قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 146, January 21, 1914
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 146, January 21, 1914
"Referring to the plea of Dr. Budge, the poet laureate, for purer English, a writer in the 'Daily Chronicle' says...."—Glasgow Evening Citizen.
Purer spelling of names is what the POET LAUREATE would really like to see.
It was very touching of The Evening News to give so much space to the distressing story of the real Duchess who could not get a seat at Olympia—(surely they might have thrown out a common person to make room for her?)—but it was tactless to go on:
"'If you will bring me a couple of chairs,' said the duchess, 'I will sit down in the gangway with the greatest pleasure.'"
It makes one wonder which of our larger duchesses it was.
THE HOUSE OF PUNCH.
[He "married a princess of the House of Punch."—Excerpt front an account of the life of a former King of Kashmir.]
Hail, Master, and accept the news I bring.
I come to make a solemn mystery clear,
One that affects you deeply; for I sing
Of a most ancient king
Nine hundred years ago in fair Kashmir,
Who yearned towards a bride, and—hear, oh hear,
Lord of the reboant nose and classic hunch—
"Married a princess of the House of Punch."
Yes, you are royal, as one might have seen.
The loftiness of your despotic sway,
Your strange aloofness and unearthly mien
(Yet regal) might have been
A full assurance of monarchic clay.
Had but the fates run kindly, at this day
Yourself should be a king of orient fame,
Chief of the princely house that bears your name.
Methinks I see you at it. I can see
A shamiana1 loftily upreared
Beneath a banyan (or banana) tree,
Whichever it may be,
Where, with bright turban and vermilion beard
(A not unfrequent sight, and very weird),
You sit at peace; a small boy, doubly bowed,
Acts as your footstool and, though stiff, is proud.
Fragrant with Champak scents the warm wind sighs
Heavily, faintly, languorously fanned
By drowsy peacock-plumes—to keep the flies
From your full nose and eyes—
Waved from behind you, where on either hand
Two silent slaves of Nubian polish stand,
Whose patent-leather visages reflect
The convex day, with mirror-like effect.
Robed in a garment of the choicest spoil
Of Persian looms, you sit apart to deal
Grace to the suppliant and reward for toil,
T'abase the proud, and boil
The malefactor, till upon you steal
Mild qualms suggestive of the mid-day meal;
And, then, what plump, what luscious fruits are those?
What goblets of what vintage? Goodness knows.
Gladly would I pursue this glowing dream,
To sing of deeds of chivalry and sport,
Of cushioned dalliance in the soft hareem
(A really splendid theme),
The pundits and tame poets at your court,
And all such pride, but I must keep it short.
Once let me off upon a thing so bright,
And I should hardly stop without a fight.
But now you stand plain Mister; and, no doubt,
Would have for choice this visioned pomp untold.
Yet, Sire, I beg you, cast such musings out;
Put not yourself about
For a vain dream. If I may make so bold,
Your present lot should keep you well consoled.
You still are great, and have, when all is done,
A fine old Eastern smack, majestic One.
The vassals of your fathers were but few
Compared with yours, who move the whole world wide;
You still can splash an oriental hue,
Red, yellow, green or blue,
Upon a fresh and various outside;
While you support—perhaps your greatest pride
High pundits for your intellectual feast,
And some tame bards, of whom I am the least.
DUM-DUM.
GIVEN AWAY.
A correspondent of The Times writes:—"The Niva, the Russian Family Herald, promises to annual subscribers, in addition to a copy of the paper every week—
The complete works of Korolenko in twenty-five volumes.
The complete works of Edmond Rostand.
The complete works of Maikof.
A literary supplement every month.
A fashion book.
A book of patterns of fancy-work designs.
A tear-off calendar for 1914,"
and adds, "Where does English or American journalistic enterprise stand beside this?"
We understand that our more enterprising contemporaries have no intention of allowing this question to remain unanswered, and the wildest rumours are afloat as to the nature of the gifts which will be offered next year to annual subscribers by various British journals.
With a view to test the accuracy of these rumours our Special Representative called yesterday upon the Editors of several leading publications, and, although much secrecy is still maintained, he has succeeded in collecting some valuable information. For instance, the report that The Nineteenth Century and After would include among its gifts the dramatic works of the MELVILLE BROS., HOW to Dance the Tango, and Sweeter than Honey, a novel with a strong love interest, lacks confirmation; nor are we in a position to assert definitely that The Spectator will present a beautiful coloured supplement, entitled "Susie's Pet Pup," and a handsome mug bearing the inscription: "A Present from Loo," though we believe that such may be the case.
On the other hand, The Times' reply to an inquiry as to whether they would present to each reader half a ton of supplements was that they had done so for some years past; and The Daily Mirror did not deny that they were considering the proposal to present a framed copy of the portrait of John Tiffinch which appeared in their issue of February 29, 1913. (Tiffinch, our readers will remember, was brother-in-law to the man who discovered the great emerald robbery.)
The British Medical Journal's list will include the works of GEORGE BERNARD SHAW and the Life of Mrs. EDDY; but the report that The Tailor and Cutter would present Wild Tribes of Central Africa is emphatically denied.
Finally, The Boxing World had not thought of offering any free-gifts, but on learning that BOSWELL had written a Life of JOHNSON seemed inclined to reconsider their decision.
"In order to counteract a tendency to stoutness which ex-President Taft is now overcoming, the Kaiser has lately undergone a systematic course of outdoor 'training.'"—Daily Mail.
This is very friendly of the KAISER, but Mr. TAFT
