قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 1, October 2, 1841
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 1, October 2, 1841
equalled only by their beauty, concentrating all their desires and their energies on a good match; or our reverend English matrons, the pride and honour of the land, employing themselves in the manufacture of fish-bone blanc-mange and mucilaginous tipsy-cakes; or our young Englishmen, our hope and our resource, spending themselves in the debasing contamination of cigars and alcohol.
CONDENSED PARLIAMENTARY REPORT ON THE MISCELLANEOUS ESTIMATES.
Vide Examiner.
- MR. WILLIAMS—objected—
- SIR T. WILDE—vindicated—
- SIR R. PEEL—doubted—
- MR. PLUMPTRE—opposed—
- MR. VILLIERS—requested—
- MR. EWART—moved—
- MR. EASTCOURT—thought—
- MR. FERRAND—complained—
- LORD JOHN RUSSELL—wished—
- MR. AGLIONBY—was of opinion—
- MR. STEWART WORTLEY—hoped—
- MR. WAKLEY—thought—
- MR. RICE—urged—
- MR. FIELDEN—regretted—
- MR. WARD—was convinced—
TAKING THE HODDS.
On a recent visit of Lord Waterford to the “Holy Land,” then to sojourn in the hostel or caravansera of the protecting Banks of that classic ground, that interesting young nobleman adopted, as the seat of his precedency, a Brobdignag hod, the private property of some descendant from one of the defunct kings of Ulster; at the close of an eloquent harangue; his lordship expressed an earnest wish that he should be able to continue
GOING IT LIKE BRICKS—
a hope instantly gratified by the stalwart proprietor, who, wildly exclaiming, “Sit aisy!” hoisted the lordly burden on his shoulders, and gave him the full benefit of a shilling fare in that most unusual vehicle.
Q.E.D.
“SIR ROBERT PEEL thinks a great deal of himself,” says the British Critic. “Yes,” asserts PUNCH, “he is just the man to trouble himself about trifles.”
ROEBUCK DEFYING THE “THUNDERER.”
Roebuck was seated in his great arm chair,
Looking as senatorial and wise
As a calf’s head, when taken in surprise;
A half-munch’d muffin did his fingers bear—
An empty egg-shell proved his meal nigh o’er.
When, lo! there came a tapping at the door:
“Come in!” he cried,
And in another minute by his side
Stood John the footboy, with the morning paper,
Wet from the press. O’er Roebuck’s cheek
There passed a momentary gleam of joy,
Which spoke, as plainly as a smile could speak,
“Your master’s speech is in that paper, boy.”
He waved his hand—the footboy left the room—
Roebuck pour’d out a cup of Hyson bloom;
And, having sipp’d the tea and sniff’d the vapour,
Spread out the “Thunderer” before his eyes—
When, to his great surprise,
He saw imprinted there, in black and white,
That he, THE ROE-buck—HE, whom all men knew,
Had been expressly born to set worlds right—
That HE was nothing but a parvenu.
Jove! was it possible they lack’d the knowledge he
Boasted a literary and scientific genealogy!
That he had had some ancestors before him—
(Beside the Pa who wed the Ma who bore him)—
Men whom the world had slighted, it is true,
Because it never knew
The greatness of the genius which had lain,
Like unwrought ore, within each vasty brain;
And as a prejudice exists that those
Who never do disclose
The knowledge that they boast of, seldom have any,
Each of his learned ancestors had died,
By an ungrateful world belied,
And dubb’d a Zany.
That HE should be
Denied a pedigree!
Appeared so monstrous in this land of freedom,
He instantly conceived the notion
To go down to the House and make a motion,
That all men had a right to those who breed ‘em.
Behold him in his seat, his face carnation,
Just like an ace of hearts,
Not red and white in parts,
But one complete illumination.
He rises--members blow their noses,
And cough and hem! till one supposes,
A general catarrh prevails from want of ventilation.
He speaks:—
Mr. Speaker, Sir, in me you see
A member of this house (hear, hear),
With whose proud pedigree
The “Thunderer” has dared to interfere.
Now I implore,
That Lawson may be brought upon the floor,
And beg my pardon on his bended knees.
In whatsoever terms I please.
(Oh! oh!)
(No! no!)
I, too, propose,
To pull his nose:
No matter if the law objects or not;
And if the printer’s nose cannot be got,
The small proboscis of the printer’s devil
Shall serve my turn for language so uncivil!
The “Thunderer” I defy,
And its vile lie.
(As Ajax did the lightning flash of yore.)
I likewise move this House requires—
No, that’s too complimentary—desires,
That Mr. Lawson’s brought upon the floor.
The thing was done:
The house divided, and the Ayes were—ONE!
EXPRESS FROM WINDSOR.
Last evening a most diabolical, and, it is to be regretted successful, attempt, was made to kiss the Princess Royal. It appears that the Royal Babe was taking an airing in the park, reclining in the arms of her principal nurse, and accompanied by several ladies of the court, who were amusing the noble infant by playing rattles, when a man of ferocious appearance emerged from behind some trees, walked deliberately up to the noble group, placed his hands on the nurse, and bent his head over the Princess. The Honourable Miss Stanley, guessing the ruffian’s intention, earnestly implored him to kiss her instead, in which request she was backed by all the ladies present.11. This circumstance alone must at once convince every unprejudiced person of the utter falsity of the reports (promulgated by certain interested parties) of the disloyalty of the Tory ladies, when we see several dames placed in the most imminent danger, yet possessing sufficient presence of mind to offer lip-service to their sovereign.—EDITOR. Morn. Post. He was not, however, to be frustrated in the attempt, which no sooner had he accomplished,
