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twg_000000041600 | public in general, is too mendacious for refutation; and when the reckless editor of the periodical in question gravely announces that he can never read PUNCHINELLO without laughing at its contents, it will be readily seen that he goes so far as to make use of the truth to serve his wicked purposes. But the descent which this shameless conductor | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041601 | of a journal, confessedly the organ of our ignorant masses, has made into the private life of PUNCHINELLO, is without precedent. He states that for the first fourteen years of his life, PUNCHINELLO was, to all intents and purposes, a person of little or no fortune, and that he depended entirely upon his parents for support; that, until he had | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041602 | reached his fifth birthday, he had absolutely no knowledge of English literature, and was entirely ignorant of even the rudiments of the classics; that he never paid one cent of income tax at that period of his life; and that his belief in the fundamental principles of political economy was, at that time, doubted by all who knew him best! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041603 | Are such statements as these to be submitted to by a man of honor? Never! PUNCHINELLO dares the recreant editor of the dirty sheet to do his worst! Of that base man he could tell much which would render him unfit for the association of any person living, but he forbears. This much, however, he will say. It is well | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041604 | known that the said calumniator did, at many periods of his life, make use of the services of a _calceolarius_. Think of that, freemen of America! He has often been known to submit to indignities, such as nose-pulling from the hands of a common _tonsor_, and has been frequently in such a condition that he could not appear in public | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041605 | without the assistance of a _sartor_! Is it fitting that a high-toned journalist should engage in petty recriminations with such a one? "Revenge," says JAMES MURDOCK, "is the sweetest morsel cooked in its own gravy, with _sauce moyennaise_." "Yes," said Dean SWIFT, "and let us have some, and a little gin, say five fingers, and a trifle of milk." Thus | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041606 | it is that we regard the editor of the _Encyclopedia_. CARLYLE remarks, "Many a vessel, (for if not a Vessel, then surely we, or our progenitors, in counting ships, and the assumptive floatative mechanisms of anterior and past ages; or as the Assyrians [under-estimating the force of the correlative elements] declared a bridging, or a going over [not of seas | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041607 | merely, but of those chaotic gaps of the mind] are all wrong enough indeed,) has never got there." We also think of that editor in this way, and trust that enough has been said to make it plain that PUNCHINELLO is not to be attacked with impunity by every little journal of the day. * * * * * Encouraging | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041608 | for Travellers. The managers of a leading railroad announce that they take passengers "to all principal points of the West without change." Such unusual liberality, at a time when Change is so scarce with many people, ought to insure for that railroad a great success. * * * * * Alike, but Different. Poetry sometimes has a Ring in it. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041609 | So has a pig's nose. * * * * * THE PLAYS AND SHOWS. Military dramas might, as a rule, be called with equal propriety millinery dramas. In other words, their success is generally due to their costumes. In this respect they afford a marked contrast to ballet spectacles. The latter give us inanity without clothes; the former, inanity in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041610 | particularly gorgeous clothes. Which, again, leads to the further remark that the difference between the two styles of inanity is, after all, a clothes thing. This is a joke. The _Lancers_, now running at WALLACK'S, (a proceeding which implies no want of bravery on the part of that distinguished corps,) is, however, unlike most military dramas, inasmuch as it is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041611 | a bright and brilliant play. Moreover, it is acted by the best members of the Company in their very best manner. Miss LOUISA MOORE, whose golden hair and silvery voice become an actress of genuine mettle as well as gentle grace, is ESTELLE, the heroine; Miss EMILY MESTAYER is the Commanding Sister of Col. EPE who is personated by Mr. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041612 | FISHER; Mr. WYNDHAM is the Graceless Private, who, having spent his last penny, enlists in the Lancers and spends vast sums in beneficiary beer in company with his comrades; Mr. WILLIAMSON is the Kindly Sergeant; Mr. RINGGOLD is the Genial Artist, whose velvet coat suggests that he has recently managed a Starr _opera bouffe_ enterprise; and Mr. STODDART is happy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041613 | in the congenial character of a Clumsy Trumpeter. If any speculative manager pretends that he has a better hypothetical cast in his eye than the present cast of the _Lancers_, let him be given to the surgical tormentors to be operated upon for malignant _strabismus_. The curtain rises upon the Genial Artist searching for his friend, the Graceless Private, in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041614 | the empty jugs and glasses at the _Golden Sun Inn_. To him enters the Clumsy Trumpeter. _Genial Artist_. "Where can he be? It--it must, and yet--" _Clumsy Trumpeter (without Stoddart's usual oath.)_ "He's got 'em. Hallo! friend. Do you want any thing?" _Genial Artist_. "Yes--no--that is--or rather it isn't--" (_Exit, while Trumpeter makes faces at the gallery_.) _Enter_ ESTELLE _and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041615 | her maid, disguised as peasants, and pursued by a troop of lancers_. _All the Lancers_. "Let _me_ kiss 'em." _Both the Girls_. "Scr-r-r-r-e-e-e-ch." (_Enter Graceless Private_.) _Graceless Private_. "I will protect you. Get out, all you fellows." (_They get out_.) A flirtation between the Private and ESTELLE is at once begun, from which it appears that she came to catch | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041616 | a glimpse of the Colonel, who wants to marry her. She and the Private sit on the table, and fall instantaneously in love. As soon as they are well in, the Lancers return, and ESTELLE flies. Graceless Private, having no money, pays for the co-inebriation of the entire corps, and while engaged in this praiseworthy occupation is found by the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041617 | Genial Artist, who makes him promise to attend a ball at a neighboring _chteau_. Enter Kindly Sergeant, who arrests the Graceless Private, and puts him in the guard-house. Curtain falls amid faces from STODDART (without his usual oath) and applause from the audience. _Veteran Play-goer_. "Well, I've seen STODDART in every thing he has played this year, and this is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041618 | the first time he has failed to swear on every ineligible occasion." _Young Lady who frequents Wallack's_. "Who is that Clumsy Trumpeter? I don't know him." _Accompanying Young Man_. "Why, don't you know STODDART?" _Young Lady_. "Nonsense; that isn't STODDART. Why, he hasn't sworn once." _Fast Young Man_. "STODDART isn't himself to-night. He hasn't the spirit to swear. Did you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041619 | hear the good thing he said Monday night about Miss MOORE? It was devilish good. Says he--" (_Repeats an indelicate joke_.) _Irate Old Gentleman who overhears the story_. "If he said that, sir, he ought to have been hissed off the stage, sir; and turned out of the company, sir! It was an insult to an estimable lady, and an | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041620 | outrage on the audience, sir!" _The second act takes place in the salon of ESTELLE. The Colonel and his Commanding Sister lay siege to_ ESTELLE'S _heart. Graceless Private, in evening dress, countermines the Colonel's forces and routs them, wading deeper than before in the exhilarating surf of love, hand in hand with_ ESTELLE. (_This metaphor has been leased for a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041621 | term of years to a distinguished hydropathic poet.) Clumsy Trumpeter drops books and things all over the room, and recognises the Graceless Private. Finally the Colonel and the latter quarrel, and go out in the back yard to fight, where the Private is wounded in the arm. The Colonel returns and announces the result to_ ESTELLE, _who swoons, or at | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041622 | all events, makes an admirable feint of so doing. Curtain._ _Fast Young Man_. "STODDART didn't try his good joke to-night. He'll say something yet, though, before the play is over." _Every body Else_. "Did you ever see better acting than WYNDHAM'S and Miss MOORE'S? And how capitally FISHER and Miss MESTAYER are playing? STODDART positively hasn't sworn yet. What can | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041623 | be the matter with him?" _Inquiring Maiden, to her travelled lover_. "Are the uniforms just like those of the real French Lancers?" _Travelled Lover_. "Very nearly. There is one button too many on the front of the Colonel's coat. I know the regiment well. It's the crack artillery regiment in the French service." _Act III. shows us the Graceless Private | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041624 | brought before the Colonel for examination. He feigns drunkenness, but the Colonel suspects him of having been his adversary at the ball_. ESTELLE _visits the Colonel in order to save her Private lover. He is proved to have broken his arrest, and is sentenced to death_. ESTELLE _offers to marry the Colonel if he will pardon the Private. The latter's | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041625 | discharge arrives in the nick of time, and as he is thus beyond the reach of the Colonel's vengeance, he graciously pardons him, and joins his hand to that of_ ESTELLE. _He remarks--or ought to--"Bless you, my children." Every body suddenly finds out that every body else is noble and generous. And so the curtain falls upon a happy garrison, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041626 | including a Trumpeter who has not sworn a single oath_. _One Half of the Audience_. "How do you like it? I like it so much." _The Other Half_. "I like it immensely." _Chorus from Every body_. "Why didn't STODDART swear?" _Answering Echo from the Tipperary Hills_. "Because WALLACK has told him that the public won't stand it any longer." And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041627 | the public is right. Mr. STODDART is an exceptionally able actor, but of late he has grown intolerably coarse and vulgar while on the stage. His profanity has disgraced himself and the theatre, and his gratuitous insult to an estimable lady, who had the misfortune to appear in the same scene with him on Monday night, should have secured his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041628 | instant dismissal from the company, and his perpetual banishment to _Tammany_ or _Tony Pastor's_. Let him turn over a new leaf at once. He does not swear in the present play, and the fact is creditable to him. He is a gentleman in private life; let him be a gentleman on the stage. By so doing he will soon be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041629 | recognized as one of the best comedians of the day. And PUNCHINELLO will be the first to praise him when he lays aside the unnecessary vulgarity with which he has latterly bid for the applause of the gallery. MATADOR. * * * * * THE RELIGION OF TEMPERANCE. Says Poet to Parson--To save men from drinking, Not many religions are | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041630 | good to my thinking; To be sure a good Baptist a man of true grace is, But a Hard Shell, my brother's the hardest of cases. Your Shouter's too noisy for temperance talking, Your Come-outer too harsh for right temperate walking. A Quaker's not steady enough on his beam-ends, And a Shaker is bad for _delirium tremens_. But of all | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041631 | the hard drinkers religion has warmed, To my mind the most hopeful's the _German Reformed_. * * * * * [Illustration: THE PET DOGS OF NEW-YORK PRESENT THEIR COMPLIMENTS, WITH THE ABOVE CUT, TO MR. BERGH, AND REQUEST THAT HE WILL CUR-TAIL THE SPORTS OF THOUGHTLESS CHILDREN WHO INSIST UPON PLAYING AT "HORSE" WITH THEM.] * * * * * | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041632 | Logical. One PULLMAN, who preaches the "milk of the word," (not without gin, PUNCHINELLO supposes,) declares that the BIBLE is full of lies. Well, according to his own view of it, PULLMAN must be full of Scripture. * * * * * The Real Fact. Mr. COLFAX, says the Cincinnati Gazette, intends to call his new-born son CASABLANCA, the Vice-President | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041633 | having once "stood on a burning deck," etc. PUNCHINELLO discovers a shrewder reason. The plain English for Casablanca is White-House. * * * * * Concealed Weapons. Detroit drunkards, says an exchange, use a stocking with a stone in it to avoid arrest--just as if a hat "with a brick in it" were not enough! * * * * * | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041634 | Written With a Steal Pen. So great is the habit among editors of cribbing from each other, that if one were to write an article about an egg another would immediately Poach it. * * * * * The Battle of Hastings. The fight between the _Commercial Advertiser_ and THEODORE TILTON. * * * * * Triumphs of the Chisel. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041635 | The Wall street "busts." Good judges pronounce them Per Phidias. * * * * * What an Asthmatic Artist can not Draw. A long breath. * * * * * "The American Working-woman's Union" Most Sought After. MARRIAGE. * * * * * The Latest Edition of "Shoo! Fly." "MOSQUITO" at Niblo's. * * * * * THE CONGRESSMAN TO | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041636 | HIS CRITICS. Well, talk, if you like; I suppose it's your way; Each citizen, surely, should say all his say; _I_ did just so, when I'd nothing to do; And if _I_ felt like doing so, why shouldn't _you_! It's republican, pleasant, and safe, to find fault; If a man can't do _that_, why he's not worth his salt. And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041637 | never, since critics (and fleas) learned their powers, Was a country more blest with such vermin than ours. You've learned much about your old friend, it is said; The farther I'm from you, the plainer I'm read! When "one of the people" comes here to make laws, The "people" disown him. Now, what is the cause? You say I'm not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041638 | "dignified." Well, friends--are you? My language, my manners, are rough, it is true; My tones, and my jokes, (since you say it,) are coarse; But very few streams rise above their own source. If we're all "politicians," and they are such trash As you have declared them, why were you so rash As to give us your votes? What! will | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041639 | nobody "run" But a "mere politician?" Why, then we're undone! Come, come--this is nonsense! Be fair, my good sirs! Let us look at this question. Suppose it occurs That a long, prosy speech is about to be made; If you say, "Stay and hear it," must you be obeyed? But ours is a "serious business." True! And so are some | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041640 | other things serious, too! Such as courtships, and dinners, and headaches, and blues, And sight-seeing friends, whom 'tis death[] to refuse! Now, many of us (though it should not be said!) Are really stupid, and haven't much head. We don't take that view of our duty that _you_ do; We're often so bothered we don't know what _to_ do! Our | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041641 | votes look decided--as though we did know; But that's because BUTLER or SCHENCK voted so. Such points may come up, in the course of the day, As would puzzle the Seraphim some, I should say! Besides, gentle friends! did you ever think so? Perhaps we are paying you all that we owe. If you want better service, why send better | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041642 | men, And be better yourselves. It will all be right, then. [Footnote : Political death, of course.] * * * * * Come on, Ladies! An Anti-mustache movement has begun in Boston. PUNCHINELLO to explain that it begins altogether with the ladies, and is, of course, Right Against the mustaches. * * * * * For Lunatics Only. The latest | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041643 | whim of the Lunatics in one of the Indiana Asylums is the notion that they can design and build opera-houses. Well, we have lots of crazy architecture, and more than one gentleman has acknowledged himself insane for investing in opera-houses. But PUNCHINELLO thinks that the tastes of the insane would be better encouraged if directed to the building of Courts | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041644 | of Justice. Every Court-house thus constructed, would be a monument to the Plea of Insanity. * * * * * GLIMPSES OF FORTUNE. You may not think so, my dear PUNCHINELLO, but it is true. I have had them. I am not one of your bloated aristocrats--just at the present moment--but I know as well as any one what WHITTIER | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041645 | meant when he said "it might have been." As an instance of this, I will just state that it has not been a very long time since, in looking over the columns of one of our principal dailies, I saw something among the personals which seemed to touch my interests in, a very decided way. I often look over the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041646 | "Personals," for I know well the connection between fortune and the Press. I have not forgotten the success of A.T. STEWART and many other millionaires, and their dependence on the newspapers--but never until that day had I seen any thing in that mystic column which could possibly be construed to apply to inc. As for the rest of the paper, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041647 | I knew that there was nothing to interest me there. You see I was after Fortune. The advertisement to which I refer road as follows: "If the gentleman in a dark hat and gray pantaloons, who, in a Broadway stage, one day last week, passed up the fare for a lady with blue eyes and high-heeled boots, will call at | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041648 | Dash street, second floor, he will hear of something to his advantage. A.R.R." Now, it so happened, that during the whole of the preceding week I had worn a black hat and gray pantaloons; indeed, I had them on yet, and, to tell the truth, I had no others. Therefore, this part of the case was all clear enough. There | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041649 | was no reason why the gentleman inquired for should not be me. I had certainly ridden in a stage in the last week, and I remember very well that I passed up the fare for lady with blue eyes. I performed a similar service for several ladies; but one of them, I am sure, had blue eyes. As to the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041650 | high-heeled boots I suppose she wore them, but how was I to know that? At all events it would be a piece of the most culpable indifference to my welfare to neglect this chance. Fortune! and through a lady, too! To think of it! The promised advantage might be great or small, but whatever it was, it would be most | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041651 | welcome. And the honor, too! A piece of positive advantage for an act of manly gallantry! I immediately put on that black hat, and with those identical gray trowsers upon my legs, I strode down to Dash street, and mounted instantly to the second floor. As there was but one entrance door from the stair-way on this floor, I felt | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041652 | certain that I had found the right place. The business of Mr. A.R.R. was evidently a very profitable one, for his room was quite full of people. I inquired of a boy for the author of the notice I held in my hand, (I had carefully cut it from the paper,) and was informed that this was the right place, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041653 | and that the gentleman would see me in a few moments. I took a seat and regarded the persons who were standing and sitting about the room. They were all men, and in a few minutes I discovered, to my great surprise, that they all wore black hats and gray pantaloons! I must admit, that when I made this discovery, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041654 | I experienced a very peculiar sensation, as if some one had suddenly dropped a little ice-water down my back. Was it possible that all these men were here in answer to that advertisement, which I considered addressed to me alone? There were all sorts of them; old gentlemen with heads grayer than their pants; young fellows who looked like clerks; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041655 | and middle-aged men, who seemed like very respectable heads of families. Was it possible that each one of those individuals had, in the last week, passed up the fare of a blue-eyed lady with high-heeled boots? And did each one of them expect to enjoy that advantage for which I came here? One thing was certain; they did not announce | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041656 | to each other their business, but looked at their watches and tapped their boots, and knitted their brows as if each one of them had come on very particular business, which had nothing to do with the affairs of the general crowd. But all those gray trowsers! There was no concealing them. A door, leading into an adjoining room, now | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041657 | opened quickly, and Mr. A.R.R. made his appearance. No one doubted that he was the man, for he bowed politely, and seemed to expect the company. He was a tall, thin, and well-dressed man, and held in his hand a small package. Instantly upon his appearance every man in the room stuck his thumb and forefinger into his vest pocket, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041658 | and pulling out a little piece of printed paper, said, "Sir, I called--" A.R.R. waved his hand. "Gentlemen," said he, "I know why you called, and you will allow me to remark--" "But look here," said a tall man with a blue cravat. "I think that I am the person you want to see, and as I am in a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041659 | hurry, I would like to see you for a few minutes in private." Dozens of angry eyes were now directed upon this presumptuous individual, and dozens of angry voices were about to break forth when the benign A.R.R. again waved his hand. "Gentlemen," said he, "I wish to see you all. No one more than another. I have reason to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041660 | believe that every one of you is the person to whom that advertisement referred. I see you are all gentlemen, and you would not have made your appearance here had you not fulfilled the conditions mentioned in the paper." Here was a smothered hum, which seemed to precede a general outbreak, but A.R.R., blandly smiling, continued: "Gentlemen, do not become | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041661 | impatient. What I have to say is to the advantage of every one of you. You all move in good society--I can see that--and you therefore are well aware of some of the penalties of social pleasures and high living. Consequently, gentlemen," and now he spoke very fast, as if fearful of interruption, "you must have, all of you, experienced | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041662 | some of the evils of indigestion, and it is to relieve these that I have prepared my Binocular Barberry Bitters--" A roar of rage here broke forth from every man of us, and a rush was made towards the smiling impostor, but he quickly slipped through the door behind him, and locked it in our faces. And then, before we | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041663 | could rush from the room where we had been so shamefully duped, the head of A.R.R. appeared at a little window in the partition-wall, and he called out: "Gentlemen, this mixture is, as my initials declare, a Radical Relief, and retails at one dollar per bottle, I hope you will take some of my circulars home with you," and he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041664 | threw among the crowd the package of circulars which he had held in his hand. This, O friend PUNCHINELLO, was only one of my Glimpses of Fortune. I may yet see the jade more nearly. IMPECUNE. * * * * * Query. Under the conditions of the Fifteenth Amendment, should things continue to be put down in Black and White? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041665 | * * * * * [Illustration: "COMPARISONS ARE ODIOUS." _Fond Mother._ "YES, HE'S A PRETTY GOOD BOY, BUT HE DON'T TAKE TO HIS LETTERS." _Squire._ "WELL, HE OUGHTER, FOR HIS MOUTH IS LIKE THE SLIT OF A POST-OFFICE BOX."] * * * * * [Illustration: A TABLEAU OF THE DAY. GENERAL DANA, WHO HAS BROUGHT THE FIRE OF THE "SUN" | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041666 | TO BEAR UPON EVERY BODY, NOW BEGINS TO REALIZE THE FORCE OF THE PROVERB--"FOLKS WHO LIVE IN GLASS HOUSES SHOULD NOT THROW STONES."] * * * * * THE INDIAN QUESTION. [AS VIEWED IN THE WEST.] This is _our_ business, understand! You Eastern folks, with tempers bland All get your views at second-hand. We are the ones that take the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041667 | brunt Of every lively Indian-hunt, So don't be angry if we're blunt. If any body's scalped it's _us!_ So we've a well-earned right to cuss, And you've _no_ right to make a fuss. Talk as you please about their "rights;" That don't include their coming nights, And cutting out our lungs and lights. You get your wife and children shot! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041668 | (Here it might happen, like us not,) You'll make your mind up on the spot. "Humanity" 's played out for _you!_ You've got some active work to do; No doubt you'll see it well put through. Until you've settled that small bill, (As honorable debtors will,) We fancy you will not keep still. You will admit the tender plea Of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041669 | "broken faith;" but when you see Your Red Skin, you won't let him be! Just so with us. We don't go back Of _our_ affair! We were not slack In justice to this Devil's pack! They settle with the wrong concern; And as they never, _never'll_ learn, We shoot 'em, and don't care a _dern!_ * * * * * | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041670 | [Illustration: EDITORIAL WASHING-DAY IN NEW-YORK.] EDITORIAL WASHING-DAY. Observe PUNCHINELLO'S Cartoon, in which you shall behold the editorial laundresses of New-York city having a washy time of it all around. There is a, shriek of objurgation in the air, and a flutter of soiled linen on the breeze. Granny MARBLE, to the extreme left of the picture, clenches her fists over | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041671 | the pungent suds, and looks fight at Granny JONES, of the _Times_. The beaming phiz of Granny GREELEY looms up between the two, like the sun in a fog. But the real _Sun_ in a fog is to be seen to the extreme right. There you behold Granny DANA, shaking her "brawny bunch of fives" in the face of Granny | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041672 | YOUNG, whose manner of wringing out the linen, you will observe, is up to the highest _Standard_ of that branch of art. Further away, Granny TILTON flutters her linen with spiteful flourish, nettled by the vituperation of Granny HASTINGS, who hangs up her _Commercial_ clothes on the line. The _tableau_ is an instructive one; and it is to be hoped | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041673 | that all the U-Lye soaps used by the washerwomen is used up by this time, and that they will replace it with some having a sweeter perfume. * * * * * BOOK NOTICES. MRS. JERNINGHAM'S JOURNAL. New-York: Charles Scribner & Company. A very cleverly-written narrative, in smooth verse, detailing the experience of a bride who took to flirting early | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041674 | in her matrimonial career, but was saved from coming to grief by the decisive action of a stern husband. The ontains a capital lesson for the Girl of the Period, whose follies are satirized in it with a sharp pen. * * * * * NOTICE. The attention of the Public is requested to PUNCHINELLO No. , which will be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041675 | issued upon Thursday, May 26th. It will be a very brilliant number, illustrated with flights of fancy by ten comic artists. In PUNCHINELLO No. will be commenced a new burlesque serial, "The Mystery of Mister E. Drood," written expressly for this paper by the celebrated humorist, ORPHEUS C. KERR. * * * * * [Illustration: MAKING A HASH OF IT. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041676 | _Customer_. "I THOUGHT YOU HAD A GOOD PLACE WITH MR. ASHE; WHY ARE YOU GOING TO LEAVE?" _Cockney Waiter_. "FACT IS, SIR, HASHE IS IN THE 'ABIT OF MAKING USE OF HODIOUS LANGUAGE TO HIS WAITERS, SIR, AND NO MAN OF HEDUCATION COULD STAND _THAT_, SIR, YOU KNOW, SIR."] * * * * * JUMBLES. MR. PUNCHINELLO, do you know | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041677 | when a woman is perfection itself? "No." I do. It is when she is from sixteen to nineteen. Of course you take her judgment. At sixteen she is the coming flower that has come--the first Rose of Summer, and about the best that may be looked for. Her ideas may not be solid, but they are expansive. Her mind may | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041678 | not make a very great show, but her hair (real and otherwise) is sure to. She is very deep in love--with herself. The supremest divinity is seen when she looks in the mirror. Call her ARABELLA if you like. ARABELLA is mistress of that portion of the dictionary which includes the common-place compliments of society. In her mouth they have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041679 | a common place, indeed. Some people call such utterances "stuff," "nonsense," "puerilities," but nobody is so prejudiced and unreliable as the above-named some people. They complacently think they know a thing or two, but that is all it amounts to. ARABELLA hasn't any doubt about her being perfection. Unfortunately there is a question about some matters in this world in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041680 | politics, religion, morality and other kindred things, but on the doctrine of perfection, as applied to her individual self, ARABELLA is clear and settled. Did any body, she says _sotto voce_, to herself, ever put vision on such an ensemble countenance? Were eyes ever more sparkling? Were ever dimples dimpler? Had ever peach such artistic hue, and teeth such pearly | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041681 | pearliness, and lips such positive sweetness, and brow such loveliness? We suppose not. ARABELLA is eighteen, is of elastic notions, sees life as a romance, believes the ground on which she walks ought to be grateful for the honor, and wonders if every body who goes out don't go straightway to talking rapturously about her. ARABELLA is a type--the type | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041682 | of a class of perfectionists. ARABELLA is neither a worm nor a butterfly, but the bridge between. For all this ARABELLA believes herself to be the best of butterflies, with the capacity to fly in the highest manner. At twenty-five her wings will be clipped, her colors will modify, her notions renovate, and her eyes open. She will perceive that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041683 | the doctrine of perfection is mythical, and angels upon earth only so in name. Going to church is a good thing. All good people go, and from good motives, of course. Mrs. BROWN, says a wicked gossip, goes to show a bonnet; Mrs. JONES her shawl; Mrs. SMITH her silk; Mrs. JENKINS her gloves and fan. No sane person believes | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041684 | that these ladies go for any such purpose. The case isn't presumable. They are nice, high-toned people, sit in $ pews, adore Rev. Dr. CANTWELL, and give very freely (of their husband's money) to the heathen in the uttermost corners of the earth. They prefer, good souls, to give to the heathen under the equator to those under their noses. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041685 | It is _not_ true that ladies go to church for the display of dress. It _is_ true Mrs. JONES does not wish to be outdone by Mrs. JENKINS, and isn't if STEWART can help it, but she is a good pious woman of simple tastes, though Mr. J. thinks she tastes rather often. Going to church is a good thing | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041686 | for example's sake. It is so nice and strengthening to reflect that, as the minister preaches piety, and you practice poetry, (with a pencil in the prayer-book,) you set an example to the rising generation. One can never do too much for the rising generation, though it often rises too frequently and too high. Besides, it encourages the minister. Only | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041687 | think of talking to emptiness instead of fulness--to people instead of plush. How can the dear Rev. SPLURGE SPLUTTER have the heart or tongue to drop his pearls of eloquence to the swine of empty pews? And how dreadful for the gifted soprano, Miss SCREECH, to tune her melodious voice to earless aisles! And then it is so easy to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041688 | "set" examples by sitting in soft pews, doing to church should be a matter of conscience. Every body not a dolt admits conscience to be a good thing, though a thing every body cannot boast of possessing. I like people of conscience--that is, I should like them if I knew any. It is such a nice thing to talk about--and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041689 | how much nicer to have. Mrs. TODD often wishes "to conscience" she could reach mine. I am sorry to say that at times Mrs. T. is an irreverent woman. She doesn't perceive that some where under that hairless, proud dome of mine there must be a conscience--I may proudly say, an imposing conscience. I said to Mrs. T. one day, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041690 | "I _have_ an imposing conscience," and she really thought so--adding the cruel expression that she didn't know of any thing about me but _was_ imposing, and that she first became aware of the sad fact when she married me. TIMOTHY TODD. * * * * * THE REIGN OF COUPS. The situation of France is always striking. This is because | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041691 | its people are always being struck with a succession of Napoleonic ideas. They labor, for example, under a constant _coup d'etat_. Their Press is the victim of a regular _coup de main_; their Strikes are daily evidences of _coups de mains_; their Legislature suffers continually from _coup de thtre_; and their Emperor is perpetually threatened with a _coup de grace_. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041692 | The energies of Frenchmen are not imprisoned; no, they are only _couped_. * * * * * ELEVATED STATESMANSHIP--INSOBRIETY THE BEST POLICY. Sir JOHN MACDONALD, the Premier of Canada, though an eccentric leader, is a happy illustration of the most elevated statecraft. "He has been drunk," says the Toronto _Globe_, "for several days, and incapacitated for public affairs." Considering what | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041693 | Canadian affairs are (including Sir JOHN,) this does not follow. Evidently it is not his policy to keep sober. But Sir JOHN is often drunk, says the _Globe_; he was tight before Prince ARTHUR, and he rushes to the bottle whenever the Fenians give alarm. Now this strikes us as very good policy. It helps us to see how convenient | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041694 | it was for Sir JOHN to magnify a few O'BRIENS and O'SHAUGHNESSYS into an army with green banners, and how opportunely the Dominion became intoxicated with its fears. * * * * * [Illustration: A POWERFUL PROTECTOR. _Mother_. "WHY, ROSIE, HOW LATE YOU ARE TO-DAY!" _Rosie_. "YES, MA, BUT I COULDN'T HELP IT. THERE WAS A POOR LITTLE GIRL AT | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041695 | SCHOOL WHO HAD NO ONE TO TAKE CARE OF HER, AND SO I HAD TO SEE HER HOME."] * * * * * COMIC ZOOLOGY. Order-Reptilia. THE VIPER. The supposition that this snake prefers a file to any other species of nourishment is a vulgar error, and belongs to the same mendacious category as the stories that ostriches are fond | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041696 | of ten-penny nails and soldiers of hard tack. It is true that old files are sometimes bitten by vipers in localities where these serpents abound, but in the lizard and hop-toad they usually find metal more attractive. The viper, when in a state of repose, is of an olive-brown color; but, if trodden upon, turns rusty. He is about twenty-four | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041697 | inches in length, as you may see by applying a two-foot rule to him, but it is a good rule to keep two feet away from him. As a bosom friend he is not to be trusted--a fact in natural history that was discovered many years ago by a green countryman, who got into a bad box by placing a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041698 | viper on his chest. It is a peculiarity of this serpent, that when held suspended by his posterior extremity he can not raise his head to a level with his tail. In consequence of this provision in the economy of nature, he finds it as impossible to make both ends meet as if he were a human prodigal. In this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000041699 | respect he presents a marked contrast to the hoop-snake, which has no more back-bone than a timid politician, and can put its tail in its mouth, and roll in any direction with the utmost facility. The viper was at one time supposed to have an envenomed tongue, and although this error has been exploded, it is as well to avoid | 60 | gutenberg |
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