Part 1

Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer, Ernest Schaal, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 62. FEBRUARY 3, 1872.

=PRIVATE SCHOOL CLASSICS.=

(_Letter from a Lady._)

DEAR MR. PUNCH,

THOUGH you love to laugh, and we all love to laugh with you, I know that you are kindness itself when an afflicted woman throws herself upon your sympathy. This letter will not be quite so short as I could wish; but, unless you have my whole story, you will not understand my sorrow.

My boy, JOHNNY, is one of the dearest boys you can imagine. I send you his photograph, though it does not half justice to the sweetness and intelligence of his features; besides, on the day it was taken, he had a cold, and his hair had not been properly cut, and the photographer was very impatient, and after eight or nine sittings, he insisted that I ought to be satisfied. I could tell you a hundred anecdotes of my boy's cleverness, but three or four, perhaps, will be enough.

[_More than enough, dear Madam. We proceed to the paragraph that follows them._]

His father, I regret to say, though a kind parent, does not see in JOHNNY the talent and genius which I am certain he possesses. The child, who is eleven years and eleven months old, goes (alas, I must say went) to a Private Academy of the most respectable description. Only twelve young gentlemen are taken, and the terms are about £100 a-year, and most things extra. The manners of the pupils are strictly looked after; they have no coarse amusements; and, to see them neatly dressed, going arm-in-arm, two and two, for a walk, was quite delightful. I shall never see them again without tears.

My husband was desirous that JOHNNY should have a sound classical education, and we believed--I believe still--that this is given at the Private School in question. One evening during the holidays, my husband asked JOHNNY what Latin Book he was reading. The child replied, without hesitation or thought--"_Horace_." "Very good," said his father, taking down the odious book. "Let you and me have a little go-in at _Horace_." I went to my desk, _Mr. Punch_, and, as I write very fast, I resolved to make notes of what occurred, for I felt that JOHNNY would cover himself with glory and honour. _This_ is what occurred. Of course, I filled in the horrid Latin, afterwards, from the book, which I could gladly have burned.

_Papa._ Well, let us see, my boy, suppose we take Hymn number xiv. You know all about that? _Ad Rempublicam._ What does that mean?

_Johnny._ O, we never learn the titles.

_Papa._ Pity, because they help you to the meaning. But come, what's _Rempublicam_?

_Johnny._ I suppose it means a public thing. _Rem's_ a thing, and _publicus_ is public. [Was not that clever in the dear fellow, putting words together like that, _Mr. Punch_? Will you believe it, his Papa did nothing but give him a grunt?]

_Papa._ Go on.

_O navis, referent in mare te novi Fluctus. O quid agis?_

_Johnny._ O, navy, referring to the sea. I have known thee. What will the waves do?

[I thought this quite beautiful, like "_What are the Wild Waves Saying?_"]

_Papa._ Ah! Proceed.

----_fortiter occupa Portum. Nonne vides_----

_Johnny._ Bravely occupy the door. You see a nun.

_Papa._ A nun, child. What do you mean?

_Johnny._ A nun is a holy but mistaken woman, Papa, that lives in a monastery, and worships graven images. [You see he had been _beautifully_ taught.]

_Papa._ But what word, in the name of anachronisms, do you make a nun?

_Johnny._ _Nonne._ O, I forgot, Pa, that's French. [Instead of being pleased that the child knew three languages instead of two, his Papa burst out laughing.]

_Papa._ Try this:--

_Et malus celeri saucius Africo, Antennæque gemant? ac sine funibus Vix durare carinæ Possint imperiosius Æquor?_

_Johnny._ And celery sauce is bad for an African, And your aunts groan though there is no funeral, And they could not be more imperious If they had to endure a sea-voyage.

_Myself._ Darling! Why don't you say something to encourage him, TOM? It's delightful.

_Papa._ Yes, it's encouraging. Go on, Sir.

----_non tibi sunt integra lintea; Non di, quos iterum pressa voces malo._

_Johnny._ You have no large pieces of lint. Do not die, though they again press you to say apple.

_Papa. Nil pictis timidus navita puppibus Fidit!_

_Johnny._ No sailor is frightened at the dogs in a picture he sees.

_Papa._ _Fidit's_, he sees, eh?

----_Tu, nisi ventis Debes ludibrium, cave._

_Johnny._ If it wasn't for the wind, You ought to play in a cave.

_Papa._ Ha! Well, here's the last; we may as well go through it.

_Myself._ Papa! don't be so cross.

_Papa._ Mind your letter-writing, will you? [But _I wasn't_ letter-writing. I was making notes.]

_Nuper sollicitum quæ mihi tædium._

_Johnny._ Lately a solicitor was a great bore to me.

_Papa._ [To do him justice, he recovered his good-humour and roared.]

A great bore, was he? They _are_ bores sometimes. Now then--

_Nunc desiderium, curaque non levis._

_Johnny._ I do not care for the light of the stars.

_Papa._ Hang it, JOHNNY, how do you get at "stars" in that line?

_Johnny._ _De_, of, _siderium_, dative, no, genitive plural of _sidus_, a star, Papa, and _levis_ is light.

_Papa._ Finish. _Interfusa nitentes Vites æquora Cycladas._

What do you make of that? "With an infusion of nitre the vines are equal to Cyclops"--is that it?

_Johnny._ I think so, Papa dear. The Cyclops were great giants, who poked out the eye of Achilles with a hot stick, for throwing stones at their ship.

_Papa._ Go to bed!

_Johnny._ What for, Papa?

_Myself._ Yes, what for, TOM? I'm sure the dear fellow has done his best to please you.

_Papa._ You are right. It is I who ought to be sent to bed. All right, JOHNNY. Let us have a game at the _Battle of Dorking_--get the board. That's good fun. But £100 a-year, and _sollicitum_, a solicitor, isn't. However, we'll alter that.

And, dear _Mr. Punch_, he gave notice the very next day that JOHNNY should not go back to the Private School, and is going to send him to a College, to be starved, fagged, beaten, knocked down with cricket-balls, trampled down at football, and taught to fight.

Believe me, yours,

AN UNHAPPY MOTHER.

* * * * *

=True Thomas of Chelsea.=

IT was MR. CARLYLE who first revealed the existence of Phantasm Captains, which many people refused to believe in, and laughed at the notion of. What do they say now that a Board of Captains in command over Captains and Admirals too is called by its own Secretary a Phantom Board? Surely that THOMAS of Chelsea is a true Seer, and long since saw through Simulacra which have, in truth, at last been discovered to be transparent Shams.

* * * * *

* * * * *

EVENINGS FROM HOME.

_MR. BARLOW, with MASTERS HARRY SANDFORD and TOMMY MERTON, visits ASTLEY'S THEATRE, to see the Pantomime of "LADY GODIVA."_

"THIS," exclaimed HARRY, "is an exhibition which affords me, and indeed appears to give to a vast number besides myself, the greatest gratification.

_Tommy._ I see, Sir, that _St. George_ appears in this story with _Lady Godiva_; pray, Sir, who was _St. George_?

_Mr. Barlow._ There have been, my dear TOMMY, various opinions on this interesting subject, and some honest folks have sought to identify the celebrated personage in question with a Butcher, who served bad meat to the Christians in Palestine, while others have gone equally far towards proving that he was no Butcher, but an Arian Bishop of Alexandria. Whether Butcher, or Bishop, it was for a long time most difficult to determine.

_Harry._ But pray, Sir, why did not the antagonistic parties bring the case into a Court of Law so as to obtain a decision.

_Mr. Barlow._ Your own experience, HARRY, will, doubtless, one of these days furnish you with sufficient reason for the persons interested not having given employment to the gentlemen of the long robe. There was no claimant to the title living, and there was nothing beyond a title to be claimed; for, whether on the one hand (with EUSEBIUS) revering him as a Saint, or, on the other (with GIBBON) abusing him as "the infamous GEORGE," both sides admitted the object of their contention to have been long since deceased. He is, however, the patron Saint of England, and owes his great reputation in modern times to managers of Theatres at Christmas, and writers of extravaganzas and of Pantomimes, to whom his history is invaluable, as affording marvellous opportunities for great scenic display, and spectacular effect, while the Saintly Knight himself seldom fails to find an admirable representative in either a young lady of considerable personal attractions (as here at ASTLEY'S) or in some eccentric and grotesque gentleman like one of the lithsome PAYNES, or the agile MR. VOKES, whose extraordinary feats, with his legs, we have already witnessed at Drury Lane Theatre. I confess, however, that I do not perceive by what process _St. George_ has been brought into the comparatively modern legend of _Lady Godiva_.

_Harry._ It seems to me, Sir, that you intended us just now to remark some diverting jest in your use of the words "feats" and "legs," which TOMMY, I fear, has failed to comprehend.

_Mr. Barlow._ Indeed, HARRY, you are quite right, and I trust that both you, and TOMMY, will be able to utter such pleasantries yourselves with a full appreciation of their value. I regret to notice that MISS SHERIDAN, who, with much discretion, performs the part of the _Lady Godiva_, is suffering from cold, and is, consequently, a little hoarse. This is natural at ASTLEY'S.

Then, turning to TOMMY, and smiling in his usual kind manner, MR. BARLOW said, "My dear TOMMY, although you have not yet mastered the amusing puns which I made in my recent discourse, you can, it may be, tell me why MISS SHERIDAN resembles a pony?"

TOMMY, whose whole attention was now given to the scene, expressed his intention of at once renouncing all attempts at solving this problem. Whereupon MR. BARLOW cheerfully replied that MISS SHERIDAN so far resembled a pony, inasmuch as she was, unfortunately, on that evening, "a little hoarse." HARRY laughed at this sally, and, indeed, considered his beloved tutor a prodigy of wit and ingenuity; but it was otherwise with TOMMY, who remained silent and depressed during the greater part of the entertainment; and, indeed, it was not until the very effective Transformation Scene that TOMMY'S unbounded pleasure and admiration once more found vent in the most unqualified applause, in which the entire audience joined.

_Harry._ These expressions of delight remind me of the story you read to me the other day, Sir, called _Agesiläus and the Elastic Nobleman_. As TOMMY has not heard it I will----

But at this moment a vast assemblage of children on the stage, habited as soldiers, commenced the National Anthem at the top of their voices, which for the time put an end to further conversation.

On quitting the theatre, TOMMY, who from having been in a state of the greatest elation had once more resumed the sober and saddened aspect with which he had listened to his tutor's discourse during the play, took HARRY aside, and declared to him, with tears in his eyes, that from that day forward he would never rest till he had made himself thoroughly acquainted with all the jokes in the English language, and had perfected himself in the art of constructing new ones.

"Your determination, MASTER TOMMY," replied his young friend, "reminds me of the story of _Darius and the Corrugated Butcher_; but, as I am too fatigued to-night to remember its main features, I will defer the recital of it till to-morrow morning."

TOMMY evinced a great curiosity to know whether there were in this tale any puns, upon which he might at once exercise his intelligence, but on HARRY'S repeating his promise, he allowed him to go to bed without further question.

Being thus left to his own resources, TOMMY MERTON, in pursuance of his new resolution, went to the book-shelves and commenced a search which was not destined to be altogether fruitless.

MR. BARLOW had scarcely been in bed two hours, when he was aroused from a most peaceful and refreshing slumber by a loud hammering and knocking at the door of his chamber. Unable to imagine what had happened, and, indeed, fearing lest the premises should have unfortunately caught fire, he was on the point of gathering together such articles of clothing as he considered strictly necessary, when TOMMY burst into the room half-undressed, and bawling out, "I've seen it! I've seen it!"

"What have you seen?" asked MR. BARLOW.

"Why, Sir," answered TOMMY, "I had a mind to discover, before I went to bed, what you meant by your two jokes at Astley's. So, Sir, I got down your book of _Joseph Miller's Jests_, a dictionary, and a grammar; and I find that the fun you had intended lies in the similarity of pronunciation in the case of the substantive _horse_ and of the adjective _hoarse_, and also in _feat_ and _feet_ possessing a like sound."

"Well," said MR. BARLOW, pausing, with a boot-jack in hand, "you are indeed right. And if you will approach a little nearer----"

But TOMMY, anticipating the purport of his revered tutor's invitation, had speedily withdrawn himself from the apartment, being careful at the same time to lock MR. BARLOW'S door on the outside.

"To-morrow," said MR. BARLOW quietly to himself as he returned to his bed--"To-morrow we will talk over these things."

He now perceived that he was in a condition of unwonted restlessness; and it was not until he had twice repeated to himself the story of _The Laplander and the Agreeable Peacock_, that he fell asleep.

* * * * *

=Doctors in Court.=

MEDICAL men, experts and others, in the witness-box, are unfortunately apt to use technical terms for which there are no equivalents in plain English. For this pedantry the Judge usually snubs them. Quite right. There are no hard words or phrases, of which the use, by Judges or Counsel, is sometimes unavoidable, in Law.

* * * * *

* * * * *

OWLS THAT IS NOT HORGANS.

MR. PUNCH has--need he say it?--the profoundest admiration for the skill and zeal of the great Healers who have conducted H.R.H. the PRINCE OF WALES out of the region of bulletins. But he hopes that should any member of the Royal Family again need medical advice (which good fortune forefend for many a long day), no name belonging to a member of the illustrious trio may be signed to the _affiches_. It was not for _Mr. Punch_ to complain while bulletins issued, but now all else is happiness, he makes his moan, or rather (as MR. ROEBUCK says Birmingham is always doing) makes his howl. How many thousand idiots have sent _Mr. Punch_ jests on the names of the Doctors, he cannot say, but the changes have been rung, _ad nauseam_, on a "Jennerous diet," a "Lowe fever," a "bird of good omen--a Gull," until----But not one goose was gratified; ha! ha! Fire, not vanity, was fed. Still, _Mr. Punch_ has suffered; and therefore he begs leave to suggest that all the three Doctors be raised to the Peerage. They have richly deserved it, and so has SIR JAMES PAGET (whose name happily does not help the small wits); but _Mr. Punch's_ comfort is the thing to be considered. N.B. He likes to give those who are "blest in not being simple men" an occasional peep--as thus--at the circumjacent world of donkeyism.

* * * * *

MRS. MALAPROP has lately been studying Latin, with success. But, as a good Church-woman, she cannot hold with the rule _Festina lentè_. She disapproves of feasting in Lent.

* * * * *

GUILDED LADIES.

LADIES, look at this proposal to promote what some of you may call the millineryennium:--

"A Guild of Ladies is proposed to be formed to promote modesty of dress to do away with extravagance, and substitute the neatness and sobriety suitable to Christian women."

A guild formed to promote the sobriety of women ought to have SIR WILFRID LAWSON for a patron, and should be supported by every Teetotaller now living in the land. But the sobriety here mentioned is that of dress, not drink; and total abstinence from finery and flummery of fashion is doubtless the chief aim of the promoters of the guild. Well, if they succeed in reducing even chignons to reasonable dimensions, they will deserve the thanks of every one afflicted with good taste; and if they further are successful in reducing the enormous bills which ladies owe their milliners, they will earn the heartfelt gratitude of many a poor husband, who can ill afford to pay them. All is not gold that glitters, but we may guess there is true metal, and not merely specious glitter, in these Guilded Ladies.

* * * * *

=French and British Budgets.=

M. THIERS has been censured by some of our contemporaries for his fiscal policy of seeking to impose heavy duties on raw materials. At any rate, however, France will not be saddled (like an ass) with an Income-tax; so the taxation to which that country will be subjected, will be comparatively light, even if it should have the effect of making butchers' meat as frightfully dear there as it is in England.

* * * * *

=A TEMPERANCE HOSPITAL.=