weekly papers, and a small fragment of a tile from the Red Barn, where
Maria Martin was murdered by the same Corder. He also possessed the fork
belonging to the knife with which some German, whose name I forget, cut
his wife's and children's throats; and a pewter half-quartern measure,
used at the Black Lion, in Wych-street, by Sixteen-string Jack.

There were, likewise, in the collection several interesting relics of
humorous felony; such as the snuff-box of the Cock-lane ghost--the stone
thrown by Collins at William the Fourth's head--a copy of Sir Francis
Burden's speech, for which he was committed to the Tower--an odd black
silk glove, worn by Mr. Cotton, the late ordinary of Newgate--Barrington's
silver tooth-pick--and a stay-lace of Miss Julia Newman.

These were but a small portion of the contents of the museum; but I had
seen enough to make me sick of the exhibition, and I withdrew with the
firm resolution never again, during my life, to enter the house of a
_Criminal Curiosity Hunter_.

X.

       *       *       *       *       *


ECCENTRICITIES OF THE MINOR DRAMA.

We had intended to have arranged, for the use of future syncretics, a
system of coincidences, compiled from the plots of those magnificent
soul-stirring extravaganzas produced and acted at the modern temples of
the drama--the chaste Victoria--the didactic Sadler's Wells--and the
tramontane Pavilion: but we have found the subject too vast for
comprehension, and must content ourselves with noting some of the more
exorbitant and refined instances of genius and hallucination displayed in
those mighty works. Among these the following are pre-eminent:--

It is a remarkable thing that mothers are always buried on the tops of
inaccessible mountains, and that, when it occurs to their afflicted
daughters to go and pray at their tombs, they generally choose a
particularly inclement night as best adapted for that purpose. It is
convenient, too, if any murder took place exactly on the spot, exactly
twenty years before, because in that case it is something agreeable to
reflect upon and allude to.

It is remarkable that people never lie down but to dream, and that they
always dream quite to the purpose, and immediately on having done
dreaming, they wake and act upon it.

It is remarkable that young men never know definitely whose sons they are,
and generally turn out to belong to the wrong father, and find that they
have been falling in love with their sisters, and all that sort of thing.

N.B. Wanted, a new catastrophe for these incidents, as suicide is going
out of fashion.

It is remarkable that whenever people are in a particular hurry to be off,
they make a point of singing a song to put themselves in spirits, and as
an effectual method of concealing their presence from their enemies, who
are always close at hand with knives.

It is remarkable that things always go wrong until the last scene, and
then there is such hurry and bustle to get them right again, that no one
would ever believe it could be done in the time; only they know it must
be, and make up their minds to it accordingly.

One word more. Like St. Dunstan's feet, which possessed the sacred virtue
of self-multiplication, and of which there existed three at one time, it
appears to be a prerogative of epithets of the superlative degree to
attach themselves to any number of substantives. Thus the most popular
comedian of the day is five different men--the most beautiful drama ever
produced is two farces--an opera and a tragedy--and the most decided hit
in the memory of man is the "Grecian Statues"--"The Wizard of the
Moon"--"The Devil's Daughter"--"Martinuzzi"--and "The Refuge for the
Destitute."

       *       *       *       *       *


THE "WELL-DRESSED" AND THE "WELL-TO-DO."

"There has for the last few days been a smile on the face _of every
well-dressed gentleman_, and _of every well-to-do artisan_, who wend their
way along the streets of this vast metropolis. It is caused by the
opposition exhibition of Friday night in the House of Commons."

Such is the comfortable announcement of a Tory morning paper,--the very
incarnation of spiteful imbecility. Such is the self-complacency of the
old Tory hag, that in her wildest moments would bite excessively,--if she
only had teeth. She has, however, in the very simplicity of her smirking,
let out the whole secret--has, in the sweet serenity of her satisfaction,
revealed the selfishness, the wickedness of her creed. _Toryism believes
only in the well-dressed and the well-to-do_. Purple and fine linen are
the instrumental parts of her religion. She subscribes, in fact, to
forty-three points; four meals a day being added to her Christian
Thirty-nine Articles. Her faith is in glossy raiment and a full belly. She
has such a reverence for the loaves and fishes, that in the fulness of her
devotion, she would eat them--as the author of the _Almanach des
Gourmands_ advises the epicure to eat a certain exquisite dainty--"on her
knees." She would die a martyr at the fire;--but then it must be lighted
in the kitchen.

The parliamentary exhibition which, according to the _Sycorax_ of
Toryism--a _Sycorax_ with double malice, but no potency--has set all the
well-dressed and well-to-do part of "this vast metropolis" off in one
simultaneous simper, took place on the following motion made by Mr.
FIELDEN:--

"Resolved,--That the distress of the working people at the present time is
so great through the country, but particularly in the manufacturing
districts, that it is the duty of this House to make instant inquiry into
the cause and extent of such distress, and devise means to remedy it; and,
at all events, to vote no supply of money until such inquiry be
made."--(Hear, hear.)

This motion was negatived by 149 to 41; and it is to this negative that,
according to the avowal of our veracious contemporary, we owe the radiant
looks that have lighted up the streets of London for the past few days. In
the same sense of the writer, but in the better words of the chorus of
_Tom Thumb_--

  "Nature seemed to wear a universal grin!"

It being always premised and settled that the term nature only comprehends
the people with sleek coats and full stomachs. Nature abhors a
vacuum,--therefore has nought to do with empty bellies. Happy are the men
whose fate, or better philosophy, has kept them from the turnips and the
heather--fortunate mortals, who, banned from the murder of partridges and
grouse, have for the last few days of our contemporary, been dwellers in
merry London! What exulting faces! What crowds of well-dressed, well-fed
_Malvolios_, "smiling" at one another, though not cross-gartered! To a man
prone to ponder on that many-leaved, that scribbled, blurred and blotted
volume, the human face,--that mysterious tome printed with care, with
cunning and remorse,--that thing of lies, and miseries, and hypocritic
gladness,--that volume, stained with tears, and scribbled over and over
with daily wants, and daily sufferings, and daily meannesses;--to such a
reader who, from the hieroglyphic lines of feigned content, can translate
the haggard spirit and the pining heart,--to such a man too often
depressed and sickened by the contemplation of the carnivorous faces
thronging the streets of London--faces that look as if they deemed the
stream of all human happiness flowed only from the Mint,--to such a man,
how great the satisfaction, how surpassing the enjoyment of these "last
few days!" As with the Thane of Cawdor, every man's face has been a book;
but, alas! luckier than _Macbeth_, that book has been--_Joe Miller!_

Every well-dressed gentleman has smiled, but then the source of his
satisfaction has been the rags fluttering on the human carcases in the
manufacturing districts. Every well-to-do artisan has wended his way along
the streets showing his teeth, but then at his own sweet will he can
employ those favoured instruments on roast or boiled: hence his smile for
those who, gifted with the like weapons, bear them as men bear court
swords, for ornament, not use. Alas! the smirk of the well-dressed may be
struck into blank astonishment by the fluttering of rags--by a standard of
tatters borne by a famine-maddened myriad; the teeth of the dragon want
may be sown, and the growth may, as of old, be armed men.

Yet can we wonder at the jocoseness of those arrayed in lawn and
broad-cloth--can we marvel at the simper of the artisan fresh from his
beef and pudding, solaced with tobacco and porter? Surely not; for the
smile breaks under the highest patronage; nay, even broad grins would have
the noblest warranty, for his Grace the Duke of Wellington has pronounced
rags to be the livery only of wilful idleness--has stamped on the
withering brow of destitution the brand of the drunkard. Therefore, clap
your hands to your pulpy sides, oh well-dressed, well-to-do London, and
disdaining the pettiness of a simper, laugh an ogre's laugh at the rags of
Manchester--grin like a tickled Polyphemus at the hunger of Bolton!

Our babbling, anile friend, in the very looseness of her prating has let
out the truth. Or rather--a common custom with her--she has talked in her
sleep. Her very weakness has, however, given a point to her revelation.

  "Diamonds dart their brightest lustre,
  _from a palsy-shaken head_!"

In the midst of her snores she has but revealed the plot entered into
between those most respectable conspirators, Broad Cloth and Beef, against
those old offenders, those incorrigible miscreants, Rags and Want! The
confederacy is, to be sure, older than the crucified thieves; but then it
has not been so undisguisedly avowed. Broad Cloth has, on the contrary,
affected a sympathy with tatters, though with a constancy of purpose has
refused an ell from its trailing superfluity to solace the wretchedness;
the tears of Beef dropt on the lank abdomen of Starvation, are ancient as
post diluvian crocodiles.--but it has spared no morsel to the object of
its hypocritic sorrow. Now, however, even the decency of deceit is to be
dropt, and Broad Cloth is to make sport with the nakedness of the land,
and merry Beef is to roar like the bulls of Bashan at the agonies of
famine!

As the winter approaches we are promised increasing sources of amusement
from the manufacturing districts. What sunny faces will break though the
fogs of November--what giggling will drown the cutting blasts of January!
Eschewing the wise relaxation of pantomimes, we shall be taught to consult
the commercial reports in the newspapers as the highest and fullest source
of salutary laughter. How we shall simper when mills are stopped--how crow
with laughter when whole factories are silent and deserted! How
reader--(for we acknowledge none who are not well-dressed and
well-to-do)--how you will scream with joy when banks break!--and how
consult the list of bankrupts as the very spirit and essence of the most
consummate fun. Insolvency shall henceforth be synonymous with
repartee--and compositions with creditors practical _bons mots_.

Oh! reader--(but mind, you _must_, we say, to be our reader, be
well-dressed and well-to-do; for though we owe the very paper beneath your
eye to rags, we trust we are sufficiently in the mode to laugh
contemptuously at such abominations)--oh! reader, quit your lighter
recreations; seek not for merriment in fictitious humour; it is a poor,
unsatisfactory diet, weak and watery; but find substantial drollery from
the fluttering of tatters--laugh, and with the crowing joy, grow sleek and
lusty at the writhings and the lamentations of want!

We have, however, a recent benevolent instance of the political and social
power of dress--an instance gathered from the Court of Spain. The organ
(or rather barrel-organ of Toryism, for it has only a set number of tunes)
which played our opening quotation, also grinds the following:--

"The Regent Espartero, and the tutor Arguelles, are doing all in their
power to keep the young Queen and the Infanta _in good humour_,
encouraging the Princesses in many little indulgences suitable to their
age and sex, _especially in the article of dress_, in which their royal
mother was more than inattentive. _This line of conduct_, coupled with the
expected arrival of the Infant, Don Francisco de Paula and his family, who
are to be received with every mark of respect, indicates that the present
rulers of Spain, aware of their critical situation, wish to strengthen
themselves by the support of the great majority of the royal family."

Thus, if the royal family of Spain have an excess of courtesy and
benevolence towards the people, such blessings will drop upon them from
the fringed petticoats of the little sovereign. Thus curiously considered,
may we not trace a bounteous political measure to the lace veil of a
Queen, and find a great national benefit in the toe of a slipper?

Happy Spaniards! Give fine clothes to _your_ rulers, and they yearn with
benevolence towards the donors. _They_ do not walk about the streets of
Madrid, smiling in the strength of their wardrobe at the nakedness of
those who have subscribed the bravery. Oh, ye "well-dressed gentlemen,"
and oh, ye "well-to-do artisans!"--be instructed by the new petticoats of
Queen Isabella, and smile no at rags and famine.

       *       *       *       *       *


PUNCH'S PENCILLINGS.--No. XII.


[Illustration: THE TORY PEACOCKS AND THE FINSBURY DAW.]

       *       *       *       *       *


TRANSACTIONS OF THE GEOLOGICAL SOCIETY OF HOOKHAM-CUM-SNIVEY.

There is not a more interesting science than geology, which, as our
readers are aware, treats principally of mud and minerals. The association
at Hookham-cum-Snivey has been very active during the summer, and may be
said to have been up to its knees in dirt and filth, gravel and gypsum,
coal, clay and conglomerate, for a very considerable period.

It having been determined to open a sewer where the old Hookham-road meets
with the ancient Roman footpath at Snivey, the junction of which gives
name to the modern town, the Geological Association passed a strong
resolution, in which it was asserted, that the opportunity had at length
arrived for solving the great doubt that had long perplexed the minds of
the inhabitants as to whether the soil in the neighbourhood was
crustaceous or carboniferous. The _crusta_ceous party had been long
triumphing in the fact, that a mouldy piece of bread had been found at two
feet below the surface, when digging for the foundation of a swing erected
in a garden in the neighbourhood; but the _carboni_ferous enthusiasts had
been thrown into ecstacies, by the sexton having come upon a regular
_strata_ of undoubted cinders, in clearing out a piece of ground at the
back of the parson's residence. Some evil-disposed persons had the malice
to say that the spot had been formerly the site of a subsequently-filled-up
dusthole; but the _crusta_ceous party, depending as they did upon a single
piece of bread--_all crumb_ too--however genuine, could not be said to
have so much to go upon as the _carboni_ferous section, with their heap of
cinders, the latter being large in quantity, though of doubtful authority.

However, the opening of the sewer was looked forward to with intense
interest, as being calculated to decide the great question, and all the
principal geologists were on the spot several hours before operations
commenced, for the purpose of inspecting the surface of the ground before
it was disturbed by the spade and pickaxe of the labourer.

It was found that the earth consisted of an outer coat of dust, amongst
which were several stones, varying in size, with here and there a bone
picked exceedingly clean, and evidently belonging to a sheep; all of which
facts gave promise of most gratifying results to the true lover of
geology. At length the labourer came in sight, and was greeted with loud
cheers from the crustaceous party, which were ironically echoed by the
disciples of the carboniferous school, and a most significant "hear,
hear," proceeded from an active partisan of the latter class, when the
first stroke of the pickaxe proclaimed the commencement of an operation
upon which so much was known to depend for the interests of geology. The
work had proceeded for some time amid breathless interest, interrupted
only by sneers, cheers, jeers, and cries of "Oh, oh!" or "No, no!" As the
throwing up of a shovelful of earth excited the hopes of one party, or the
fears of the other, when a hard substance was struck upon, which caused a
thrilling sensation among the bystanders. The pressure of the geologists,
all eager to inspect the object that had created so much curiosity, could
hardly be restrained, and the president was thrown, with great violence,
into the hole that had been dug, from which he was pulled with
extraordinary strength of body, and presence of mind, by the honorary
treasurer.

The hard substance was found to consist of a piece of iron, of which it
appeared a vein, or rather an artery, ran both backwards and forwards from
the spot where it was first discovered. The confusion was at its height,
for it was supposed a mine had been discovered, and a long altercation
ensued; the town-clerk claiming it in the name of the lord of the manor,
while the beadle, with a confused idea about mines being royal property,
leaped into the hole, and, in the Queen's name, took possession of
everything. A desperate struggle ensued, in which several geologists were
laid straight upon the _strata_, and were converted into secondary
deposits on the surface of the earth; when the lamplighter, coming by,
recognised the hard iron substance as the large main of the Equitable
Company. It became therefore necessary to relinquish any further
investigation on the spot originally chosen, and the matter was postponed
to another day, so that the great crustaceous and carboniferous question
remains exactly where it did, to the great injury of the harmony and good
feeling that has never yet prevailed, though it is hoped it some time or
other may prevail, among the inhabitants.

But though public investigation of geological truth is for a time at a
stand-still, we are glad to be able to record the following remarkable
instance of private enterprise:--

A very active member of the association--the indefatigable Mr.
Grubemup--determined to leave no stone unturned for the purpose of making
observations, went out, attended by a single assistant, and made a
desperate attempt to turn the mile-stone in the Kensington-road, in the
hope of finding some geological facts at the bottom of it. After several
hours' labour before day-break, to avoid interruption from the police, he
succeeded in introducing the point of a pickaxe beneath the base of the
stone; and eventually he had the satisfaction of removing it from its
position, when he made the following geological observations:--He found a
primary deposit of dark soil, and, on putting his spectacles to his eyes,
he distinctly detected a common worm in a state of high salubrity. This
clearly proved to him that there must formerly have been a direct
communication between Hookham-cum-Snivey and the town of Kensington, for
the worm found beneath the milestone exactly resembled one now in the
Hookham-cum-Snivey Museum, and which is known as the _vermis communis_, or
earth-worm, and which has always excited considerable interest among the
various visitors. Mr. Grubemup, encouraged by this highly satisfactory
result, proceeded to scratch up with his thumb-nail a portion of the soil,
and his geological enterprise was speedily rewarded by a fossil of the
most interesting character. Upon close inspection it proved to be a highly
crystallised rat's-tail, from which the geologist inferred that there were
rats on the Kensington-road at a much earlier period than milestones. We
have not heard that the ingenious gentleman carried his examination
further, but in the present state of geology, any contribution to the
science, however small, will be thankfully received by the
knowledge-loving community.

       *       *       *       *       *


LAYS OF THE "BEAU MONDE."

BY THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING POST.

  I saw at Lord George's _rout_,
    Amid a blaze of _ton_;
  And such a _tournure_ ne'er "came out"
  For Maradon Carson!
    For who that mark'd that sylph-like grace
  That full Canova hip,
    That robe of rich Chantilly lace,
  That faultless satin slip,
    Could doubt that she would be _the belle_
  To make a thousand waistcoats swell?

    I saw her seated by my lord,
  As _joli comme un ange_;
    She took some _pate perigord_.
  And after that _blanc mange_:
    A glass of Moyse's pink champagne
  Lent lustre to _ses eux_.
    And then--I heard a Grisian strain--
  It was her sweet _adieux_;
    And I--my friend the butler sought,
    To slake with stout each burning thought.

       *       *       *       *       *


METROPOLITAN IMPROVEMENTS.

It is at length decided that Aldgate pump is to be painted, but the vestry
have not yet determined what the colour is to be. It is thought, to suit
the diversity of opinions in the parish cabinet, that it will be painted
in a harlequin pattern.

It is seriously contemplated to attempt the removal of the ancient "Hot
Codlings" stand from the west-end of Temple Bar. The old woman who at
present occupies the premises is resolved to resist to the utmost so
unjust an aggression.

The Corporation of the City of London have, in the most liberal manner,
given a plot of ground, eighteen by thirteen and a half-inches, for the
erection of a pickled whilks and pennywinkle establishment, at the corner
of Newgate-street and the Old Bailey. This will be a valuable boon to the
Blue-coat boys, and will tend to cause a brisk influx of loose coppers to
this hitherto much-neglected spot.

The disgraceful state of the gutter-grating in Little Distaff-lane has, at
length, awakened the attention of the parish authorities. For several days
past it has been choked by an accumulation of rubbish, but we are now
enabled, on good authority, to state that the parish-beadle has been
directed to poke it with his staff, which it is hoped will have the effect
of removing the obstruction.

The Commissioners of Woods and Forests have ordered plans and estimates to
be laid before them for the erection of a duck-house on the island of the
pond in St. James's Park.

It has been decided that the exhibition of fancy paper on the boards of
the enclosure of Trafalgar-square is to continue open to the public till
further notice.

By a recent Act of Parliament, foot passengers crossing Blackfriars-bridge
are allowed to walk on whichever side of it they like best.

       *       *       *       *       *


ERRATA IN THE "TIMES."

For "Sir James Graham denied that he ever _changed_ his friends or his
principles," read "_hanged_ his friends or his principles."

For "Lord John Russell said that he had strenuously endeavoured to keep
_pace_ with the march of Reform," read "keep _place_ with the march of
Reform."

For "though Sir Robert Peel is the ostensible _head_, the Duke of
Wellington holds the _reins_ of the present administration," read "the
Duke of Wellington holds the _brains_ of the present administration."

For "Colonel Sibthorp said he despised the man who suffered himself be
made the _tool_ of a party," read "the _fool_ of a party."

       *       *       *       *       *


THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE LONDON MEDICAL STUDENT

[Illustration: O]Our lively neighbours on the opposite side of the _Pas de
Calais_ (as they are pleased, in a spirit of patriotic appropriation, to
translate the Straits of Dovor), have lately shot off a flight of small
literary rockets about Paris, which have exploded joyously in every
direction, producing all sorts of fun and merriment, termed _Les
Physiologies_--a series of graphic sketches, embodying various every-day
types of characters moving in the French capital. In the same spirit we
beg to bring forward the following papers, with the hope that they will
meet with an equally favourable reception.


1. THE INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE.

We are about to discuss a subject as critical and important to take up as
the abdominal aorta; for should we offend the class we are about to
portray, there are fifteen hundred medical students, arrived this week in
London, ripe and ready to avenge themselves upon our devoted cranium,
which, although hardened throughout its ligneous formation by many blows,
would not be proof against their united efforts. And we scarcely know how
or where to begin. The instincts and different phases, under which this
interesting race appears, are so numerous, that far from complaining of
the paucity of materials we have to work upon, we are overwhelmed by
mental suggestions, and rapidly-dissolving views, of the various classes
from Guy's to the London University, from St. George's to the London
Hospital, perpetually crowding upon our brains (if we have any), and
rendering our ideas as completely muddled as those of a "new man" who has,
for the first week of October, attended every single lecture in the day,
from the commencement of chemistry, at nine in the morning, to the close
of surgery, at eight in the evening. Lecture! auspicious word! we have a
beginning prompted by the mere sound. We will address you, medical
students, according to the style you are most accustomed to.

Gentlemen,--Your attention is to be this morning directed to an important
part of your course on physiology, which your various professors, at two
o'clock on Saturday afternoon, will separately tell you is derived from
two Greek words, so that we have no occasion to explain its meaning at
present. Magendie, Müller, Mayo, Millengen, and various other M's, have
written works upon physiology, affecting the human race generally; you are
now requested to listen to the demonstration of one species in
particular--the Medical Student of London.

Lay aside your deeper studies, then, and turn for a while to our lighter
sketches; forget the globules of the blood in the contemplation of red
billiard balls; supplant the _tunica arachnoidea_ of the brain by a
gossamer hat--the _rete mucosum_ of the skin by a pea-jacket; the vital
fluid by a pot of half-and-half. Call into play the flexor muscles of your
arms with boxing-gloves and single-sticks; examine the secreting glands in
the shape of kidneys and sweetbreads; demonstrate other theories connected
with the human economy in an equally analogous and pleasant manner; lay
aside your crib Celsus and Steggall's Manual for our own more enticing
pages, and find your various habits therein reflected upon paper, with a
truth to nature only exceeded by the artificial man of the same material
in the Museum of King's College. Assume for a time all this joyousness.
PUNCH has entered as a pupil at a medical school (he is not at liberty to
say which), on purpose to note your propensities, and requests you for a
short period to look upon him as one of your own lot. His course will
commence next week, and "The New Man" will be the subject.

[Illustration]

       *       *       *       *       *


MICHAELMAS DAY

Every one knows that about this time of the year geese are in their prime,
and are particularly good when stuffed with sage; which accounts for the
fact, that Sibthorp has made some sage remarks, so that he may not lose by
comparison with the "foolish birds," with whom he feels a natural
sympathy.

We have never been able to discover the connexion between geese and
Michaelmas. There is a reason for associating ducks with Midsummer: we can
understand the meaning of poultry at Christmas, for _birds_ are
appropriate to a period when every one sends in _his bill_; but why poor
St. Michael should be so degradingly associated with a goose is beyond our
comprehension, and baffles our ingenuity. If St. Michael had been a
tailor, or an actor, or an author, we could have understood how _goose_
might have applied to him; but as he was neither one nor the other, we
really are at a loss to conceive why a goose should have become so
intimately associated with his name and character.

Among other curious incidents, it may be remarked that, with an
instinctive dread of _goose_, the redoubtable _Martinuzzi_ drew in his
horns, just on the eve of Michaelmas, and the _Syncretics_ have just shut
up shop in time to avoid the "_compliments of the season_" that they had
every right and every reason to anticipate would be bestowed, if not with
a "liberal hand," at least with "a lavish mouth," by their audience.

It must be remembered by all the geese against whom PUNCH thinks proper to
indulge his wit, that at this season of the year they must expect to be
roasted. Upon the whole, however, we have a high respect for "the foolish
bird," and when it is remembered that the geese saved Rome, we do not
think we are wrong in suggesting the possibility of England being yet
saved by Lord Coventry, or any other cackler in either house of
Parliament.

       *       *       *       *       *


"LAND SHARKS AND SEA GULLS."

Admiral Napier observed that "retired lawyers got better paid than retired
admirals." A gross injustice, as their vocations bear an extraordinary
similarity; par example--both are _attachés_ of the Fleet: in an action,
both know the necessity of being bailed out to prevent swamping. One
service is distinguished by its "davits," the other by its "affidavits;"
and they are mutually and equally admired for, and known by, their craft.
The only difference between them being, that the lawyer serves "two
masters"--the admiral, invariably, three masters. If the same remark
applies to the members of the army-list, as well as to those of the navy
and law, we must say that it is an extremely shabby method of

[Illustration: "RELIEVING GUARD."]

       *       *       *       *       *


LIST OF OUTRAGES.

The following list of outrages, recently perpetrated in the vicinity of a
notoriously bad house near Westminster Abbey, has not appeared in any of
the daily papers:--

LORD MELBOURNE--frightfully beaten, and turned out of his house by a gang
of Peelites.

LORD JOHN RUSSELL--struck on the head by a large majority, and flung into
a quandary.

LORD COTTENHAM--tripped up by a well-known member of the swell mob, and
robbed of his seals.

MR. ROEBUCK--stripped and treated with barbarous inhumanity by a notorious
bruiser named the _Times_. The unfortunate gentleman lies to the present
moment _speechless_ from the injuries he has sustained.

LORD NORMANBY--stabbed with some sharp instrument, supposed to be Lord
Stanley's tongue.

LORD MORPETH--struck in the dark by an original idea, from the effects of
which he has not yet recovered.

       *       *       *       *       *


ROOT AND BRANCH.

Roebuck, in complaining of the stigmas cast by the _Times_ upon his
pedigree, and vehemently insisting on the character of his family tree,
was kindly assisted by Tom Duncombe, who declared the genus indisputable,
as nobody could look in Roebuck's face without perceiving his family tree
must have been the "plane-tree."

       *       *       *       *       *


SONGS FOR THE SENTIMENTAL.--NO. 8.


  You say I have forgot the vow
    I breath'd in days long past;
  But had I faithful been, that thou
    Hadst loved me to the last.
  _Without_ me, e'en a throne thou'dst scorn--
    _With_ me, contented beg!
  False maid! 'tis not that I'm forsworn,--
    The boot's on t'other leg.

  Amidst the revel thou wast gay,
    The blithest with the song!
  Though thou believ'dst me far away,
    An exile at Boulogne.
  'Twas then, and not till then, my heart
    To love thee did refuse;
  My vows became (false that thou art!)--
    Another pair of shoes!

       *       *       *       *       *


AFFAIRS IN CHINA.

PRIVATE LETTER FROM A YOUNG OFFICER AT THE ENGLISH FACTORY, CANTON, TO HIS
BROTHER IN ENGLAND.

DEAR TOM,--Everything is going on gloriously--the British arms are
triumphant--and we now only require the Emperor of China's consent to our
taking possession of his territory, which I am sorry to say there is at
present no likelihood of obtaining. However, there is little doubt, if we
be not all swept off by ague and cholera, that we shall be able to
maintain our present position a few months longer. Our situation here
would be very comfortable if we had anything to eat, except bad beef and
worse biscuit; these, however, are but trifling inconveniences; and though
we have no fresh meat, we have plenty of fish in the river. One of our men
caught a fine one the other day, which was bought and cooked for the
officers' mess, by which means we were all nearly destroyed--the fish
unfortunately happening to be of a poisonous nature; in consequence of
which a general order was issued the next day, forbidding the troops to
catch or eat any more fish. The country around the factory is beautiful;
but we deem it prudent to keep within the walls, as the Chinese are very
expert at picking up stragglers, whom they usually strangle. Beyond this
we cannot complain of our situation; fowls are extremely abundant, but I
have not seen any, the inhabitants having carried them up the country
along with their cattle and provisions of every description. The water
here is so brackish that it is almost impossible to drink it; there are,
however some wells of delicious water in the neighbourhood, which would be
a real treasure to us if the Chinese had not poisoned them.
Notwithstanding these unavoidable privations, the courage of our troops is
indomitable; a detachment of the ----th regiment succeeded last week in
taking possession of an island in the river, nearly half an acre in
extent; it has, however, since been deemed advisable to relinquish this
important conquest, owing to the muddy nature of the soil, into which
several of our brave fellows sank to the middle, and were with difficulty
extricated. A gallant affair took place a few days ago between two English
men-of-war's boats and a Chinese market junk, which was taken after a
resolute defence on the part of the Chinaman and his wife, who kept up a
vigorous fire of pumpkins and water-melons upon our boats, until their
supply was exhausted, when they were forced to surrender to British
valour. The captured junk has since been cut up for the use of the forces.
Though this unpleasant state of affairs has interrupted all formal
intercourse between the Chinese and English, Captain Elliot has given a
succession of balls to the occupants of a small mud fort near the shore,
which I fear they did not relish, as several of them appeared exceedingly
hurt, and removed with remarkable celerity out of reach of the Captain's
civilities. Thus, instead of opening the trade, this proceeding has only
served to open the breach. The Emperor, I hear, is enraged at our
successes, and has ordered the head and tail of the mandarin, Keshin, to
be sent in pickle to the imperial court at Pekin. A new mandarin has
arrived, who has presented a chop to Captain Elliott, but I hope, where
there is so much at stake, that he will not be put off with a chop. There
is no description of tea to be had in the market now but gunpowder, which,
by the last reports, is going off briskly. Our amusements are not very
numerous, being chiefly confined to yawning and sleeping; of this latter
recreation I must confess that we enjoy but little, owing to the
mosquitos, who are remarkably active and persevering in their attacks upon
us. But with the exception of these tormenting insects, and a rather
alarming variety of centipedes, scorpions, and spiders, we have no
venomous creatures to disturb us. The weather is extremely hot, and the
advantages of the river for bathing would be very great if it were not so
full of sharks. I have much more to relate of our present cheering
prospects and enviable situation, but a ship is on the point of sailing
for England, so must conclude in haste.

Ever, dear Tom, yours,

R.B.

       *       *       *       *       *


POACHED EGOTISM.

The _Examiner_ observes, in speaking of the types of the new premier's
policy,--"The state, I am the state," said the most arrogant of French
monarchs. "The administration, I am the administration," would seem to say
Sir Robert Peel. In the speech explanatory of his views, which cannot be
likened to Wolsey's "_Ego et Rex meus_," because the importance of the
_ego_ is not impaired by any addition.--This literally amounts to a
conviction, on the part of the editor of the _Examiner_, that the
premier's expression is all in his "I."

       *       *       *       *       *


THE POLITICAL NATURALIST'S LIBRARY

CONTENTS OF THE VOLUMES ALREADY PUBLISHED.


THE SUPER-NATURAL HISTORY OF--

"HUMMING" BIRDS.--With Memoir and Portraits of Peel, Stanley and Aberdeen.

BIRDS OF THE "GAME" KIND.--Portrait and Memoir of Mr. Gully.

FISHES OF THE "PERCH" GENUS.--Biographical notices of the late Ministry.

RUMINATING ANIMALS, Vol. 1.--Contents: _Goats_, &c. Portrait of Mr. Muntz.

RUMINATING ANIMALS, Vol. 2.--Contents: Deer, Antelopes, &c. Portrait of
Mr. Roebuck.

MARSUPIALS, OR "POUCHED" ANIMALS.--With many _plates_. Portrait and Memoir
of Daniel O'Connell, Esq.

BRITISH BUTTERFLIES.--Portrait and Memoir of Sir E. Lytton Bulwer.

COMPLETION OF THE WORK.--Considerable progress has been making in the
concluding volume of the series. _Rats_, with portraits of Burdett,
Gibson, Wakley, _et genus omne_; but the subject is so vast that no
definite time can be fixed for its publication.

       *       *       *       *       *


A GREAT CARD.

MR. WAKLEY begs to inform the Lords of the Treasury, the editor of the
_Times_, and the Master of the Mint, that ever anxious to rise in the
world, he has recently been induced to undertake the sweeping of
Conservative flues, and the performance of any dirty work which his Tory
patrons may deem him worthy to perform. Certain objections having been
made as to his qualifications for a climbing boy, Mr. W. pledges himself
to undergo any course of training, to enable him to get through the
business, and to remove any apprehension of his ever becoming

[Illustration: A POTTED BLOATER.]

       *       *       *       *       *


THE POETICAL JUSTICE.

SIR PETER LAURIE, in commenting upon the late case of false imprisonment,
where two young men had been unjustifiably handcuffed by the police,
delivered himself of the following exquisite piece of rhetoric:--"He did
not think it possible that such a case of abuse could pass unnoticed as
that he had just heard. The general conduct of the police was, he
believed, good; but the instances of arbitrary conduct and overbearing
demeanour _set to flight all the ancient examples brought forward to
enrich by contrast the serious parts of the glorious genius of
Shakspeare_." We never understood or imagined there was an Anacreon among
the aldermen, a Chaucer in the common council, or a Moliere at the
Mansion-house. We have now discovered the Peter Lauriate of the City--the
poet of the Poultry. Who, in the face of the above sentence, can deny his
right to these titles, if, like ourselves, they are

[Illustration: OPEN TO CONVICTION!]

       *       *       *       *       *


THE EVIL MOST TO BE DREADED.

A clergyman, lately preaching to a country congregation, used the
following persuasive arguments against the vice of swearing:--"Oh, my
brethren, avoid this practice, for it is a great sin, and, what is more,
it is _ungenteel_!"

       *       *       *       *       *


PUNCH'S THEATRE.

WHAT WILL THE WORLD SAY?

The family of the "Sponges" distributes itself over the entire face of
society--its members are familiar with almost every knocker, and with
nearly everybody's dinner-hour. They not unfrequently come in with the
eggs, and only go out with the last glass of negus. They seem to possess
the power of ubiquity; for, go where you will, your own especial sponge
(and everybody with more than two hundred a-year has one), is sure to
present himself. He is ready for anything, especially where eating, love,
duelling, or drinking, is concerned. To oblige you, he will breakfast at
supper-time, or sup at breakfast-time; he will drink any given quantity,
at any time, and will carry any number of declarations of love to any
number of ladies, or of challenges to whole armies of rivals: thus far he
is useful; for he is obliging, and will do anything--but pay.

When he has absorbed all the moisture his victims are able to supply, he
may be seen walking about in moody solitude in the parks, where he sponges
upon the ducks, and owes for the use of the chairs. In this dry and
destitute condition, behold the sponge of the Covent-Garden
Comedy--_Captain Tarradiddle_. He is in St. James' Park; for, possessing
imaginary rather than substantial claims to military rank, he flits about
the Horse-Guards to keep up his character. A person is already upon the
stage, for whom you instinctively shudder--you perceive, at once, that he
is "in" for dinner, wine, theatre, and supper--you pity him; you see the
sponge, speciously, but surely, fasten himself upon his victim like a
vampire. _Mr. Pye Hilary_, being a barrister and a man of the world,
resigns himself, however, to his fate. As to shaking off his leech, he
knows that to be impossible; and he determines to make what use of him he
can. There is a fine opportunity, for _Mr. Pye Hilary_ is in love, in
despair, and in waiting: he expects his mistress's abigail; in negociating
with whom, he conceives _Tarradiddle_ will be a valuable assistant. _Mrs.
Tattle_ arrives. Preliminaries having been duly settled, articles
offensive and defensive are entered into, to carry out a plan by which the
lover shall gain an interview with the mistress; and the treaty is
ratified by a liberal donation, which the _Captain_ makes to the maid out
of his friend's purse. The servant is satisfied, and goes off in the
utmost agitation, for _Miss Mayley_ and her guardian are coming; and she
dreads being caught in the fact of bribery. _Mr. Hilary_ trembles; so does
the young lady, when she appears; and the agitation of all parties is only
put an end to by the fall of the act-drop.

If any class of her Majesty's subjects are more miserable than another, it
is that of gentlemen's servants. One of these oppressed persons is
revealed to us in the next act. Poor fellow! he has nothing to do but to
sit in the hall, and nothing to amuse him but the newspaper. But his
misfortunes do not end here: as if to add insult to injury, the family
governess presumes to upbraid him, and actually insists upon his taking a
letter to the post. _Mr. Nibble_ declines performing so undignified a
service, in the most footman-like terms; but unfortunately, as it
generally happens, in families where there are pretty governesses and
gallant sons, _Miss de Vere_ has a protector in the _Hon. Charles
Norwold_, who overhears her unreasonable demand, and with a degree of
injustice enough to make the entire livery of London rave with
indignation, inflicts upon his father's especial livery, and _Nibble's_
illustrious person, a severe caning. The consequence of this "strike" is,
that _Nibble_ gives warning, _Lord_ and _Lady Norwold_ are paralysed at
this important resignation; for by it they discover that a secret
coalition has taken place between their son and the governess--they are
man and wife! Good heavens! the heir of all the Norwolds marry a teacher,
who has nothing to recommend her but virtue, talent, and beauty!
Monstrous!--"What will the world say?"

The treaty formed between _Mistress Tattle_ and _Mr. Pye Hilary_ is in the
next act being acted upon. We behold _Captain Tarradiddle_, as one of the
high contracting parties' ambassador, taking lodgings in a house exactly
opposite to that in which _Miss Mayley_ resides. Of course nothing so
natural as that the Captain should indulge his friend with a visit for a
few days, or, if possible, for a few weeks. It is also natural that the
host, under the circumstances, should wish to know something of the birth,
parentage, and education of his guest, of which, though an old
acquaintance; he is, as yet, entirely ignorant. Now, if it be possible to
affront a real sponge (but there is nothing more difficult), such
inquiries are likely to produce that happy consummation. _Tarradiddle_,
however, gets over the difficulty with the tact peculiar to his class, and
is fortunately interrupted by the announcement that _Tattle_ is in the
parlour, duly keeping her agreement, by bringing her mistress's favourite
canary, which, having flown away quite by accident, under her guidance,
has chosen to perch in _Hilary's_ new lodging, on purpose to give him the
opportunity of returning it, and of obtaining an interview with _Miss
Mayley_. The expedient succeeds in the next scene; the lover bows and
stammers--as lovers do at first interviews--the lady is polite but
dignified, and _Tarradiddle_, who has been angling for an invitation, has
his hopes entirely put to flight by the entrance of the lady's guardian,
_Mr. Warner_, who very promptly cuts matters short by ringing the bell and
saying "Good evening," in that tone of voice which always intimates a
desire for a good riddance. This hint is too broad ever to be mistaken; so
the sponge and his victim back out.

_Mr. Warner_ is a merchant, and all merchants in plays are the "noblest
characters the world can boast," and very rich. Thus it has happened that
_Warner_ has, through a money-agent, one _Grub_, been enabled to lend, at
various times, large sums of money, to _Lady Norwold_--her ladyship being
one of those who, dreading "what will the world say?" is by no means an
economist, and prefers "ruin to retrenchment." As security for these
loans, the lady deposits her jewels, suite by suite, till the great object
of all _Warner's_ advances gets into his possession--namely, a bracelet,
which is a revered relic of the Norwold family. So far _Warner_, in spite
of a troublesome ward, and his late visitors, is happy; but he soon
receives a letter, which puts his happiness to flight. His daughter, who
has been on a visit in Paris, became, he now learns, united some months
before, to _Charles Norwold_, and a governess in his father's family. By
further inquiries, he learns that the son is discarded, and is, with his
wife, consigned to beggary, for fear of--"what will the world say?"

The fourth act exhibits one of the scenes of human life hitherto veiled
from the eyes of the most prying--a genuine specimen of the sponge
species--at home! Actually living under a roof that he calls his own; in
company with a wife who is certainly nobody else's. She is
ironing--_Tarradiddle_ is smoking, and, like all smokers, philosophising.
Here we learn the _Honourable Charles Norwold_ and his wife have taken
lodgings; hither they are pursued by _Hilary_, who has managed to
ingratiate himself with _Warner_, and undertaken to trace the merchant's
lost daughter; here, to _Pye's_ astonishment, he finds his friend and
sponge. Some banter ensues, not always agreeable to the Captain, but all
ends very pleasantly by the entrance of _Warner_, who discovers his
daughter, and becomes a father-in-law with a good grace.

The denouement is soon told:--_Warner_, having received his daughter and
her husband, gives a party at which _Lady_, and afterwards _Lord Norwold_,
are present. Here Warner's anxiety to obtain the bracelet is explained. He
reminds his lordship that he once accused his elder brother of stealing
that very bauble; and the consequence was, that the accused disappeared,
and was never after heard of. _Warner_ avows himself to be that brother,
but declines disturbing the rights or property of his lordship, if he will
again receive his son. This is, of course, done. _Hilary_ jokes himself
into _Miss Mayley's_ good graces, and _Tarradiddle_, in all the glories of
a brown coat, and an outrageously fine waistcoat, enters to make the scene
complete, and to help to speak the tag, in which all the characters have a
hand; Mrs. Glover ending by making a propitiatory appeal to the audience
in favour of the author, who ought to be very grateful to her for the
captivating tones in which she asked for an affirmative answer to the
question--

  "What will the world say?"

Circumstances prevent us from giving any opinion whatever, except upon the
scenery, the appointments, and the acting. The first is beautiful--the
second appropriate and splendid--the last natural, pointed, and in good
taste.

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SIBTHORPIANA.

A clergyman was explaining to the gallant officer the meaning of the
phrase "born again;" but it was quite unintelligible to Sib., who remarked
that he knew no one who could _bear_ him even once.

"Do you read the notice to correspondents in PUNCH?" quoth Sib.--"I do,"
replied Hardinge, "and I wonder people should send them such
trash."--"Pooh!" retorted the punster--"Pooh! you know that wherever PUNCH
is to be found, there are always plenty of _spoons_ after it."

"It's a wonder you're not drunk," said Sibthorp to Wieland--"a great
wonder, because--do you give it up?--Because  you're _a tumbler full of
spirits_."

       *       *       *       *       *


CURIOUS AMBIGUITY.

The correspondent of a London paper, writing from Sunderland respecting
the report that Lord Howick had been fired at by some ruffian, says, with
great _naïveté_, "a gun was certainly pointed at his lordship's head, but
it is generally believed there was nothing in it."--We confess we are at a
loss to know whether the facetious writer alludes to the _gun_ or the
_head_.

       *       *       *       *       *


THE THORNY PREMIER.

A Tory evening paper tells its readers that Sir Robert Peel expects a
harassing opposition from the late ministry, but that he is prepared for
them on _all points_. This reminds us of the defensive expedient of the
hedgehog, which, conscious of its weakness, rolls itself into a ball, to
be prepared for its assailants on _all points_.

       *       *       *       *       *


TO PROFESSORS OF LANGUAGES WHO GIVE LONG CREDIT AND TAKE SMALL PAY.

Mister F. &c. &c. &c. Bayley is anxious to treat for a course of lessons
in the purest Irish. None but such as will conceal a West Indian patois
will be of the slightest use. For particulars, and cards to view, apply to
Mr. Catnach, Music and Marble Warehouse, Seven-dials.

       *       *       *       *       *