قراءة كتاب John Leech's Pictures of Life and Character, Volume 1 (of 3) From the Collection of "Mr. Punch"
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John Leech's Pictures of Life and Character, Volume 1 (of 3) From the Collection of "Mr. Punch"
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A LONDON GENT ABROAD.
Scene—A Café in Paris.
London Gent. "GARCONG! TAS DE CORFEE!"
Garçon. "BIEN, M'SIEU'—VOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE ZEE 'TIMES'?"
London Gent. "HANG THE FELLER! NOW, I WONDER HOW THE DOOSE HE FOUND OUT I WAS AN ENGLISHMAN!"
ROMANCE AND REALITY.
Beautiful Being (who is all soul). "HOW GRAND, HOW SOLEMN, DEAR FREDERICK, THIS IS! I REALLY THINK THE OCEAN IS MORE BEAUTIFUL UNDER THIS ASPECT THAN UNDER ANY OTHER!"
Frederick (who has about as much poetry in him as a Codfish). "HM—AH! YES. PER-WAPS. BY THE WAY, BLANCHE—THERE'S A FELLA SWIMPING. S'POSE WE ASK HIM IF HE CAN GET US SOME PWAWNS FOR BWEAKFAST TO-MOWAW MORNING?"
SYMPTOMS OF WET WEATHER.
Tom. "HOLLO, SAM, WHAT THE JUICE ARE YOU CARRYING OF?"
Sam. "'CLARISSA ARLO,' FOR MISSIS."
PITY THE SORROWS OF THE POOR POLICE.
"LOR, SOOSAN! HOW'S A FELLER TO EAT MEAT SUCH WEATHER AS THIS? NOW, A BIT O' PICKLED SALMON AND COWCUMBER, OR A LOBSTER SALAD MIGHT DO."
THE DERBY EPIDEMIC.
GENTLEMEN,
OWING TO SUDDEN AND VERY SEVERE INDISPOSITION, I REGRET TO SAY THAT I SHALL NOT BE ABLE TO ATTEND THE OFFICE TO-DAY. I HOPE, HOWEVER, TO BE ABLE TO RESUME MY DUTIES TO-MORROW.
I AM, GENTLEMEN,
YOURS VERY OBEDIENTLY,
PHILIP COX.
HOW TO GET RID OF A GRATIS PATIENT.
"SO YOU'VE TAKEN ALL YOUR STUFF, AND DON'T FEEL ANY BETTER, EH? WELL, THEN, WE MUST ALTER THE TREATMENT; YOU MUST GET YOUR HEAD SHAVED; AND IF YOU WILL CALL HERE TO-MORROW ABOUT ELEVEN, MY PUPIL HERE WILL PUT A SETON IN THE BACK OF YOUR NECK."
THE FISH DINNER.
"THE WHITEBAIT SEEM VERY LARGE, WAITER?"
"YES, SIR; VERY FINE AT PRESENT, SIR."
A HIGHLAND GAME IN A LONDON STREET.
PORTRAIT OF THE BOY WHO WON THE PRIZE FOR "PUTTING A STONE" THROUGH A WINDOW.
A QUIET WEED.
Guard. "SOME ONE BEEN SMOKING, I THINK?"
Passenger. "WHAT! SMOKING! THAT'S VERY REPREHENSIBLE. PERHAPS IT WAS THE CLERICAL GENTLEMAN WHO HAS JUST GOT OUT OF THE NEXT COMPARTMENT."
PRODIGIOUS!
Schoolmistress. "YOU SEE, MY LOVE—IF I PUNCTURE THIS INDIA-RUBBER BALL IT WILL COLLAPSE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
Child. "OH, YES, I UNDERSTAND—IF YOU PRICK IT, IT WILL GO SQUASH."
BLESS THE BOY!
Old Lady. "NOW, ARTHUR, WHICH WILL YOU HAVE? SOME OF THIS NICE PUDDING, OR SOME JAM TART?"
Juvenile. "NO PASTRY, THANK-YE, AUNT. IT SPOILS ONE'S WINE SO. I DON'T MIND A DEVILLED BISCUIT, THO', BY-AND-BY, WITH MY CLARET."
HOOKING AND EYEING.
Angelina (the Wife of his Bussum). "WELL, EDWIN, IF YOU CAN'T MAKE THE 'THINGS,' AS YOU CALL THEM, MEET, YOU NEED NOT SWEAR SO. IT'S REALLY QUITE DREADFUL."
A GAY YOUNG FELLOW.
Young Rapid. "YOU ARE QUITE SURE THIS IS THE CORRECT DRESS FOR A YOUNG FELLOW OF THAT PERIOD, EH?"
Mr. Noses. "OH, PERFECTLY CORRECT, SIR; AND REALLY LOOKS SPLENDID ON YER!"
"DE GUSTIBUS," &c., &c.
Snip. "THAT'S A SWEET THING FOR A WAISTCOAT, SIR, AND WOULD LOOK UNCOMMON WELL UPON YOU, SIR!"
JEALOUSY.
Betrothed (who does not dance the Polka). "I SHOULD LIKE TO PUNCH HIS HEAD—A CONCEITED BEAST!"
A BON-BON FROM A JUVENILE PARTY.
Alfred. "I SAY, FRANK, AREN'T YOU GOING TO HAVE SOME SUPPER?"
Frank. "A—NOT AT PRESENT. I SHALL WAIT TILL THE WOMEN LEAVE THE ROOM."
SPECULATORS.
"THIS AIN'T SUCH A WERRY BAD IDEA, IS IT, JIM? HERE'S THE GREAT DIDDLESEX WRITES TO ME FOR FIVE BOB ON A HUNDRED AN' FIFTY SHARES; AND, TO SAVE TROUBLE, VANTS THE NAME
