The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. 01, July 4, 1840Various
History
The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. 01, July 4, 1840
Various
Ireland -- Periodicals
A hardier customer came next, and flourished his whip the moment he
bought it, at some weary and frightened lambs which a butcher's boy was
urging forward through every obstacle, with a bludgeon, towards their
slaughter-house. A half-starved kitten, which had ventured within the
threshold of a shop, where in piteous posture it seemed to crave
protection and a drop of milk, caught the quick eye of a fourth urchin,
just as he had untwisted his lash, and was immediately started from its
momentary place of refuge by the pursuing imp. A fifth came up, a big,
knowing-looking chap, about twelve years old, who, after a slight and
contemptuous examination of them, loudly remarked to their owner, "Vy,
these ere vhips a'n't no good to urt no vun--I'm blowed hif they his."
You young tyrant! thought I to myself. I was moving off in disgust, when
a benevolent-looking gentleman came up and was about to buy one for the
happy, open-countenanced boy, who called him uncle, when I took the
liberty of putting one of my forefingers to my nose, as the most ready
but quiet method of indicating my desire to prevent the completion of
his purpose. The gentleman took my hint at once, supposing in all
probability that there was some mystery in the matter--perhaps that I
wished to save him from the awkward consequences of purchasing stolen
goods, and walked away. I followed him, and overtaking him, touched the
rim of my beaver, as nearly as I could imitate the London mode, and at
once said, "My dear sir, excuse me for obtruding my advice upon you, but
as _you_ have the organ of benevolence strongly developed, and your
little nephew has already indication of its future prominence, if duly
exercised, I thought it better that you should not put a whip into his
hands, lest his better feelings should be counter-influenced. Look
there," continued I, as we reached the steep part of Holborn-hill, "see
that pair of miserable horses endeavouring to keep their footing on the
steep and slippery pavement; hear the constant reverberations of the
driver's whip, which he applies so unmercifully to keep them from
falling, by the most forced and unnatural efforts; see them straining
every muscle to drag along their burden, while they pant from pain,
terror, and exhaustion; look at the frequent welts on their poor skins.
Depend upon it, the fellow who drives had a penny whip for his first
plaything!" The gentleman looked rather earnestly at me. "You are right,
sir," said he; "early initiation in the modes of cruelty"----"Precisely,"
said I. "The boy-child is taught to terrify any animal that comes within
his reach, as soon as he is able to do so; his parents, sponsors, nurses,
friends, are severally disposed to give him for his first present a toy
whip, and he soon acquires dexterity in using it. Man, naturally
overbearing and cruel, is rendered infinitely more so by education. He
first flogs his wooden horse (the little boy pricked up his ears, and I
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