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قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103, October 8, 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 103, October 8, 1892
gun-maker; others will burst in, and defend ejectors, or praise their own gun-makers, and the ball, once set rolling, will not be stopped until you take your places for the first beat of the afternoon, just as MARKHAM is telling you that his old Governor never shoots with anything but an old muzzle-loader by MANTON, and makes deuced good practice with it too.
"Choke" is not a very good topic; it doesn't last long. After you have asked your neighbour if his gun is choked, and told him that your left barrel has a modified choke, the subject is pretty well exhausted.
"Cast-off." Not to be recommended. There is very little to be made of it.
Something may be done with the price of guns. There's sure to be someone who has done all his best and straightest shooting with a gun that cost him only £15. Everybody else will say, "It's perfect rot giving such high prices for guns. You only pay for the name. Mere robbery." But there isn't one of them who would consent not to be robbed.
It sometimes creates a pretty effect to call your gun "My old fire-iron," or "my bundook," or "this old gas-pipe of mine."
"Bore." Never pun on this word. It is never done in really good sporting society. But you can make a few remarks, here and there, about the comparative merits of twelve-bore and sixteen-bore. Choose a good opening for telling your story of the man who shot with a fourteen-bore gun, ran short of cartridges on a big day, and was, of course, unable to borrow from anyone else. Hence you can deduce the superiority of twelve-bores, as being the more common size.
All these subjects, like all others connected with shooting, can be resumed and continued after dinner, and in the smoking-room. Talk of the staleness of smoke! It's nothing to the staleness of the stories to which four self-respecting smoking-room walls have to listen in the course of an evening.
A PIS-ALLER.
"ARE THERE ANY NIGGERS ON THE BEACH THIS MORNING, MAMMIE?"
"NO, DEAR; IT'S SUNDAY MORNING."
"OH, THEN I MAY AS WELL GO TO CHURCH WITH YOU!"
BY-AND-BY LAWS FOR TRAFALGAR SQUARE.
(When Meetings are held in "Times of Political or Social Crises.")
1. Cabs, omnibuses, carriages, and pedestrians will be expected to keep clear of the space occupied by the Demonstrators.
2. To prevent destruction of glass and removal of property from shop windows, tradesmen will be expected to put up their shutters several hours before the holding of the meeting.
3. No particular notice will be paid to the transference of property from one leader of labour to another. If done by stealth, it will be accepted as a proof of secret Socialism.
4. No objection will be raised to combats amongst the Demonstrators, with the restriction that no Government property is injured.
5. As the maintaining of the road is a matter of contract, Demonstrators wishing to emphasise their opinions, must bring their own stones.
6. As a good deal of property is expected to change hands during the various proceedings, an application with a description of lost goods, and photograph of supposed thief, can be addressed to the Chief Inspector of Police, Scotland Yard.
7. These regulations (which are tentative) will be in force until after the next General Election, when a fresh series will be published, to be followed by others as occasion may require.
A POOR ROAD TO LEARNING.
SCENE—Interior of a School Board Office. Official discovered hard at work, doing single-handed in London what is done by nearly a thousand officials combined in "Bonnie Scotland." Enter Female Applicant, with infant.
Applicant. Please, Sir, here's my boy. Can you take him?
Official. Certainly. Has he had any education?
App. Well, as he's rising five, not much.
Off. But does he know anything? For instance, has he learned any English history?
App. Not that I know of.
Off. Has he dipped into geography?
App. Well, I don't think he has.
Off. Can he cipher at all?
App. Not very well.
Off. Does he know what two and two make?
App. Well, he has never said he does.
Off. Can he write?
App. Well, no, he doesn't write.
Off. But I suppose he can read? Come, he at least can read?
App. Well, no, Sir, I am afraid he's not much of a scholar. I don't think he can read.
Off. Then he is absolutely ignorant—miserably ignorant.
App. Very likely, Sir,—you know best.
Off. Well, now, my good woman, I will tell you what we will do with him. We will teach him to read, write, and cipher, and give him an excellent education.
App. And you will take care of him, Sir?
Off. Of course we will take care of him; and as for his education, we will—
App. Oh, Sir, so long as you looks after him, never you mind about his education!
[Exit infantless.
TO MAUD.
A Penitent Roundel.
I called you MAUDE. I only meant to tease,
But somehow, ere I ended, came to laud
Your charms in my poor verses. So in these
I called you MAUDE.
"My name is MAUD."
And I am overawed,
Forgive the indiscretion if you please.
The spirit Truth, they tell me, is abroad,
And since she sojourns still across the seas,
I swear I knew the final e a fraud—
So that you suffered from no lack of e's
I called you MAUDE!
KNILL NISI BOIMUM.
Lord Mayor Elect Knill and the Livery Goose.The good common sense of the Common Councilman and Liverymen of the City,—Liverymen not to be led astray by any false lights,—coupled with their truly English love of fairplay, prevailed, and the City Fathers on Goose Day were prevented from following in the goose-steps of that Uncommon Councilman who, bearing the honoured names of BEAUFOY (a fine old Norman-Baron title!) and of MOORE (shade of Sir THOMAS!), made so extraordinary a display of bigotry and ignorance as, it is to be hoped, is rare, and becoming rarer every day, among our worthy JOHN GILPINS of credit and renown East of the Griffin.
But in spite of this nonsensical hot-gospelling rant, Alderman and Sheriff STUART KNILL was elected Lord Mayor, while BEAUFOY MOORE was, so to speak, no MOORE, and, in fact, very much against his will and wish, was reduced to NIL. WILLY-KNILLY he had to cave in. Mr. Punch congratulates the Lord Mayor Elect, but still more does he congratulate the City Fathers on rising above paltry sectarianism, so utterly unworthy of time, place, and persons, and for standing up, in true English fashion, for freedom of worship coupled with absolute Liberty of Conscience.