قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 146, April 29, 1914
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Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 146, April 29, 1914
in the cloak-room.
We'll waft him up to the dining-room to the strains of the Blue Danubian Band. We'll give him "La Bohême" before the "poularde"; and the Maxixe during. A Terrible Turk shall give him coffee (with Coon accompaniment); and we'll send him home with a silver-mounted sterilised tooth-pick and presents for Madame and Baby. There!
PER ASPARAGOS AD ASTRA.
Now we who sense the odorous Spring
Our various winter garments fling,
Cast off the heat promoting clout
That wise men keep till May is out,
And hail with joy and wear too soon
Suitings more fitly planned for June.
'Twas ever thus; and now we look
Askance on what arrides the cook,
Behold her boil and chop and strain
For us the cabbage all in vain.
She would have dished what most we scout,
But Brussels-sprouts at last are out.
And something else at last is in,
A something green and straight and thin.
Long looked for, long desired, its head
Well raised above its English bed,
It smiles at last and blesses us,
Our garden-grown asparagus!
Let others in their praise advance
The monstrous branches sent from France;
You ope your mouth as 'twere a door,
And bite off half an inch, not more;
And then perforce you lay aside
A tasteless foot of wasted pride.
Besides, you find that what you praise,
Is mostly sauce—a Hollandaise.
The succulent, the English kind,
You pick it up and eat it blind;
In fact, you lose your self-control,
And dip, and lift, and eat it whole.
And some day, when the beds have ceased
To cater for your daily feast,
You'll see—the after growth is fair—
A green and feathery forest there,
And "here," you'll say, "is what shall cheer
My palate in the coming year.
"Yea, when these graceful pigmy trees
Have swayed their last in any breeze,
And all is bare, I may again
See the ripe heads that pierce the plain,
And eat once more before I die
Our garden-grown asparagi."
R. C. L.
Massage in the 18th Century.
"Anatomy. Albinus (Bernard Siegfried). Tables of the Skeleton and Muscles of the Human Body, translated from the Latin. Folio, half calf (joints cracked, back rubbed). Edinburgh 1777-78."
A Special Correspondent of The Evening News wrote last week:—
"As for the Queen, from the moment she stepped off the yacht till she got into the train she went on smiling and bowing and murmuring 'Merci, oh merci bien?' I do not, of course, know what she was thinking."
Possibly it had something to do with gratitude.
A LIGHTNING ROYALTY ACADEMICIAN.
(All done while you wait.)
(Mr. Dennis Eadie.)
MY LORD'S DINNER.
[A companion picture to Mr. Edward Knoblauch's play, My Lady's Dress.]
Prologue.
William and Mary have returned from the Royalty Theatre, where they have attended a play in several scenes each representing some incident in the making of a lady's dress.
William (for the ninth time). Capital dinner we had to-night, dear. Don't know when I've had a better.
Mary. Oh, bother your old dinner. What did you think of the play?
William. H'm, not bad. Don't know that I care about those dream plays. (After deep thought) Capital caviare, that.
Mary (annoyed). You think of nothing but your food. Didn't you think Dennis Eadie was splendid?
William. Very clever. A remarkable tour de force. H'm. Capital whitebait, too. Did you notice the saddle of lamb, my love? Capital.
Mary. I thought it was all very novel and interesting.
William. The dinner, my dear? Not exactly novel, but certainly——
Mary (coldly). I wasn't referring to the dinner. If you could manage to get your mind off your meals occasionally, I should like to discuss the play.
William (yawning). Not to-night, dear, I'm sleepy.... Capital dinner; don't know when I've had a better.... Very, very sleepy.
[He goes to bed and dreams.
THE DREAM.
Scene I.
Moscow. The top of the Shot Tower where they make the caviare. Alexandrovitch is discovered at work. Enter Marieovitch.
Alexandrovitch (dropping his sturgeon and clasping her round the neck). At last, my love!
Marieovitch. Be careful. Williamovitch suspects. He hates you.
Alexandrovitch. Nonsense, love! He's only jealous because my caviare is so much rounder than his.
Marieovitch. He knows I am tired of him. Lookout; here he is.
Enter Williamovitch from behind a heap of buttered toast.
Williamovitch (sternly). I know all.
Alexandrovitch (pushing him over the edge of the tower). Then take that!
[Exit Williamovitch.
Scene II.
A typefounder's in Italy, where they make the macaroni letters for the consommé.
Gulielmo (sorting the O's). One million, three hundred and eighty-seven thousand, six hundred and forty-five. There are two missing, Maria.
Maria (nervously). Perhaps you counted wrong, Gulielmo.
Gulielmo (scornfully). Counted wrong! And me the best macaroni sorter in Italy! Now let's get the "E's" together. (After a pause) Two million, four hundred and five thousand, two hundred and ninety seven. Corpo di Bacco! There are two "E's" 'missing'!
Maria. Don't you remember there was one "E" the reader wouldn't pass?
Gulielmo (suspiciously). I made another to take its place. There's some devilry in this. Maria, girl, what are you hiding from me?
Maria (confused). Oh, Gulielmo, I didn't want you to know.
[She takes a handful of letters from her lap and gives them shyly to him.
Gulielmo (sorting them). Two "O's," two "E's," two "L's——" What's all this?
Maria (overcome). Oh!
Gulielmo. "I Love Gulielmo."
(Ecstatically). Maria! You love me?
[She falls into his arms.
Scene III.
A whitebait stud farm at Greenwich. Polly is discovered outside one of the stables. Enter Alfred.
Polly. Can't think what's the matter with Randolph this morning. That's 'is fifth slice of lemon, and 'e's as fierce and 'ungry as ever.
Alfred (gaily).