Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 100, March 7, 1891Various
General
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 100, March 7, 1891
Various
English wit and humor -- Periodicals
In the meantime, SONOGUN's cousin, ACIS ARRANT, generally known to his
jocular intimates as Knave ARRANT, had been living in luxury with his
cousin's weak mother, whom he had contrived to marry. To effect this,
however, he had been compelled to tear a will into little pieces, and
had, at the same time, ruined that peace of his mind which he often
gave to SONOGUN. The unfortunate consequence was, that SONOGUN did
not value it in the least, and always returned it to him. And thus the
relations of the two men, who should have been friends, the guardian
and the ward, were always on a hostile footing, which only the most
delicate handling could have healed. ACIS was not happy. When his
glass told him he was old, he had no repartee ready, and could only
speculate gloomily on the disagreeable fate which had compelled him
to take part in a modern novel, and had evidently told him off to pass
away into the unseen in Chapter 40.
But, of course, GLADYS and her father, the doctor, knew nothing about
all this. GLADYS always looked happy; her hair, her mouth, her eyes,
her ears, even her little unformed nose, all looked as happy as
possible. She was a pleasant little patent moraliser, with a double
escapement action for great occasions. On this evening all the family
was gathered together, including the inevitable infant, whose prattle
serves to soothe the gloomy perversity of morose heroes. On such an
evening as this SONOGUN had seen them all years ago, and, though he
was standing in the garden and all the windows were shut, he had heard
every single whisper of the family conversation. The Doctor seemed to
be troubled, and GLADYS came up to him in her caressing way.
"My dear," he said, simply, "SONOGUN is in trouble, and we must rescue
him." No more was said, but the next moment GLADYS and her father had
left by the London express.
CHAPTER IV.
All things are fair that are not dark;
Yet all are dark that are not fair.
And the same cat that slays the lark,
Itself is often killed by care.--BOHER.
SONOGUN had seen a notice in a railway-carriage. "Beware of
card-sharpers" was printed upon it, and it flashed upon him, with
the force of a revelation, that it must be meant for him. Once more
he made up his mind. He would fly. Fear lent him a spare pair of
second-hand wings. He whistled to his dog _Stray_, and having thrown
HAECKEL and RENAN out of the window, he flapped twice, and then soared
up, _Stray_ following as best he could. It was very dark, and the
clouds were threatening. For a long time he avoided them, but at
length he fell into a particularly damp one, and would inevitably
have been drowned, had not the sagacious _Stray_ brought men to his
assistance. And thus SONOGUN, the scoffer, the agnostic, the moody,
gloomy, morose, cast-iron, Roman-faced misanthrope, got home. That
same evening he changed his clothes and his character, and on the
following day married GLADYS.
THE END.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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