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قراءة كتاب Our People From the Collection of "Mr. Punch"
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The Project Gutenberg eBook, Our People, by Charles Samuel Keene
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Title: Our People
From the Collection of "Mr. Punch"
Author: Charles Samuel Keene
Release Date: October 14, 2012 [eBook #41057]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR PEOPLE***
E-text prepared by Chris Curnow, Sue Fleming,
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
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| Note: | Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See http://archive.org/details/ourpeople00keen |
OUR PEOPLE
Sketched by
CHARLES KEENE.
from the Collection of "Mr. Punch."
BOSTON,
JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO.
1881.
Our People. At Home.
Our People. Street-Life.
Our People. In the Country.
Our People. Travelling.
Our People. Professional.
Our People. Official.
Our People. In the Army.
Our People. Art and Artists.
Our People. Volunteers.
Our People. At Business.
Our People. Domestics.
Our People. Working Folk.
Our People. In Ireland.
Our People. In Scotland.
&c., &c.
Toots! theres no a Jok' i' th' 'hale beuk!
COMPANION to "OUR PEOPLE,"
ENGLISH SOCIETY AT HOME,
Society Pictures By
George Du Maurier.
JAMES R. OSGOOD & Co., PUBLISHERS.
Mens Conscia.
Inspector (who notices a backwardness in History). "Who signed Magna Charta?" (No answer.)
Inspector (more urgently). "Who signed Magna Charta?" (No answer.)
Inspector (angrily). "Who signed Magna Charta!!?"
Scapegrace (Thinking matters are beginning to look serious). "Please, Sir, 'twasn't me, Sir!!"
Dignity.
Club "Buttons." "I'm at the 'Junior Peninsular' now."
Friend. "What! Did you 'Get the Sack' from 'the Reynolds'?"
Buttons (indignant). "Go along with yer! 'Get the Sack!' I sent in my Resi'nation to the C'mmittee!"
Family Pride.
First Boy. "My Father's a Orficer." Second Boy. "What Orficer?"
First Boy. "Why, a Corporal!" Third Boy (evidently "comic"). "So's my Father—he's a Orficer, too—a General, he is!"
Fourth Boy. "Go along with yer!" Third Boy. "So he is—he's a General Dealer!!"
Bad Customer.
Landlady. "What Gentleman's Luggage is this, Sam?"
Ancient Waiter. "Ge'tleman's Luggage, 'm! 'Or' bleshyer, no, Mum! That's artis's traps, that is. They'll 'ave Tea here to-night, take a little Lodgin' to-morrow, and there they'll be a Loafin about the place for Months, doin' no Good to Nobody!"
"March of Refinement."
Brown (behind the Age, but hungry). "Give me the Bill of Fare, Waiter."
Head Waiter. "Beg pardon, Sir?"
Brown. "The Bill of Fare."
Head Waiter. "The what, Sir? O!—ah!—Yes!"—(to Subordinate)—"Chawles, bring this—this—a—Gen'leman—the Menoo!!"
Refrigerated Tourists.
Provincial Waiter. "Ice! Gentlemen! There ain't no Ice in Autumn Time. But it's easy to See you are Gents from London, as don't Know much about Nature, and I don't Blame you for it, in course. But, Ice in August!" Exit, sniggering.