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Read Ebook: Punch or the London Charivari Volume 103 October 15 1892 by Various Burnand F C Francis Cowley Editor
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Ebook has 106 lines and 11683 words, and 3 pages
"And why not?" replied the Critic. "Are you not worth it? Do you not devote your energy to it? Must you not live?"
And, having said this, the Reviewer visited another place of business. This time he had entered the office of a Stockbroker.
"Of course it is rather anxious work sometimes," said the alternative representative of a bull and a bear. "But it pays in the long run. I manage to keep up a house in South Kensington, and a carriage and pair, out of my takings."
"Again, why not?" responded the Critic. "You have a wife and family. Must you not live?" Then the Critic visited Cheesemongers, and Bankers, Solicitors, and Upholsterers. At last, he reached the modest abode of an Author.
"Ah!" said he, in a tone of contempt; "you write books and plays! Why?
"Why, to sell them," answered the Poet, in a faltering voice.
"Sell them!" echoed the Critic, in tones of thunder. "What do you mean by that?"
"Why, one must live!"
"Quite true!" murmured the Author; "indeed, you are not!"
"But am I not a man and a brother? Do I not get hungry, like anyone else? Have I not a wife and family?"
"That is entirely beside the question," persisted the Critic. "All you have to consider are the claims of Art. Now, Art is not to be served by paid votaries."
"Then I suppose am unworthy," replied the Author, mournfully shaking his head. Well, let us exchange places. You shall be the Author, and I will be the Critic."
"And why not? If I am to write, why am I not to be paid?"
"Because it is beneath the dignity of an Author to write with a view to obtaining cash."
"Indeed! Well, I am tired of work. You have nothing to do but criticise. Let us swap positions."
"Are you mad?" shouted the Critic. "Why, I am fond of my work. You don't imagine I am going to give up my salary to you? Why, it would demoralise you. I know the drawback of the system." And the Author applied himself to the study of the New Criticism, and it seemed as great a mystery to him as ever.
LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.
DEAR MR. PUNCH,
Yours, devotedly, LADY GAY.
CESAREWITCH SELECTION.
P.S.--This advice is not intended for confirmed Topers.
"SUR LE TAPIS."--If the new Carpet Knight, Sir BLONDEL MAPLE--which is our troubadourish way of spelling it--be exceptionally successful on the Turf, isn't he just the man to "make his 'pile' and cut it"?
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.
CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOR YOUNG SHOOTERS.
In our last , we indicated very briefly the conversational possibilities of the Gun. It must be observed, that this treatise makes no pretensions to be exhaustive. Something must, after all, be left to the ingenuity of the young shooter who desires to talk of sport. All that these hints profess, is to put him in the way of shining, if there is a certain amount of natural brightness to begin upon. The next subject will be--
CARTRIDGES.
To a real talker, this subject offers an infinite variety of opportunities. First, you can begin to fight the battle of the powders, as thus:--
"What powder are you shooting with this year, CHALMERS?"
"Schultze."
"How do you find it kill?"
"Deadly--absolutely-deadly: best lot I've ever had."
You need not say anything more now. The discussion will get along beautifully without you, for you will have drawn, , the man who very much prefers E.C., which he warrants to kill at a distance no other powder can attain to; , the man who uses E.C. or Schultze for his right barrel, and always puts a black-powder cartridge into his left; , the detester of innovations, who means to go on using the good old black-powder for both barrels as long as he lives; and , the man who is trying an entirely new patent powder, infinitely superior to anything else ever invented, and is willing to give everybody, not only the address of the maker, but half a dozen cartridges to try.
"Shot." Conversationally much more valuable than powder. "Very few people agree," says a well-known authority; "as to what is the best size of shot to use, and many forget that the charge which will suit one gun, and one description of game, will not do as well for another. Usually, one gun will shoot better one size of shot than will another, and we may safely say, that large bores shoot large shot better than do smaller bores." This last sentence has the beautiful ring of a profound truism. Lay it by for use, and bring it out with emphasis in the midst of such disagreement and forgetfulness as are here alluded to. "If a shooter is a good shot," says the same classic, "he may use No. 6 early in the season, and only for partridges--afterwards, nothing but No. 5. To the average shot, No. 6 throughout the season." This sounds dreadfully invidious. If a good shot cannot kill grouse with No. 6, how on earth is a merely average shot to do the trick? But, in these matters, the conversationalist finds his opportunity. Only they must not be pushed too far. There was once a party of genial, light-hearted friends, who went out shooting. Early in the day, slight differences of opinion made themselves observed with reference to the size of shot. Lunch found them still more or less good-tempered, but each obstinately determined not to give way even by a fraction on the point under discussion.
Join the gay throng That goes talking along, For we'll all go romancing to-day.
DOE VERSUS ROE.
For students of the law to "eat Their terms" is obviously right, But to devour the books themselves Is impolite.
Unfortunately Mr. STREET. Who planned the legal edif-ce, Designed a splendid trap for men, But not for mice.
No Ushers 'ush them; they consume The stiffest calf you ever saw, Developing, these curious beasts, A taste for Law.
They fill--perhaps--the box wherein, Twelve bothered men have often sat, And try, with every proper form, Some absent cat.
A fore-mouse probably they choose, The culprit's advocate deride, And fix upon that cat the guilt Of mouseycide.
At the Refreshment-bars, perchance, They eat the cakes, and drink the milk, And in the Robing-room indulge In "taking silk."
The Judges' sacred Bench itself From scampering feet is not exempt; With calmness they commit, of Court, Frightful "contempt."
WHY THE FRENCH WON THE BOAT-RACE.
Because the English Eight had had no practice on the Seine.
Because the Londoners had had a fearful passage crossing the Channel.
Because they smashed their boat, and had to have it repaired.
Because the English steering might have been better.
Because the weather was intolerable, and chiefly affected the Englishmen.
Because the Londoners had no chance of pulling together.
Because the French knew the course better than the English.
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