قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, September 6, 1890
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, September 6, 1890
src="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@12393@12393-h@images@113.png" alt="The Game of Kings." tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}img"/>
THE DOCTRINE OF "HINTERLAND."
THESE THREE GENTLEMEN DO NOT PLAY THE GAME, BUT WISH TO TAKE A MORNING WALK BY THE SEA.
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
The Baron has recently been reading a new work, disinterestedly recommended to him by M. ROQUES, the French publisher and French bookseller of Bond Street, entitled L'Ame de Pierre, by GEORGES OHNET. It is a strangely fascinating story; the picturesque descriptions transport us to the very places; and the studies of life, are, specially of certain phases of French life, most interesting to an English reader. The cosmopolitan Baron DE B.W. wishes that Frenchmen, however manly they may be, were not so easily and so constantly moved to tears. This however, is only a matter of taste. What the purpose of the novel may be—for GEORGES OHNET has written this with a purpose—is not quite evident. Whether it is intended to chime in with the popular theme of hypnotism, and illustrate it in a peculiar way, or whether it is merely illustrating Hamlet's wise remark that, "There is more in heaven and earth than is dreamt of in your philosophy," the Baron is at a loss to determine. It is psychological, it is materialistic, it is idealistic, it is philosophical, it is ... French. The Vacuus Viator may have a worse companion on a long journey than L'Ame de Pierre.
Talking of materialistic, "let us," quoth the Baron, "be grateful to Mrs. DE SALIS for a bookful of 'Tempting Dishes for Small Incomes,' published by LONGMANS & Co." First of all get your small income, then purchase this book, for eighteenpence, or less with discount; or (a shorter and a cheaper way) borrow it from a friend. Let the Small Incomer cast his watery eye over Lobster cutlets, p. 19, and Lobster pancakes: let him reduce his small income to something still smaller in order to treat himself and family to a Rumpsteak à la bonne bouche, a Sausage pudding, and a Tomato curry. The sign over a Small-Income House is the picture of a Sheep's Head, usually despised as sheepish: but go to p. 28, and have a tête-à-tête (de mouton) with Mrs. DE SALIS about Sheep's head au Gratin.
Rabbit batter pudding, eh? with shalot à discrétion. How's that for high? Let the Small Incomer get some dariole tins, mushrooms, chives, rabbits, tripe, onions, oil, ducks, eggs, and with egg kromeskies he'll dine like a millionnaire, and be able to appreciate a real epigram of Lamb (not CHARLES) and Peas. Don't let the Man with a Small Income be afraid of trying Un Fritot de Cervelle de Veau, simply because of the name, which might do honour to the menu of a LUCULLUS. "Blanch the Brains" for this dish—delicious!—"and fry till a nice golden colour." Beautiful! Nice golden colour like dear BLANCHE's hair: only often that's a BLANCHE without brains. And now your attention, my Small Incomer, to Eggs à la Bonne Femme. This work ought to be arranged as a catechism: in fact all cookery books, all receipt books, should be in the form of Question and Answer.
Question.—Now, Sir, how would you do Eggs à la Bonne Femme?
Perhaps this query might be preceded by general information as to who the particular "bonne femme" (for she must have been a very particular bonne femme) was to whom so many dishes are dedicated. [In the Scotch McCookery books, Broth o' the gude-wife would be a national name.]
Answer.—To make Eggs à la Bonne Femme, Mrs. DE SALIS says, "Get as many eggs as there are guests (they should all be the same size)—" Now this is a difficulty. It is not an easy matter to assemble round your table a party of guests "all the same size:" still more difficult is it to get together a lot of eggs all the same size as the guests. But, when this has been got over, read the remainder at p. 55, and then, as Squeers's pupils used to have to do, go and reduce the teaching to practice.
The receipt for Potatoes à la Lyonnaise begins with, "Mince an onion, and fry it in hot butter"—O rare! Why do more? Who wants potatoes after this? And, when you've had quite enough of it, smoke a pipe, drink a glass of whiskey-and-water, go to an evening party, and then, if you won't be one of the most remarkable advertisements for cette bonne femme Madame DE SALIS, why I don't live in Baronion Halls, and my name's no longer
THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.
P.S.—So many persons have sent in touching requests to the Baron only to notice their books with one little word, that his library table groans under their weight. To about a hundred of them that one little word might be "Bosh!"—but even then they'd be pleased.
THE NEW STOCKING.
[The CHANCELLOR of the EXCHEQUER has announced that the Treasury have decided to enable the small investor in Consols, upon a written request to the Bank of England, to have his dividends re-invested as they arise, and thus automatically accumulated without further trouble on his part.—Times.]
Oh, it was the old Lady of Threadneedle Street,
And she held up her Stocking (ne'er used for her feet),
And she ups, and says she, "I've an excellent notion;
Leastways, 'tis one borrowed from COHEN by GOSCHEN;
Which nobody can deny!
"The cash that you put in my Stocking, my dears,
Will grow by degrees, if you leave it for years.
By your dividends? Ah! you draw them, girls and boys,
And spend 'em, the Times says, in sweets and in toys;
Which nobody can deny!
"How very much better to let 'em remain;
Re-invest 'em, in fact! An original brain
Has hit on that capital notion, at length,
And I'm game for to back him with all my old strength,
Which nobody can deny!
"Leave your dividends in my—suppose we say hose—
And the cash, snowball-like, gathers fast as it goes.
So my—Stocking (I must use the word) will be seen,
The latest and best Automatic Machine,
Which nobody can deny!
"Think, children, of Ac-cu-mu-la-tive Con-sols!
Much better than bull's eyes, and peg-tops, and dolls!
Yes, this is the notion, exceedingly knowin',
Which GOSCHEN, the Chancellor, borrows from COHEN,
Which nobody can deny!
"To the Nation friend COHEN's idea's a great gift;
It should lend such a "vigorous impulse to thrift;"
Leave your coin in my Stocking—in time it will double,
Without giving you, what a Briton hates, Trouble!
Which nobody can deny!
"Then think of the saving in potions and pills,
And the fall in that very bad stock—Doctor's Bills—
When your Dividends no longer spoil girls and boys
With per-ni-ci-ous sweets, and with re-dun-dant toys,
Which nobody can deny!
"So, dear Little Investors, I trust you'll come flocking,
Like bees to the hive, to my last style of Stocking,
My new, automatic, self-mending, smart hose,
In which cash, left alone, gathers fast as it goes,
Which nobody can deny!"