Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 156, April 30, 1919Various
General
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 156, April 30, 1919
Various
English wit and humor -- Periodicals
_The Owner of a subdued nondescript (calling Assistant)._ Will you ask
this lady to kindly keep her dog from trying to kill mine, please?
_The Other Lady (whose dog, a powerful and truculent Airedale, seems to
have conceived a sudden and violent dislike for the nondescript)._
Yours must have done _something_ to irritate him--he's generally such a
good-tempered dog.
_Assistant (to the Airedale, which is barking furiously and straining at
his lead)._ 'Ere, sherrup, will you? Allow me, Mum. I'll put 'im where
he can 'ave 'is good temper out to 'imself. _(He hustles the Airedale to
a small office, where he shuts him in--to his and his owner's intense
disapproval. A fox-terrier in another customer's arms becomes hysterical
with sympathy and utters ear-rending barks.)_ Oh, kindly get that dawg
to sherrup, Mum, or we'll 'ave the lot of 'em orf; or could you look in
some day when he's more collected?
_Another Lady_. I say, I want a muzzle for my dog.
_Assistant (sardonically)._ You surprise me, Mum! We're very near sold
out, but if you'll let me 'ave a look at your dawg, p'r'aps--
_The Lady_. Oh, I haven't _brought_ him. Left him at Barnes.
_Assistant. 'Ave_ yer, Mum? Well, yer see, I can't run down to
Barnes--not just now I can't.
_The Lady_. No, but I thought--he's rather a large dog, a Pekinese
spaniel.
_Assistant_. Then I couldn't fit 'im if 'e was 'ere, cos 'e'd want a
short muzzle and we've run out o' them.
_A Customer with a Pekinese_. Then will you find me a muzzle for _this_
one?
_Assistant (with resigned despair)._ You jest 'eard me say we 'ad no
short muzzles, Mum. If you don't mind waiting 'ere an hour or two I'll
send a man to the factory in a taxi to bring back a fresh stock--if
they've got any, which I don't guarantee.
_The Customer with the Pekinese._ But I saw some leather muzzles in the
window; one of those would do beautifully.
_Assistant._ I shall 'ave great pleasure in selling you one, Mum, on'y
Gover'ment says they've got to be wire. 'Owever, it's _your_ risk, not
mine. Well, since you ask me, I think you _'ad_ better wait.
_A Customer (carrying a large brown-and-white dog with lop ears and
soulful eyes)._ I've been kept waiting here two hours, and I think it's
high time--
_Assistant._ If you'll bring 'im along to the back shop, Mum, I _may_
have one left his size.
_A Lady with a lovely complexion and an unlovely griffon (to her
companion)._ So fussy and tiresome of the Government bringing in muzzles
again after all these years!
_Her Companion._ Oh, I don't _know_. We've had a mysterious dog running
about snapping in our district for days.
_The Lady with the complexion._ Ah, but _this_ poor darling _never_
snaps, and, besides, he hasn't been used to muzzles in Belgium. You
needn't _mention_ it, but I got a friend of mine to smuggle him over for
me--such a _dear_ boy, he'll do anything I ask him to.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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