Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 146, June 17, 1914Various
General
Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 146, June 17, 1914
Various
English wit and humor -- Periodicals
"We all want union nowadays so much in everything, don't we?" I agreed
pleasantly, "but I'm not so sure about the drum. You see the baby makes
a most infernal noise as it is with a----"
He interrupted me to explain the uses of these things. The union, it
seemed, was a kind of garter to attach the hose to the tap, and the drum
was where the snake wound itself to sleep at night. "And the little
pepper-castor, of course," I said, "is what one puts at the end to make
it sneeze. I understand completely. If you will have them all sent round
to me to-morrow I will pay on delivery."
* * * * *
When I got out into the street I found that a great change had taken
place. The sky overhead was black with imminent rain. A sharp shower
pattered at my heels as I sprinted for the 'bus, and when I disembarked
from it the gutters were gurgling with ill-concealed delight. As I
walked up the garden I noticed that the majority of the pinks were lying
in a drunken stupor upon their beds.
Araminta met me at the door. "Why, you must be wet through," she said.
"Go up and change instantly. And aren't you glad now you haven't got a
silly old hose after all?"
"I am indeed," I replied.
Whilst I changed I thought deeply, and after dinner I sat down and wrote
politely to Messrs. Altruage as follows:
"Mr. Hopkinson regrets that through inadvertence he ordered a quantity
of hose this afternoon in Messrs. Altruage's horticultural department
instead of their foot-robing studio. If Messrs. Altruage will kindly
cancel this order Mr. Hopkinson will call in the morning and select six
pairs of woollen socks."
In a climate like ours, I reflected as I posted the letter, there is a
good deal to be said for these mammoth stores.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Hodge._ "THAT'S THE BEST OF COMIN' EARLY, MARIA. WE'VE
GOT THE BEST SEATS IN THE 'OUSE!"]
* * * * *
IN THE PARK.
(_Souvent femme varie._)
Little girls in June attire,
Grumbling to your governesses,
What is it that you desire--
Chocolates or satin dresses,
Jewels, or a tiny hound,
All your own, to drag around?
Governesses who betray
Little love for your employment,
If a fairy bade you say
What would give you most enjoyment,
Would your fancy not pursue
Unsubstantial shadows too?
"Fleeting joys have little use"--
So, as teachers, you endeavour
In your charges to induce
Virtues which will last for ever;
But, as women, you resent
Anything so permanent!
* * * * *
"A half followed, which made Vardon dormy 3, and another half at
the 16th, where he made a brilliant recovery after he had hit a
spectator, gave him the match by 3 and 2."
_Times._
The recovery of the spectator wouldn't matter so much.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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