Mr. Punch's Book of Love: Being the Humours of Courtship and Matrimony by Hammerton et al. (best ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📗
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Tears from my eyes her turned heels draw.
Oh, don't I love my mother-in-law!
[Pg 132]A sweet old soul, how pleased I feel
To see her at the social meal
Of dinner sit, her mouth a chink
Ne'er opened save to meat—and drink!
And I'll ne'er grudge (I am so free)
Her gin and brandy in her tea.
I hold her in such filial awe;
Oh, don't I love my mother-in-law!
[Pg 131]
"Just look at Mr. Jones over there, flirting with that girl! I always thought he was a woman-hater?"
"So he is; but she's not here to-night!"
The Straight Tip.—"And so now they're engaged! Well, Jessie, to think of you, with your beauty and accomplishments, and your lovely voice, being cut out by such an ignorant little fright as that Maggie Quickson! You sang to him, I suppose?" "Yes, mamma, by the hour! But she made him sing, you know, and played his accompaniments for him!" "Why, can he sing?" "No, mamma; but she made him believe he could!"
Motto for a "Kiss."—Go it, my two lips.
Crossed in Love.—A wedding-present cheque.
Q. What is the difference between a lover asking the object of his affections to marry him, and a guest who ventures to hint to his host that the Pommery '80 is rather corked?
A. The one pops the question, the other questions the pop.
[Pg 133]
He. "How would you like to own a—er—a little puppy?"
She. "Oh, Mr. Softly, this is so sudden!"
[Pg 134]
HOW TO MAKE LIFE EMINENTLY DISAGREEABLE(By a strong-minded Married Woman)
Always provide for everything beforehand. As things are sure to turn out differently from what you have arranged, this will familiarise you with disappointment.
Always go back upon a mistake or a misfortune, and so take the opportunity of proving how much better things would have been if something had been done that hasn't.
Never give way in trifles, as there is no saying how soon you may be called upon to give way in matters of more importance.
A mistress may talk at her servants, but should never lower herself so far as to talk to them.
Never dress for your husband, which will teach him to value you for your gifts of mind, not your attractions of person.
Never give expression to your affections, as there[Pg 136] is no saying how soon they may alter, and you may thus be guilty of great inconsistency.
Never consult the taste of your husband, or he will in time come to look on his house as a club, where all is comfort and self-indulgence.
TO AN OLD FLAME—(Twenty Years after)A little girl, a charming tiny tot,
I well remember you with many a curl,
Although I recollect you said "I'm not
A little girl."
We parted. Mid the worry and the whirl
Of life, again, alas! I saw you not.
I kept you in my memory as a pearl
Of winsome childhood. So imagine what
A shock it was this morning to unfurl
My morning paper, there to see you've got
A little girl!
The Poet and his Love—(A Lapsus Lingu�.)—He. "I see that you wear brown boots, sweetheart—a sign of the falling of the year." She. "Yes, it is in concord with the decadence of the leaf." He. "Say rather of the cutting of the corn." (And then the match was broken off through no fault of his.)
[Pg 135]
A SAFE MORTGAGE
Angelina. "Edwin, promise me you'll never describe me as your 'relict.'"
Edwin. "Dearest, I never will! I'd die sooner!"
[Pg 137]
Brown (who has been dining at the club with Jones). "Just come in a minute, old fellow, and have a night-cap."
Jones. "I'm afraid it's getting a little late. Let's see, how's the enemy."
Brown. "Oh! that's all right. She's in bed."
[Pg 138]
Things one would Rather have Left Unsaid.—"Well, but if you can't bear her, whatever made you propose?" "Well, we had danced three dances, and I couldn't think of anything else to say!"
THE FIN DE SI�CLE SUITOR.I love you in an all-absorbing, fond, unselfish way,
I dream of you the long night thro', I think of you each day,
Whene'er I hear your voice, my dear, a spell o'er me is cast,
The rapture of your presence is (I'm certain) bound to last.
On you I'll pour the loving store and treasures of my heart,
With riches of an earthly kind I am more loth to part,
I'll sing your praise in loving ways, for are you not my queen?
You'll find the verses published in our local magazine.
So deep is my affection I would joyfully propose,
But for one great objection, which now I will disclose,
Intense is your suspense, so I'll endeavour to be short,
The fact is, that a husband you're not able to support.
New Dish for a Wedding Breakfast.—Curried favour.
The Best Cure for the Heartburn.—Marriage.
[Pg 139]
Young Bride. "Do you let your husband have a latchkey, Mrs. Jones?"
Mrs. Jones. "No, my dear; it would be useless. I give it to the milkman!"
[Pg 140]
PROGNOSTICATION
When Mrs. Tubbles awoke (she sleeps very soundly), the morning after that farmers' dinner, she found John by her side with his boots on and the umbrella open! His explanation was that, besides being very tired, he perhaps "fansh'd there wash 'shtorm comin' on!"
[It came!
A HUSBAND'S LAMENTAir—"I once had a sweet little Doll, dears." (Kingsley's words, set by A. Cecil.)
I once saw a sweet pretty face, boys:
Its beauty and grace were divine.
And I felt what a swell I should be, boys,
Could I boast that such charms were all mine!
I wooed. Every man I cut out, boys,
At my head deep anathemas hurled:—
But I said as I walked back from church, boys,
"I'm the luckiest dog in the world!"
[Pg 142]As doves in a cot we began, boys,
A cosy and orthodox pair:
Till I found at my notable wife, boys,
The world was beginning to stare.
She liked it. At first, so did I, boys,
But, at length, when all over the place
She was sketched, hunted, photo'd and mobbed, boys,
I cried, "Hang her sweet pretty face!"
Still, we went here and there,—right and left, boys;—
We were asked dozens deep,—I say "we,"
Though wherever I went not a soul, boys,
Could have pointed out Adam from me.
But we had a rare social success, boys,
Got mixed with the noble and great,
Till one's friends, who say kind and nice things, boys,
Talked of me as "the man come to wait!"
So, I've no more a sweet pretty wife, boys;—
For the one that I once hoped to own,
Belongs, as I've found to my cost, boys,
To the great British public alone.
So until they've got tired of her face, boys,
And a rival, more touzled or curled,
Drives her home to her own proper place, boys—
I'm the dullest dull dog in the world!
A sure Aid to Matrimony.—Propingpongquity.
From "Punch's Synonyms."—The Limited Male: a husband.
A Very-much Married Man.—The "hub" of the universe.
[Pg 141]
Miss Giddie. "It's awfully sweet of you, Mr. Cunius—(coquettish pause)—Impey, to ask me to marry you. Of course, I know you love me; but I hope that people won't say that you married me for my money!"
Mr. Impey Cunius (in a state of utter collapse after an elaborately forced proposal). "My dear, Miss Giddie—er—Flossie, I assure you that I shall never mention it!"
[Pg 143]
"FOR THE THIRD TIME OF ASKING"
Aunt Mary. "You heard the vicar publish the banns between Uncle George and Ellen Thompson?"
Ethel (who has never been present at this ceremony before). "Yes—it seems rather a shame to tell everybody how often he'd been refused, though!"
[Pg 144]
LOVE AND COURTSHIP(As they appear from certain Answers to Correspondents)
Vanitas.—You are not bound to tell him. If the bright golden colour of your naturally dark hair is due to the excellent preparation recommended in another column, and he tells you he does not admire dark girls, why not keep on? The bottles are really quite cheap at nineteen and eleven. Of course, if it weighs upon your conscience, you might give him a hint, but he will probably talk about deceit, and behave in the brutally outspoken male manner so many readers complain of.
Amelia.—Have you not been rather indiscreet? You should never let him see you cry before you are married. Afterwards it has its uses.
Blanche Amory.—Cheer up. As you very cleverly put it, history does repeat itself. You are now once more in a position to undertake a further instalment of Mes Larmes. No. We[Pg 146] are overstocked with poetry. The man, of course, is beneath contempt.
Two Strings.—Your fianc� must be a perfect Othello. It is, as you justly remark, monstrous that he should object to your cousin seven times removed taking you to the theatre once or twice a week. Of course he is a relative.
Sweet-and-Twenty.—Your remarks about tastes in common are perfectly correct. So long as you both collect postcards you will always be able to give pleasure to each other at a distance.
Business Girl.—If you have found out that he only gave twenty-five pounds for your engagement ring, it may be, as you shrewdly observe, that he has a contract with the tradesman for a periodical supply of such articles. The fact that his income is under a hundred a year makes it only the more probable that he would adopt such an arrangement for economy's sake. Be very careful.
Pitti-Sing.—Your only course is to box his ears. Let us know how you get on.
Bellona.—Sorry to disappoint you, but this is not the place to describe the undress uniform of the Grenadier Guards.
[Pg 145]
H'M!
Stern Father. "What an unearthly hour that young fellow stops till every night, Doris. What does your mother say about it?"
Daughter. "She says men haven't altered a bit, pa."
[Pg 147]
THE BABES IN THE WOOD
Ernest. "I see you are getting on, foreman."
Foreman. "Yes, sir; we shall have the walls plastered to-morrow."
Agatha. "Oh, Ernest, don't let's have plaster! You never see it now; everybody has wall-papers, and you can get lovely ones quite cheap!"
[Pg 148]
MY NEIGHBOURNext door the summer roses bloom
And breathe their hearts out day by day
To please a gentle gardener whom
'Twere happiness to thus obey:
For her each rose a fragrance gives
That roses grudge to common labour,
And there, next door, among them lives
My neighbour.
I watch her in her garden fair,
And think what joy my life would bless
Could she and I but wander there,
A shepherd and a shepherdess,
As blithe as those of ancient myth
That danced and sang to pipe and tabor:
Who would not thus be happy with
My neighbour?
Blue eyes, and hair of sunny brown,
A form of such exceeding grace,
And features in whose smile and frown
Such tender beauty I can trace
That here to sketch her free from flaw
Defies the pencil of
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