Chapter 2

Again, there is a little grant of some thousands for Prince Albert's stables and dog-kennels! Very proper too; these animals must be lodged, ay, and fed; and the people--the creatures whom God made after his own image--the poor wretches who want nothing but a little bread, will lie down hungry and thankful, when they reflect that the royal dogs and horses are in the best possible condition. But we have not yet mentioned the great crowning work of Ministers--the Queen's speech on the Prorogation of the Parliament last week. What an admirable illustration it was of that profound logical deduction--that, out of nothing comes nothing! Yet it was deduction--that, out of nothing comes nothing! Yet it was not altogether without design, and though some sneering critics have called the old song--the burthen of it was clearly--

* * * * *

SO MUCH FOR BUCKINGHAM!

MR. SILK BUCKINGHAM being unmercifully reproached by his unhappy publisher upon the dreadful weight of his recent work on America, fortunately espied the youngest son of the enraged and disappointed vendor of volumes actually flying a kite formed of a portion of the first volume. "Heavy," retorted Silk, "nonsense, sir. Look there! so volatile and exciting is that masterly production, that it has even made that youthful scion of an obdurate line, spite my teetotal feelings,

* * * * *

PUNCH'S NEW GENERAL LETTER-WRITER.

Perhaps no one operation of frequent recurrence and absolute necessity involves so much mental pain and imaginative uneasiness as the reduction of thoughts to paper, for the furtherance of epistolatory correspondence. Some great key-stone to this abstruse science--some accurate data from which all sorts and conditions of people may at once receive instruction and assistance, has been long wanting.

Letter-writers, in general, may be divided into two great classes, viz.: those who write to ask favours, and those who write to refuse them. There is a vague notion extant, that in former days a third genus existed--though by no means proportionate to the other two--they were those who wrote "to grant favours;" these were also remarkable for enclosing remittances and paying the double postage--at least, so we are assured; of our knowledge, we can advance nothing concerning them and their (to us) supposititious existence, save our conviction that the race has been long extinct.

Those who write to ask, may be divided into--

1.--Creditors. 2.--Constituents. 3.--Sons. 4.--Daughters. 5.--Their offspring. 6.--Nephews, nieces. 7.--Indistinct cousins, and 8.--Unknown, dear, and intimate friends.

Those who write to refuse, are

1.--Debtors. 2.--Members of Parliament 3.--Fathers. 4.--Mothers. 5.--Their kin. 6.--Uncles. 7.--Aunts. 8.--Bilious and distant nabobs, and equally dear friends, who will do anything but what the askers want.

We are confident of ensuring the everlasting gratitude of the above parties by laying before them the proper formulæ for their respective purposes; and, therefore, as all the world is composed of two great classes, which, though they run into various ramifications, still retain their original distinguishing characteristics--namely, that of being either "debtors" or "creditors"--we will give the general information necessary for the construction of their future effusions.

(Firstly.)

From a wine-merchant, being a creditor, to a right honourable, being a debtor.

_Verjuice-lane, City, January 17, 1841_.

MY LORD,--I have done myself the honour of forwarding your lordship a splendid sample of exquisite Frontignac, trusting it will be approved of by your lordship. I remain, enclosing your lordship's small account, the payment of which will be most acceptable to your lordship's most

Obedient very humble servant,

GILBERT GRIPES.

THE ANSWER TO THE SAME.

The sample is tolerable--send in thirty dozen--add them to your account--and let my steward have them punctually on December 17, 1849.

BOSKEY.

P.S.--I expect you'll allow discount.

(Secondly.)

From a creditor, being a "victim," "schneider," "sufferer," or "tailor," to one who sets off his wares by wearing the same, being consequently a debtor.

HONOURED SIR,--I can scarcely express my delight at your kind compliments as to the fit and patterns of the last seventy-three summer waistcoats; the rest of the order is in hand. I enclose a small account of 490l. odd, which will just meet a heavy demand. Will you, sir, forward the same by return of post, to your obliged and devoted

Humble servant,

ADOLPHUS JULIO BACKSTITCH.

P. Pink, Esq., &c. &c.

ANSWER TO THE SAME

_Albany_.

You be d--d, _Backstitch_.

PENTWISTLE PINK.

(Thirdly.)

From a constituent in the country, being a creditor "upon promises," to a returned member of Parliament in town.

_Bumbleton Butts, April 1, 1841_.

DEAR SIR,--The enthusiastic delight myself (an humble individual) and the immense body of your enraptured constituents felt upon reading your truly patriotic, statesman-like, learned, straightforward and consistent speech, may be conceived by a person of your immense parliamentary imagination, but cannot be expressed by my circumscribed vocabulary. In stating that my trifling exertions for the return of such a patriot are more than doubly recompensed by your noble conduct, may I be allowed to suggest the earnest wish of my eldest son to be in town, for the pleasure of being near such a representative, which alone induces him to accept the situation of landing-waiter you so kindly insisted upon his preparing for. You will, I am sure, be happy to learn, the last baby, as you desired is christened after:--"the country's, the people's, nay, the world's member!"

Believe me, with united regards from Mrs. F. and Joseph, ever your staunch supporter and admirer,

FUNK FLAT.

To Gripe Gammon, Esq., M.P.

(Fourthly.)

ANSWER TO THE SAME, FROM GRIPE GAMMON, M.P.

_St. Stephen's_.

DEAR AND KIND CONSTITUENT,--I am more than happy. My return for your borough has satisfied _you_, my country, and myself! What can I say more? Pray give both my names to the dear innocent. Be careful in the spelling, two "M's" in Gammon, one following the A, the other preceding the O, and immediately next to the final N. I think I have now answered every point of your really Junisean letter. Let me hear from you _soon_--you cannot TOO SOON--and believe me,

My dear Funk, yours ever,

GRIPE GAMMON.

Funk Flat, Esq., &c. &c.

(Fifthly.)

FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. (SECOND LETTER).

_Bumbleton Butts, April 4, 1841_.

MY DEAR FRIEND AND PATRON,--All's right, the two _M's_ are in _their_ places, when will Joe be in _his?_ I know your heart; pray excuse my earnestness, but oblige me with an early answer. Joe is dying to be near so kind, so dear, so sincere a friend.

More devotedly than ever yours,

FUNK FLAT

G. Gammon, Esq., M.P., &c. &c.

(Sixthly.)

ANSWER FROM THE M.P. TO THE ABOVE.

_St. Stephen's_.

How can I express my feelings? _My_ name, _mine_ engrafted on the innocent offspring of the thoroughbred Funks, evermore to be by them and their heirs handed down to posterity! How I rejoice at that circumstance, and the intelligence I have so happily received about the wretched situation you speak of. Fancy, Funk, fancy the man, your son, in a moment of rashness, I meant to succeed, died of a sore-throat! an infallible disorder attendant upon the duties of those d--d landing-waiterships. What an escape we have had! The place is given to my butler, so there's no fear. Kiss the child, and believe me ever,

Your sincere and much relieved friend,

GRIPE GAMMON.

To Funk Flat, Esq., &c. &c.

From this time forward the correspondence, like "Irish reciprocity," is "all on one side." It generally consists of four-and-twenty letters from the constituent in the country to the returned member in town. As these are _never opened_, all that is required is a well-written direction, on a _blank sheet of paper_.

(Seventhly.)

FROM SONS TO FATHERS.

(Several.)

DEAR FATHER,--Studies continued--(blot)--profession--future hopes--application--increased expenses--irate landlady--small remittance--duty--love--say twenty-five pounds--best wishes--sister, mother, all at home.

Dutiful son,

JOHN JOSKIN.

(Eighthly.)

ANSWER TO THE SAME.

Delighted--assiduity--future fortune--great profession!--Increase of family--no cash--best prayers, sister, mother.

_Loving father!_

JOSKIN, SEN.

N.B. By altering the relative positions and sexes, the above is good for all relations! If writing to nabob, more flattery in letter of asker. Strong dose of oaths in refuser's answer.

(Ninthly.)

FROM "DEAR AND INTIMATE" TO A "DITTO DITTO."

_Brighton_.

MY DEAR TOM,--How are you, old fellow? Here I am, as happy as a prince; that is, I should be if you were with me. You know when we first met! what a time it was! do you remember? How the old times come back, and really almost the same circumstances! Pray do you recollect I wanted one hundred and fifty then? isn't it droll I do now? Send me your check, or bring it yourself.

Ever yours.

FITZBROWN SMITH.

T. Tims, Esq.

(Tenthly.)

ANSWER FROM "THE DITTO DITTO" TO "THE DITTO DITTO."

OLD FELLOW,--Glad to hear you are so fresh! Give you joy--wish I was with you, but can't come. Damn the last Derby--regularly stump'd--cleaned out--and done Brown!--not a feather to fly with! Need I say how sorry I am. Here's your health in Burgundy. Must make a raise for my Opera-box and a new tilbury. Just lost my last fifty at French hazard.

Ever, your most devoted friend,

T. TIMS.

F. Smith, Esq.

* * * * *

THE BARBER OF STOCKSBAWLER.

A TALE OF THE SUPERNATURAL.

At the little town of Stocksbawler, on the Lower Rhine, in the year of grace 1830, resided one Hans Scrapschins, an industrious and close-shaving barber. His industry met with due encouragement from the bearded portion of the community; and the softer sex, whose greatest fault is fickleness, generally selected Hans for the honour of new-fronting them, when they had grown tired of the ringlets nature had bestowed and which time had frosted.

Hans continued to shave and thrive, and all the careful old burghers foretold of his future well-doing; when he met with a misfortune, which promised for a time to shut up his shop and leave him a beggar. He fell in love.

Neighbours warned Hans of the consequences of his folly; but all remonstrance was vain. Customers became scarce, wearing out their patience and their wigs together; the shop became dirty, and winter saw the flies of summer scattered on his show-board.

Agnes Flirtitz was the prettiest girl in Stocksbawler. Her eyes were as blue as a summer's sky, her cheeks as rosy as an autumn sunset, and her teeth as white as winter's snow. Her hair was a beautiful flaxen--not a _drab_--but that peculiar sevenpenny-moist-sugar tint which the poets of old were wont to call golden. Her voice was melodious; her notes in _alt_ were equal to Grisi's: in short, she would have been a very desirable, loveable young lady, if she had not been a coquette.

Hans met her at a festival given in commemoration of the demise of the burgomaster's second wife--I beg pardon, I mean in celebration of his union with his third bride. From that day Hans was a lost barber. Sleeping, waking, shaving, curling, weaving, or powdering, he thought of nothing but Agnes. His love-dreams placed him in all kinds of awkward predicaments. And Agnes--what thought she of the unhappy barber? Nothing, except that he was a presumptuous puppy, and wore very unfashionable garments. Hans received an intimation of this latter opinion; and, after sundry quailings and misgivings, he resolved to dispose of his remaining stock in trade, and, for once, dress like a gentleman. The measure had been taken by the tailor, the garments had been basted and tried on, and Hans was standing at his door in a state of feverish excitement, awaiting their arrival in a completed condition (as there was to be _fête_ on the morrow, at which Agnes was to be present), when a stranger requested to be shaved. Hans wished him at the ---- next barber's; but there was something so unpleasantly positive in the visitor's appearance, that he had not the power to object, so politely bowed him into the shop. The stranger removed his cap, and discovered two very ugly protuberances, one on each side of his head, and of most unphrenological appearance. Hans commenced operations--the lather dried as fast as he laid it on, and the razor emitted small sparks as it encountered the bristles on the stranger's chin, Hans felt particularly uncomfortable, and not a word had hitherto passed on either side, when the stranger broke the ice by asking, rather abruptly, "Have you any schnapps in the house?" Hans jumped like a parched pea. Without waiting for a reply, the stranger rose and opened the cupboard. "I never take anything stronger than water," said Hans, in reply, to the "pshaw!" which broke from the stranger's lips as he smelt at the contents of a little brown pitcher. "More fool you," replied his customer. "Here taste that--some of the richest grape-blood of Rheingau;" and he handed Hans a small flask, which the sober barber respectfully declined. "Ha! ha! and yet you hope to thrive with the women," said the stranger. "No wonder that Agnes treats you as she does. But drink, man! drink!"

The stranger took a pipe, and coolly seated himself again in his chair, hung one leg over the back of another, and striking his finger briskly down his nose, elicited a flame that ignited his tobacco, and then he puffed, and puffed, till every moth in the shop coughed aloud. The uneasiness of Hans increased, and he looked towards the door with the most cowardly intention; and, lo! two laughing, dimpled faces, were peeping in at them. "Ha! how are you?" said the stranger; "come in! come in!" and to Hans' horror, two very equivocal damsels entered the shop. Hans felt scandalised, and was about to make a most powerful remonstrance, when he encountered the eye of his impertinent customer; and, from its sinister expression, he thought it wise to be silent. One of the damsels seated herself upon the stranger's knee, whilst the other looked most coaxingly to the barber; who, however, remained proof to all her winks and blinks, and "wreathed smiles."

"'Sblitzen!" exclaimed the lady, "the man's an icicle!"

"Hans, you're a fool!" said the stranger; and his enamorata concurred in the opinion. The flask was again proffered--the eye-artillery again brought into action, but Hans remained constant to pump-water and Agnes Flirtitz.

The stranger rubbed the palm of his hand on one of his head ornaments, as though he were somewhat perplexed at the contumacious conduct of the barber; then rising, he gracefully led the ladies out. As he stood with one foot on the step of the door, he turned his head scornfully over his shoulder, and said, "Hans, you are nothing but--a barber; but before I eat, you shall repent of your present determination."

"What security have I that you will keep your word?" replied Hans, who felt emboldened by the outside situation of his customer, and the shop poker, of which he had obtained possession.

"The best in the world," said the stranger. "Here, take these!" and placing both rows of his teeth in the hands of the astonished Hans, he quietly walked up the street with the ladies.

The astonishment of Hans had somewhat subsided, when Stitz, the tailor, entered with the so-much and the so-long-expected garments. The stranger was forgotten; the door was bolted, the clothes tried on, and they fitted to a miracle. A small three-cornered piece of looking-glass was held in every direction by the delighted tailor, who declared this performance his _chef-d'oeuvre_ and Hans felt, for the first time in his life, that he looked like a gentleman. Without a moment's hesitation, or the slightest hint at discount for ready money, he gave the tailor his last thaler, and his old suit of clothes, as per contract; shook Stitz's hand at parting, till every bone of the tailor's fingers ached for an hour afterwards, bolted the door, and went to bed the poorest, but happiest barber in Stocksbawler.

After a restless night, Hans rose the next morning with the oddest sensation in the world. He fancied that the bed was shorter, the chairs lower, and the room smaller, than on the preceding day; but attributing this feeling to the feverish sleep he had had, he proceeded to put on his pantaloons. With great care he thrust his left leg into its proper division, when, to his horror and amazement, he found that he had grown _two feet at least during the night_; and that the pantaloons which had fitted so admirably before, were now only knee-breeches. He rushed to the window with the intention of breaking his neck by a leap into the street, when his eye fell upon the strange customer of the preceding day, who was leaning against the gable-end of the house opposite, quietly smoking his meerschaum. Hans paused; then thought, and then concluded that having found an appetite, he had repented of his boast at parting, and had called for his teeth. Being a good-natured lad, Hans shuffled down stairs, and opening the door, called him to come over. The stranger obeyed the summons, but honourably refused to accept of his teeth, except on the conditions of the wager. To Hans' great surprise he seemed perfectly acquainted with the phenomenon of the past night, and good-naturedly offered to go to Stitz, and inform him of the barber's dilemma. The stranger departed, and in a few moments the tailor arrived, and having ascertained by his inch measure the truth of Hans' conjectures, bade him be of good cheer, as he had a suit of clothes which would exactly fit him. They had been made for a travelling giant, who had either forgotten to call for them, or suspected that Stitz would require the _gelt_ before he gave up the broadcloth.

The tailor was right--they did fit--and in an hour afterwards Hans was on his way to the _fête_. When he arrived there many of his old friends stood agape for a few moments: but as stranger things had occurred in Germany than a man growing two feet in one night, they soon ceased to notice the alteration in Hans' appearance. Agnes was evidently struck with the improvement of the barber's figure, and for two whole hours did he enjoy the extreme felicity of making half-a-dozen other young gentlemen miserable, by monopolising the arm and conversation of the beauty of Stocksbawler. But pleasure, like fine weather, lasts not for ever; and, as Hans and Agnes turned the corner of a path, his eye again encountered the stranger. Whether it was from fear or dislike he knew not, but his heart seemed to sink, and so did his body; for to his utter dismay, he found that he had shrunk to his original proportions, and that the garment of the giant hung about him in anything but graceful festoons. He felt that he was a human telescope, that some infernal power could elongate or shut up at pleasure.

The whole band of jealous rivals set up the "Laughing Chorus," and Agnes, in the extremity of her disgust, turned up her nose till she nearly fractured its bridge, whilst Hans rushed from the scene of his disgrace, and never stopped running until he opened the door of his little shop, threw himself into a chair, and laid his head down upon an old "family Bible" which chanced to be upon the table. In this position he continued for some time, when, on raising his head, he found his tormentor and the two ladies, grouped like the Graces, in the centre of the apartment.

"Well, Scrapshins," said the gentleman, "I have called for my teeth. You see I have kept my promise." Hans sighed deeply, and the ladies giggled.

"Nay, man, never look so glum! Here, take the flask--forget Agnes, and console yourself with the love of"--

The conclusion of this harangue must for ever remain a mystery; for Hans, at this moment, took up the family volume which had served him for a pillow, and dashed it at the heads of the trio. A scream, so loud that it broke the tympanum of his left ear, seemed to issue from them simultaneously--a thick vapour filled the room, which gradually cleared off, and left no traces of Hans' visitors but three small sticks of stone brimstone. The truth flashed upon the barber--his visitor was the far-famed Mephistopheles. Hans packed up his remaining wardrobe, razor, strop, soap-dish, scissors and combs, and turned his back upon Stocksbawler forever. Four years passed away, and Hans was again a thriving man, and Agnes Flirtitz the wife of the doctor of Stocksbawler. Another year passed on, and Hans was both a husband and a father; but the coquette who had nearly been his ruin had eloped with the _chasseur_ of a travelling nobleman.

* * * * *

LAURIE ON GEOGRAPHY.

Sir P. Laurie has sent to say that he has looked into Dr. Farr's "Medical Guide to Nice," and is much disappointed. He hoped to have seen a print of the eternally-talked of "_Nice_ Young Man," in the costume of the country. He doubts, moreover, that the Doctor has ever been there, for his remarks show him not to have been "over _Nice_."

* * * * *

COOMBE'S LUNGS AND LEARNING.

Dr. Coombe, in his new work upon America, by some anatomical process, invariably connects large lungs with expansive intellect. Our and Finsbury's friend, Tom Duncombe, declares, in his opinion, this must be the origin of the received expression for the mighty savans, viz., the "lights of literature."

* * * * *

PARLIAMENTARY MASONS.--PARLIAMENTARY PICTURES.

Was there ever anything so lucky that the strike of the masons should have happened at this identical juncture! Parliament is prorogued. Now, deducting Sir Robert Peel, physician, with his train of apothecaries and pestle-and-mortar apprentices, who, until February next, are to sit cross-legged and try to think, there are at least six hundred and thirty unemployed members of the House of Commons, turned upon the world with nothing, poor fellows! but grouse before them. Some, to be sure, may pick their teeth, in the Gardens of the Tuileries--some may even now venture to exercise their favourite elbow at Baden-Baden,--but with every possible and probable exception, there will yet be hundreds of unemployed law-makers, to whom time will be a heavy porter's burden.

We have a plan which, for its originality, should draw down upon us the gratitude of the nation. It is no other than this: to make all Members of Parliament, for once in their lives at least, useful. The masons, hired to build the new temples of Parliament, have struck. The hard-handed ingrates,--let them go! We propose that, during the prorogation at least, Members of Parliament, should, like beavers, build their own Houses. In a word, every member elected to a seat in Parliament should be compelled, like Robinson Crusoe, to make his own furniture before he could sit down upon it.

Have we not a hundred examples of the peculiar fitness of the task, in the habits of what in our human arrogance we call the lower animals? There is many a respectable spider who would justly feel himself calumniated by any comparison between him and any one of twenty Parliamentary lawyers we _could_ name; yet the spider spins its own web, and seeks its own nook of refuge from the Reform Broom of Molly the housemaid. And then, the tiny insect, the ant--that living, silent monitor to unregarding men--doth it not make its own galleries, build with toilsome art its own abiding place? Does not the mole scratch its own chamber--the carrion kite build its own nest! Shall cuckoos and Members of Parliament alone be lodged at others' pains?