قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 100, June 27, 1891
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
[If the following have been omitted from the Catalogue, any visitor to Eton is entitled to call on the Provost, Fellows, and Head Master, and ask for an explanation.]
1. "I'm Monarch of all I Survey." Original copy of ballad sung by the First Eton Ten-oar.
2. Old Sketch (landscape) of the Very Cross Roads near Surley Hall. Also portrait of SURLY HALL himself.
3. "A Night on the Brocas." Old poem, supposed to be the original of the scene "on the Brocken" in Faust. A curious mistake of GOETHE's, probably due to his not having been educated at Eton.
4. The original "funny" owned by Master JOSEPH MILLER, supposed to have provided him with the notion for his first jest.
*** Also the original jest itself, bottled in high spirits, and in a fair state of preservation. As clearly as can be deciphered, the legend is something about "an Indian," "an oarsman," and "feathering a scull," or "skull."
5. A dissertation on the text that "The weakest goes to the Wall," showing how this proverb has been for many years directly contradicted, not only in theory but in practice during the Foot-ball time; it being at Eton the strongest who invariably go to "the Wall."
6. A finely illustrated poem on a bathing subject. It is called "The Passing of Arthur." The picture shows the Masters on the bank at Cuckoo Ware, while one small natational Candidate is still in a punt shiveringly awaiting the command to jump in again and swim the regulation distance. From the title, it may be taken for granted that this ARTHUR did "pass" after all. Poor little chap!
7. "Going a Cropper off the Acropperlis at Athens." Another bathing subject—unsigned.
Momus on Manipur.
Sentiment, GORST, to your stern soul,
May seem a "Simple Simon;"
But if there be a cheaper rôle,
'Tis that of twopenny Timon!
Twin MOTTO.—"You mustn't speak to the Man at the Wheel" has become a proverbial expression. It stood alone. Now it has a companion; it comes from the hand of "A Master." It is, "You must not speak to the Gentlemen of the Jury." The exceptions which prove this rule are in favour of the Judge, the Counsel, the Clerk, and the Usher.
THE LOST SERGEANT.
[In a recent case before Mr. Justice CHITTY, a doubt was expressed as to whether there was still such an officer as the Sergeant-at-Arms attending the Courts. His services had not been required since 1879. After some inquiry, however, he was discovered.]
SERGEANT-AT-ARMS, where wert thou? Haply pensioned
In some remote and solitary spot;
By lips judicial never even mentioned,
The Courts forgetting, by the Courts forgot.
Far from thy kind in some provincial village,
Didst thou devote thy hoary age to tillage?
Didst thou, perchance to lower heights declining
Lately, as busman, strike for higher pay?
Or, to the lash of fate thy soul resigning,
Wear a red cap and drive a brewer's dray?
Or didst thou on a hansom seek to fleece men,
And scorn the fair, and battle with policemen?
Or, didst thou play (as often I have seen a
Musician play in snow, or sleet, or rain)
The cornet or expansive concertina
Outside a public-house, and all in vain?
Music hath charms, but public-house men mock it,
Let loose an oath, but button up their pocket.
Or, didst thou write, as some have done, a shocker,
And sell it on the stalls of Mr. SMITH?
Or, write us versicles like FREDERICK LOCKER,
Or, ANDREW-LANG-like, talk about a myth?
Or, by thine own success amazed and staggered,
Make Zulus make thee rich, like Mr. HAGGARD?
Or, like BUCHANAN, didst thou quite exhaust in
One volume such abuse as fits a barge?
Twitter and chirp like Mr. ALFRED AUSTIN,
Or make a trifle mystically large,
Like SWINBURNE, round whose verse the fog grows stronger
Just in proportion as his lines are longer?
Whate'er thou didst, where'er thou wert, we found thee.
"Behold!" we cried, "the Sergeant reappears."
Let not our welcome overmuch astound thee,
Whom we have missed through twelve unhappy years.
Restored at length to England, home, and beauty,
Sergeant-at-Arms advance, and do thy duty!
ANCIENT "BLOCK SYSTEM" AT ETON.
The Head Master. "Here's wishing you well!"
N.B.—The rod may not be a whack-simile of the original, but our old Eton Boy says it is quite near enough, and, "in his position at the time," as he adds with truth, "it was impossible to see it."
The 'Bus Strike being at an end, the newspapers will discontinue writing de Omnibus rebus, and must employ themselves upon quibusdam aliis.
"JUST A GOIN' TO BEGIN."—The Fourth Centenary of the Foundation of Eton College is the Festival of the First Saint 'Enery.
ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
House of Commons, Monday, June 15.—RICHARD CHAMBERLAIN back to-night, after long absence. Been up the Nile, calling on PTOLEMY and PHARAOH, and visiting scenes connected with the early life of Brother JOSEPH. Much enjoyed the trip; entered House to-night full of life and energy; suddenly pulled up; hair rose; flesh crept; blood chilled. Was it true? Could it be possible? Yes; no doubt about it. There was Prince ARTHUR still lounging on Treasury Bench with MADDEN in reserve. About a score of Members present, including WINDBAG SEXTON, looking on with his irritating smile of supreme superiority, whilst SAGE of QUEEN ANNE'S GATE moved rejection of Irish Land Purchase Bill.
Brother Dick."Why!" exclaimed Brother DICK, his hair still visibly rising, "when I was here last, weeks and months ago, they were discussing Irish Land Bill; Prince ARTHUR sprawled on Treasury Bench; LABBY was denouncing the Bill as pernicious; and SEXTON, having just sat down and just going to follow, looked on with sort of pitying toleration of other people who assumed to know anything of the Bill. Do I dream, or are there visions about? Think I'll go and pinch JESSE COLLINGS, and see if I'm awake."
Yes; wide awake; no mistake about the situation; still harping on the Irish Land Bill; but, thank a merciful Providence, this is the last night. JOHN MORLEY, who never shrinks from call of duty, rises, and makes one of those formal, official, somewhat tiresome protests, recapitulating objections which everyone only too familiar with through this gruesome spring and saddened summer. Then SAGE OF QUEEN ANNE'S GATE cracks a few jokes; MORTON appears on scene; attempt made to Count Out; talk kept going through dinner hour. At eleven o'clock Prince ARTHUR rises; benches fill up; then, when everyone ready for Division, strangers in Gallery startled by mighty roar of