قراءة كتاب Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, July 2, 1892
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 102, July 2, 1892
delight. The horse who is afraid of almost anything is brought in, and begins to plunge at once, as though defying any Professor to cure him.) Now, this animal is not Vicious, he's only Nervous.
"The short Groom falling over a drum."[The Horse appears to resent this description of himself, and lashes out by way of contradiction.
Paterfamilias, in audience (who has a spoilt horse at home). Just what I always say about Tartar—it's nerves, not vice.
His Eldest Daughter. Shall you send him here to be cured, Father?
Paterf. No, my dear; quite unnecessary. When I see how it's done, I shall able to take Tartar in hand myself, I have no doubt.
The Prof. (instructively). It is natural For a Horse when frightened at anything in Front of him, To jump Backwards, and when frightened at anything Back of him, To jump Forwards. (Applause, in recognition of the accuracy and observation of this axiom.) Now I will show you my method Of correcting this Tendency by means Of my double Safety Rope and driving Rein, without Cruelty. Always Be Humane, Never causing any Pain if you Possibly can Help it. Fetch that Harness. (The short Groom trips again, but so elaborately as to be immediately recognised as the funny man of the performance, after which his awkwardness ceases to entertain. The Professor shouts, "Woa!" and, as the horse declines to accept this suggestion, emphasises it by pulling the double rope, which, being attached to the animals forelegs, promptly brings him on his knees, much to his surprise and indignation.) Never use the word "Woa!" Only when you mean your horse To stop. Woa! (horse down again, intensely humiliated.) If you mean him just To go quiet, say "Steady!" and teach him The difference Of the words. Never afterwards Deceiving him. (Paterf. makes a note of this on Tartar's account.) Steady ... Woa! (Same business repeated; horse evidently feeling that he is the victim of a practical joke, and depressed. Finally, Professor says "Woa!" without pulling, and horse thinks it better to take the hint.)
Paterf. Wonder where I could get that apparatus—just the thing for Tartar!
His Daughter. But you would have to lay down such a lot of sawdust first. And it might teach him to kneel down whenever you said "Woa!" you know, and that wouldn't do!
Paterf. Um! No. Never thought of that.
Prof. I will now introduce To his notice the Bass Drum. (The two Grooms dance about the horse, banging a drum and clashing cymbals, at which he shies consumedly. Gradually he appears to realise that his lines have fallen among lunatics, and that his wisest policy is to humour them. He does so, even to the extent of suffering the big drum to be beaten on his head with patient disgust.)
The Daughter. You might try that with Tartar, Father. You could have the dinner-gong, you know.
Paterf. (dubiously). H'm, I'm not at all sure that it would have the same effect, my dear.
Prof. (who has vaulted on the horse's back). I will now make him familiar With an umbrella. (Opens it suddenly; horse plunges.) Now, Sir, this is nothing but an umbrella—vurry good one too—it isn't going to hurt you; look at it!
[He waves it round the animal's head, and finally claps it over his eyes, the horse inspects it, and tacitly admits that he may have been prejudiced.
Daughter. It would be quite easy to do that, Father. We could hide in the shrubbery with parasols, and jump out at him.
Paterf. Not while I'm—Well, we must see what your Mother says about that. [Begins to wish he had come alone.
Prof. (introducing another horse). This animal is a confirmed Kicker. We'll give him a little tinware, just to amuse him. (Some tin pans and bells are attached to the animal's tail, but, perceiving that kicks are expected from him, his natural contrariness makes him decline to make sport for Philistines in this manner.) Hang on more tinware, boys! Some persons here may feel Disappointed that he Doesn't kick. Remember—that is not My Fault. They can't be too vicious to please me. (The Horse sees his way to score, and after bearing various trials in a spirit of Christian resignation, leaves the Arena, consoled by the reflection that no one there got much fun out of him, at all events. A Jibber is brought in; the Professor illustrates his patent method of teaching him to stand while being groomed, by tying a rope to his tail, seizing the halter in one hand and the rope in the other, and obliging the horse to perform an involuntary waltz, after which he mounts him and continues his discourse.) Now it occasionally happens To some riders that when they want To go down G. Street, their horse has a sort of idea he'd like to go up E. Street, and he generally does go up it too!
A Sister (to her Brother). ROBERT that's just like the horse you rode that last time, isn't it?
[ROBERT doesn't answer, fervently hoping that his Sister's Pretty Friend has not overheard this comment.
The Prof. Well, the way to overcome that is just to turn the animal round—so—several times till he gets dizzy and forgets where E. Street is, and then he says to himself, "I guess I'd better go wherever the gentleman wants!"
The Sister. ROBERT's horse turned round and round like that—didn't he, ROBERT? [ROBERT turns rather red and grunts.
Her Pretty Friend. And then did he go where your brother wanted him to?
The Sister. Oh yes, at last. (ROBERT breathes more freely.) Only without ROBERT. [ROBERT wonders bitterly why on earth a fellow's Sisters should try to make him out a regular muff like this.
[Two more horses are brought out, put in double harness in the light waggon, and driven round the Arena by the Professor. A steam whistle is let off over their heads, whereupon they rear and plunge, and back frantically, the Professor discoursing unperturbed from the waggon. After a few repetitions of this, the horses find the steam-whistle out as a brazen impostor, and become hardened sceptics from that moment. They despise the Comic Groom when he prances at them with a flag, and the performance of the Serious Man on the cymbals only inspires them with grave concern on his account. The bundle of coloured rags is let down suddenly on their heads, and causes them nothing but contemptuous amusement; crackers bang about their heels—and they pretend to be pleased; the Funny Groom (who is, by this time, almost unrecognisable with sawdust), gets on the near horse's back and bangs the drum on his head, but they are merely pained by his frivolity. Finally he throws an armful of old newspapers at them, and they exhibit every sign of boredom. After this, they are unharnessed and sent back to their boxes—a pair of equine Stoics who are past surprise at anything on this earth.]
The Prof. (concluding amidst loud applause). Ladies and Gentlemen, I have only To say that I don't carry any horses About with me, and that if anyone here has a vicious Or nervous animal, and likes to send him to me, I will undertake to handle him free of all charge.
Paterf. I shall have Tartar sent here—less
