Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 101, November 21, 1891 — John Shaqi
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 101, November 21, 1891Various
General
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 101, November 21, 1891
Various
English wit and humor -- Periodicals
_Mr. B._ Well, yes. I assure you I often go to a Gallery, see a picture
there that takes my fancy, go back to my office, and paint it in half an
hour from memory--so lake the original that, if it were framed, and hung up
alongside, it would puzzle the man who painted it to know t'other from
which! I have indeed! I paint original pictures, too. Most important thing
I ever did was--let me see now--three feet by two and three-quarters. I was
most successful in getting an effect of rose-coloured snow against the sky.
I sponged it up, and--well, it came right somehow. _Luck_, that was, not
skill, you know. I sent that picture to the Royal Academy, and they did me
the honour to--ar--reject it.
_Culch._ (_vaguely_). An--er--honour, indeed.--(_In despair, as_ Mr. B.
_rises._)--You--You're not _going_!
_Mr. B._ (_consolingly_). Only into the garden, for coffee. I observe you
are interested in Art. We will--ar--resume this conversation later.
[_Rises;_ Miss PRENDERGAST _rises too, and goes towards the garden._
_Culch._ (_as he follows, hastily_). I must get this business over--if I
can. But I wish I knew exactly _how_ much to tell her. It's really very
awkward--between the two of them. I'm afraid I've been a little too
precipitate.
_In the Garden; a few minutes later_.
_Miss Prend._ (_who has retired to fetch her glasses, with gracious
playfulness_). Well, Mr. CULCHARD, and how has my knight performed his
lady's behests?
_Culch._ May I ask _which_ knight you refer to?
_Miss P._ (_slightly changing countenance_). Which! Then--you know there is
another? Surely there is nothing in that circumstance to--to offend--or
hurt you?
_Culch._ Offended? (_Considers whether this would be a good line to take._)
Hardly _that_. Hurt? Well, I confess to being pained--very much pained, to
discover that I was unconsciously pitted--against PODBURY!
_Miss P._. But why? I have expressed no preference as yet. You can scarcely
have become so attached to him that you dread the result of a successful
rivalry!
_Culch._ (_to himself_). It's a loop-hole--I'll try it. (_Aloud._) You have
divined my feeling exactly. In--er--obeying your commands, I have learned
to know PODBURY better--to see in him a sterling nature, more worthy, in
some respects, than my own. And I know how deeply he has centred all his
hopes upon you, Miss PRENDERGAST. Knowing, seeing that as I--er--_do_, I
feel that--whatever it costs me--I cannot run the risk of wrecking
the--er--life's happiness of so good a fellow. So you must really allow me
to renounce vows accepted under--er--an imperfect comprehension of
the--er--facts! [_Wipes his brow._
_Miss P._ This is quite too Quixotic. Reflect, Mr. CULCHARD. Is such a
sacrifice demanded of you? I assure you I am perfectly neutral at present.
I _might_ prefer Mr. PODBURY. I _really_ don't know. And--and I don't
_like_ losing one of my suitors like this!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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