أنت هنا
قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, September 27, 1890
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
is! It is a stag! A magnificent fellow—though he appears to have only one horn. But, how odd! I believe he has seen me, and yet doesn't seem scared! Yes, he is actually approaching in the most leisurely fashion in the world. But that isn't the correct thing. In deer-stalking, I'm sure you ought to stalk the deer, not the deer stalk you. And this creature is absolutely coming down on me. Oh! I can't stand this. I shall have a shot at him. Bang! Have fired—and missed! And, by Jove, the stag doesn't seem to mind! He is coming nearer and nearer. He actually comes close to where I am kneeling, and with facetious friendliness removes my Tam o'Shanter! But, hulloah! who is this speaking? "Ha, and would ye blaze awa wi' your weepons upon poor old Epaminondas, mon!" It is an aged Highlander who is addressing me, and he has just turned out of a bye-path. He is fondling the creature's nose affectionately, and the stag seems to know him. I remark as much.
"Ha! sure he does," he replies, "Why there's nae a body doon the glen but has got a friendly word for puir Old Epaminondas. You see he's blind o' one 'ee, and he's lost one o' his antlers, and he's a wee bit lame, and all the folk here about treat him kindly, when ye thought to put that bit o' lead into him just noo, sure he was just oomin' to ye for a bit o' oatmeal cake."
I express my regret for having so nearly shot the "Favourite of the Glen" through inadvertence! I explain that I came out deerstalking, and did not expect, of course, to come across a perfectly tame and domestic stag.
"A weel, there's nae mischief done," continues my interlocutor; "but it's nae good a stalking Epaminondas, for he's just a sagacious beastie altogether."
Here we are at the Lodge. But, hulloah! what's this uproar on the lawn? A herd of deer dashing wildly over everything, flowerbeds and all, and, yes, absolutely five of them bursting into the house, through one of the drawing-room windows, while JEPSON and the two kirk Ministers emerge hurriedly, terrified, from the other. Crash! And what's that? Why, surely it can't be—but yes, I believe it is—yes, it positively is the Chief's pickaxe that has flown through the air, and just smashed through the upper panes, scattering the glass in a thousand fragments in all directions!
And thus ends my Stalking for the Present, and (probably) the Future!
BLACK SYRENS.
This is how the lovely and accomplished Miss B——ns (of ——, Portland Place) managed to defray the expenses of their Sea-side Trip, this Autumn, without anybody being any the wiser!
"O-HI-O! O-HI-HO!
THERE NEVER WAS A FINER
GIRL THAN DINAH,
DOWN BY THE OHIO!"
THE BRITISH LION AND THE GERMAN FOX; OR, A MISTAKE SOMEWHERE.
THE SEQUEL OF A FABLE.
(See "The German Fox and the British Lion," Punch, November 17, 1888.)
"When Fox with Lion hunts, one would be sorry
To say who gains—until they've shared the quarry!"
Such was the Moral
Of the first chapter of our modern Fable.
Is the co-partnership still strong and stable,
Or are there signs of quarrel
More than mere querulous quidnuncs invent
To break companionship and mar content?
Reynard has settled down into that latitude,
Pilgrim, perhaps, but certainly a Trader.
Does he not show a certain change of attitude,
Suggestive rather less of the Crusader,
Eager to earn the black-skinned bondsman's gratitude,
Than of the Bagman with his sample-box?
Ah, Master Fox!
Somehow the scallop seems to slip aside,
And that brave banner, which, with honest pride
You waved, like some commercial Quixote—verily
'Tis not to-day so valorously flaunted,
And scarce so cheerily.
You boast the pure knight-errantry so vaunted,
Some two years since,
Eh? You unfeigned Crusading zeal evince?
Whence, then, that rival banner
Which you coquet with in so cautious manner?
Hoisting it? Humph! Say, rather, just inspecting it.
But whether with intention of rejecting it,
Or temporising with the sly temptation
And making Proclamation
Of views a trifle modified, and ardour
A little cooled by thoughts of purse and larder.
Why, that's the question.
Reynard will probably resent suggestion
Of playing renegade, in the cause of Trade,
To that same Holy, Noble, New Crusade.
"Only," he pleads, "don't fume, and fuss, and worry,
The New Crusade is not a thing to hurry;
I never meant hot zealotry or haste—
Things hardly to the solid Teuton taste!"
And Leo? Well, he always had his doubts,
Yet to indulge in fierce precipitate flouts
Is not his fashion.
The Anti-Slavery zeal, with him a passion,
He knows less warmly shared by other traders;
But soi-disant Crusaders
Caught paltering with the Infidels, like traitors,
And hot enthusiast Emancipators
Who the grim Slavery-demon gently tackle,
Wink at the scourge, and dally with the shackle,
Such, though they vaunt their zeal and orthodoxy,
Seem—for philanthropists—a trifle foxy!
Réclame (Gratis).—Where is the Lessee of the Haymarket? He ought to have been in India. He was wanted there. The Daily News, last week, told us in its Morning News Columns that "at a place called Beerbhoom"—clearly the Indian spelling of Beerbohm—"there was a desirable piece of land lying waste"—the very spot for a theatre—"because it was reputed to be haunted by a malignant goddess,"—that wouldn't matter as long as the "gods" were well provided for. Then it continues, "They" (who?) "did all they could to propitiate her, setting apart a tree—." Yes; but it wasn't the right tree: of course it ought to have been a BEERBHOOM TREE. His first drama might have shown how a Buddhist priest couldn't keep a secret. Thrilling!
Woman's Happiest Hour.
(By a Sour old Cynic.)
A Yankee Journal raises wordy strife
About "the happiest hour of Woman's life."
I'll answer in less compass than a sonnet:—
"When she outshines her best friend's smartest bonnet!"
THE BRITISH LION AND THE GERMAN FOX; OR, A MISTAKE SOMEWHERE!
(Vide Cartoon, Nov. 17, 1888.)
THE PLEASURES OF GETTING UP EARLY TO GO "CUBBING."
| 1. The Meet was to be at Cropper's Gorse, 5:30. At 4:30 Thompson called for me. He said he knew the way perfectly. | 2. After we had gone a couple of miles, a steady rain came on. I |