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A Sons Of Seltzer.
Let the Bacchanal boast of his Eau de Vie,
For the Eau de Seltz,
For the Eau de Seltz,
It it rather trying, no doubt, to sit
That "The Eau do Soltz,
"The Eau de Seltz, "The Eau de Seltz is the drink for me \"
You may brag that of Claret, Champagne and Hock You keep in your cellar a capital stock;
Of Barclay and Perkins, or Guinness's Stout; But as these with my system would never agree, Tho Eau de Seltz is the drink for me!
Yes, the Eau de Seltz,
Tho Eau de Soltz,
In Vino Veritas.
A Disappointed member of the Corporation who was lately invited to a second-rate dinner at the Mansion House, observed that them there light wines was bad enough, but that he couldn't abear that bitter (H)ale.
A HINT TO LODGING-LETTERS.
Do leave it off. It never takes anybody in, and only makes them laugh at you. We allude to the conventional fiction in your advertisements, that you let off parts of the houses in which you live because they are too large for you, because you want society, or for any other reason than to get money. Everybody knows that nobody takes houses that are too large for them unless they mean to sub-let (and then they are not too large for them, so we have you there) and as for inviting lodgers for the mere pleasure of the thing, we should as soon expect a man to advertize that, having more room in his coat than ho required, he would be glad to hear of a respectable person to help him to fill it.
Do drop this nonsense, as well as other little deceptions (which never decoives anybody) indulged in by the female members of your class —that they are the widows or daughters of general officers, physicians, or clergymen, or have fallen in some way from other superior ranks of life. Circulate announcements of this kind, and then we shall believe you are in earnest:—
"A Respectable Person, who does not pretend to be a gentleman, having a house smaller than he would like if ho were well off, wishes, nevertheless, for particular reasons, to let part of it to an eligible tenant. He expects to be properly paid, and in return promises not to thieve from his lodgers, tell lies about himself, or to be more of a bore than he can help."
"The Widow of a Respectable Cheesemonger, who has never seen better days than the present, and was never ever distantly connected with anybody in a better position in life, wishes to let," &c, &c.
In tho case of people wanting to add the attractions of a cheerful home, or a family musically inclined, perhaps tho udditions might be referred to in this manner:—
"Tho Advertizer is too hard-up to be very cheerful, but the family
will keep a grin on their faecs if it is considered in the rent, and although not musically inclined, they have a piano which they will help to play on under similar conditions."
It would be only fair, too, to add sometimes a provision of this kind :—
"The tenant will not be treated as one of the family, as no lady or gentleman would stand that; tho older children being badgered out of their lives by their parents, and tho younger ones usually whipped and put to bed at premature periods of the evening, tho parents themselves being continually quarrelling, and venting their spite upon everybody over whom they have any authority."
A little open confession of this kind we can assure you, would be far better for your prospects in life than tho present hypocritical pretences which are fast driving people to hotels!
MACBETH AND COMTJS.
Three gentlemen, in various ages born,
By turns the British Drama did adorn.
First Shakespeare came: John Milton was the next;
The third is Falconer, who—much perplexed
At not exactly knowing what to do—
Takes Drury Lane, and joins the other two.
A Classical Error.
The late lamented Lempriere tells us that Io was changed into a heifer; but we havo lately gleaned from a doctor's prescription the following piece of information respecting tho end of that young person: "Io-dide of Potassium."
Editor,—The worst of Antwerp is that there is so much to see there. Every street has a history, and each of those curious old houses, with the Vandyked gables and carved facides, smacks of Philip of Spain-, tho cruel Alva, Charles The Fipth, Rubens, Quentin Matsys, buxom Flemish vrows, and many-trowsered burgomasters. There is a cathedral that would take a week to do thoroughly; and there is a museum of pictures in which it month might be profitably passed. Then there is one of the finest streets in the world, and some of the handsomest quays in the world. There is blacksmith work by Quentin Matsys, and there is painter work by Qcbntin Matsys also. There is the house of Rubens, and the house of Plactius and Morbtus, the grand old printers; and other matters which, if this letter were intended as a guide-book, I should faithfully describe.
I suppose there is no place within a day's sail of England that is so thoroughly unEnglish as Antwerp. Boulogne is simply bad Dover done into French; and Ostend is bad Boulogne done into German. Dieppe is more French than Boulogne, but still it smacks of Brighton. Antwerp is unlike any of these; and, indeed, unlike anything but a Dutch, Flemish, or North Belgic town. I suppose Rotterdam and Amsterdam are still more quaint in their respective characteristics; but as I have not been to either of them, I am not in a position to say. There are but three objections that I can make to Antwerp; and, taking the discontented nature of my disposition into consideration, that is saying volumes in its favour. The objections are these:— 1. A perpetual carillon of querulous chimes. 2. The objectionablo round stones with which the streets are paved; and 3. The interminable lines of linden trees with which the town is surrounded.
Writing of linden trees reminds me to call your attention to a characteristic little pastoral which I have composed, descriptive of progressive growth of the estate of an imaginary landed proprietor in the South Lowlands; it is called
Jan BrSon had a little linden,
One little linden tree!
Ten little linden trees!
In Antwerp, as in almost all the large towns of North Belgium, the names of the streets, the municipal notices, and other advertiseI ments of a similar description, are published in Flemish as well as in I French. This gives you an admirable opportunity of comparing the two languages; and the result of the comparison is that while Flemish isn't in the least like French, it is marvellously like English. An Englishman, leaving England for the first time, would have little difficulty in deciphering the Flemish announcements on the walls; and so great a proficiency did I attain in the course of a twelve hours' residence in Antwerp, that I actually contrived to render into choice Flemish the once popular ballad about Nancy in the Strand.
*' Voor soom taime paast I av peen totchin
In de Straandt! In de Straandt!
There are few more amusing ways of spending an hour than to pay your franc at the cathedral at the time of the exhibition of the " Elevation of tho Cross," and tho "Descent from the Cross," and take stock of the cockney tourists " doing" these great pictures. Of course, it is out of the question to pass through Antwerp without stopping to see them, and as a franc is charged for admission, peoplo who go feel bound to remain a considerable time gazing at these pictures, in order to delude themselves into the idea that the enjoyment they have derived is a fair equivalent for tho franc they have paid. So they take chairs, and seat themselves in front of the pictures and read their Mobilay; and although in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, they would pass the master-piece unheeded by if they saw it hanging in a Wardour-street window, they remain spell-bound for half-an-hour at a time by the beauties they have been told they are to appreciate—just as the vulgar knife-swallowing manufacturer who sits opposite to me at the table d'hote drinks Licbfraumilch and Chateau Lajitte because they are down on tho carte aX eighteen and sixteen francs a bottle.
During my stay at Antwerp a Kermesse took place, and of course I went to see it. You know the Kermesse scene from Faust? Well, it wasn't at all like that. It was simply a collection of work girls and
ouvritri at various cabarets in the suburbs of the town for dancing and drinking purposes. The price of admission varied from three to six sous it head, and this tariff included "consummations"—which, however, were not describable as "devoutly to bo wished." In addition to this, each cavalier paid two sous per dance —a halt being called in tho middle of each tlanco in order to collect the pence. There was no drunkenness, no unseemly romping, not a flavour of cancan, and no quarrelling. Everything was orderly, and although the class of dancers was socially of the lowest, I did not hear a word spoken which (as Mr. Maddison Morton would say) would bring the check to the blush of modesty.
TO THE TERRESTRIAL GLOBE.
By A Misebable Wretch.
Roll on, thou ball, roll on!
What, though I'm in a sorry case?
Roll on, thou ball, roll on!
It's true I've got no shirts to wear;
(It rolls en.
A Scholar.—Horace evidently alludes to the almost impossibility of browing hot whisky and water when the fire's out and the kettle cold when ho uses the words difficili bile. The tumet in the next lines refers to the fact that there are only two present, the accident usually happening when Benedict brings a friend homo, "just for one glass," and expects to find his wife up.
Elocutionist.—Much depends on accent. "Here's a go !" is suggestive of perplexity and distress to the best regulated mind. "Here's (s)ago!" points at a mild food for the invalid.
R. S. V. P.—Upon the question of domestic servants we really do not know what to say, and we say it unconditionally and without reserve. If your housemaid offended you, we think that you were somewhat hasty in tearing her hair, and throwing boiling coffee over her, but no doubt you best understand her temperament, and how she should bo treated. Wo do not think you are warranted in refusing to give hor a character because she cried when you called her a slut, but do as you please. Cold turnips should always be eaten by servants. It makes them know their station.
A Voice Prom Tub Kitchen.—By all means. If your mistress looks cross at you, hit her! We would.
Avld Reekie.—Tho poem is exactly three hundred lines too long for this publication. We don't usually return manuscripts, but you can have yours again if you choose to send one of Pickfobd's vans for it.
Gbebx.—What's fun to you would be death to us; besides, "baker" and "paper" are not used as rhymes except in blank verse, and then only by poetic licence.
Mac.—We have not begun fires yet, but tho waste-paper basket answered quite as well. Your contribution sunk to the bottom of it like a stone.
Amelia.—The poem commencing
"How doth the little bn«y b—" is not called "Lines to my Lodgings at the Seaside."
Old Honesty.—It's all very well to say you are honest and straightforward, and call a spade a spade. But when you took three numbers off our counter the other day, and handed over a bad threepenny piece, you could hardly call us paid, as paid.
N ow for the art of catching fish, that is to say, how to make a man that was none, to be an angler by a hook, so that he may himself make a fish to be a dangler by a hook. He that undertakes it shall Tindertake a harder task than shall Mr. Hale, the valiant and sweet-tempered Mayor of this city, when he doth essay to reason with Mr. Bennett, and to shame him from the public teaching of horology by the clockwork of Holland, motive in Cheapside.
Not but that many useful maxims and even some entertainment may be found in books, which may themselves be also discovered in the running, or even the Shirley Brooks, as sermons are to be met with in Marcus Stone's pictures, and good, or what is all the same, Hood in everything.
Some person of rare wit has made, methinks, a similar remark before, perhaps 'one Shakespeare, of whom I have heard that he did say many things worthy to be remembered, but of this I make small account, my own contemplations being for the most part on the banks of some stream wherein fish are said to abide.
And for this the true brother of the angle will carry forth his rod and other gear, not with the vulgar desire of catching great store of finny game, hut the rather for that true sport which lieth in the exercise of patience and the subtle delight of expectancy and hope deferred until even small rewards shall be received with contentment, though they do not exalt the spirit to an ungovernable triumph.
Of all places wherein it delighteth me to throw a fly or dexterously to cast forth my ground bait, there is none in this matter of the true motive which should determine the angler that doth excel that part of the Lea river known as Temple Mills.though what Temple hath ever Btood thereabout is now lost in the impenetrable mists of ages. Or what mills are there to be used, passeth my humble experience, save certain encounters either in logomachy or word contests, or with the hands in the pugilistic manner.
Nevertheless, in that same hostolry, or inn, there is to be had liquor, whereof a stone bottle sunk among the the cool weeds on the margin of the stream up at the White House, known as "beres
Ford's," comforteth the heart of him who waiteth lovingly but patiently for the taking of his bait by the gudgeon, which, though not so fine as I have seen, do occasionally reach to tho length even of three full inches, and may be discerned when the water is low by reason of drought, warily avoiding the tempting morsels offered to them by whole rows of men and boys who line tho bank or lean across the paling at that same Temple Mills. More to my mind than such eager and unprofitable sport which wantcth dignity and lacketh patience, is a seat in that great and strange tree whereto one may climb to a sort of stage or rostrum, where ale and powdered beef, with a roll, misliketh not tho frugal stomach. In that tree, too, one may take note of much that is akin to the sport of angling, as tho catching of weak minds in the landing net of love and the like—tho manner of the lovers affording much contemplation.
But here have I lingered long until I fear me the sun will be too low to give light for the fly. The pike is a noble and a voracious fish, and the barbel, the roach, and the dace, are esteemed by those who know their habits. I have seen of each rare samples said to ,have been taken from the Lea, and though I was not myself there at the time (for which I lament my ill fortune), thoy are well preserved in the glass coffers at that same Beresford'b, where all who go may look on them and wonder. It .is said too, that many other like great fishes do haunt the holes and sedges of the remoter parts of this river, but I have not myself seen them, nor do I know one who hath.
NOTICE.—By the desire of numerous correspondents, copies of
printed on toned paper, may now be obtained at the Office, price One Penny.
Now ready, the Eighth Half-yearly Volume oj FUN, being
handsomely bound in Magenta cloth, price is. 6d.
Now Ready, the Title, Preface, And Index, forming an extra Number, price One Penny. Also, now ready, Part IV.
Printed by JUDD & GLASS, Phoenix Works, St. Andrew's Hill, Doctors' Commons, and Published (for the Proprietors) by TII0HA8 BAKER, at
80, Fieet-street, E.C.—September 30, 1865.
Bus-driver (alludiug to distinguished Foreigner, who has just got dotcn):—" I
NEVER COULD AHIDE THEM FRENCH. Wht, I XNOWED A OENT AB WAS OVER THERE DURDXO THE REVOLUTIONS, AND WHAT DO YOC THINK, SIK? WllY, THEY ACKSHALLY MADE BARRICADES OF 'BISE8!!"
THE MONKEY IN TROUBLE.
Waitdxo, waiting for the halter,
Oh! the Rock of Gibberaltar!
Active, nimble, able-bodied,
Up the tallest trees I ran,
Just as if I was a man!
Beating at my prison wildly'.
Yelling with a maddened yell!
This a condemned sell!
They have locked mo in the station,
In a fit of irritation
I attacked a teasing child!
Well, of course, the fact beforo you
But, indeed, I do assure you
When you're treated idem semper,
Thrashed and clothed in dresses tight,
Why, it tells upon your temper,
Just suppose a great gorilla
Came and took the learned beak,
Hake him fire a gun for siller,
Wear a brigand hat and feather,
riay in every kind of weather,
P'raps they're now indictments framing
Me as human fellow claiming—
Let me go—you're sure to mess it—
As Mr. Rcssell would express it,
Editor,—An excellent and talented friend onco observed to me "The real enjoyment of foreign travel consists in the pleasure you feel in leaving a place," and he was right. A fortnight's holiday sojourn in any town—I don't care where it is—is exhausting. Take a fortnight in Paris, and spend that fortnight in " doing" the city, and see how you feel disposed toward it at the end of the fortnight. You will loathe it: its cathedrals will be to you as ledgers to a bank clerk, its picture galleries as oakum to a pickpocket. You will Bigh for the hour when you will be comfortably Beated in your railway carriage bound for Brussels, or Strasbourg, or Geneva, or Nice, or Biarritz, or some other place which will appear to you, from your then point of view, as Paradise to the Peri, but which you will eventually detest as heartily as ever you detested Paris.
Pondering these matters, I took my place in the railway carriage that was to convey me from Antwerp to Brussels, after a desperate encounter with a railway porter who, failing to extract a pour boire from me, fell to cursing me in the most emphatic Flemish I ever heard. Englishmen make two mistakes when they avail themselves of continental railways; they tip the porteis who weigh the luggage, and they travel second class. Now these porters should not be tipped, the universality of the practice has caused them to demand the pour boire, and when they don't get it they swear openly at you. On one occasion (it was in Paris), a fellow actually seized me by the collar and refused to let me go until I had given him srmo sous. The departure bell was ringing at the time, and I struck him such a mighty blow beneath the chin that I heard his teeth dance about in his mouth like peas in a drum. So far my conduct was BAYARD-like, but I am bound to admit that my subsequent behaviour was cowardly, for in a mortal fright I bolted into the train and was whirled off to Geneva by an express which wouldn't hear of stopping until it reached the Swiss frontier, where I felt myself comparatively safe. I believe that, in France, to expostulate with a fraudulent railway clerk is galleys for life, and to
striko a porter is murder without extenuating circumstances. And second class carriages should be avoided: I know the saying about Englishmen, Princes and Fools, but still I say that continental second class carriages should be avoided. Independently of the fact that the society of Englishmen, Princes, and Fools is decidedly preferable to that of travelling Frenchmen and Germans, the high tariff charged for luggage that is placed in the van induces second-class nativo travellere to bring as many portmanteaus, trunks, carpet bags, hat boxes, and other impedimenta into the carriage with them as they can contrivo tt carry. Although this nuisance exists to a certain extent in the firstclass, still the fact that you have a definite allotment of the carriage to yourself prevents tho nuiBanco from attaining serious propor tions.
Whether it is that the British tourists who find their way int< Brussels are men of better tone than those we meet in Paris and at th< French watering places, or whether it is that Belgian officials are no so exasperating in their demeanour towards travelling Britons as thos of Fiance, I do not know, but I was certainly pleased with the de meanour of my countrymen in Brussels. Here, in the immediat vicinity of the field of Waterloo, one would expect to find all that i most offensive in the British Bnob, in a state of rampant vigour. On would expect to find the British alderman and the British merchant' clerk holding forth at the table d'hote as to what "we" did in 'it and one would expect to find on tho Waterloo coach an arena for th display of British Jolly-Dogmatism in its most repulsive form. Bi no. l'ho English tourists in Brussels appear, for the most pm t, to l gentlemen, and to act up to tho character. I sincerely truBt that tb Volunteers who accepted the invitation of tho Belgian Government week ago, and who are strutting about the streets of Brussels as writo, will not do more than they can help to impair the favourab! impression that their holiday countrymen appear to have created i thib " Paris in miniature."
Br Th« Saunterer In Society.
UCH as one regrets that there should have been any unpleasantness about Gladiateur, it is impossible not to be gratified at the upshot of the whole affair. The preternaturally solemn correspondence — very properly described by the press as "official "— which passed between the stewards and the Jockey Club and Count Lagrange has quite a diplomatic air,
- and is calculated to restoro the international confidence, which, nursed at Brest and fostered at Portsmouth, was imperilled at Doncaster. It has been
( whispered that Lord Russell, delighted at the success of his Gastein letter, has addressed a congratulatory epistle to the Emperor on the restoration of the good understanding be
- tween England and France. Whether this be true or not, I cannot say, but I hear tho Emperor was observed to light his cigar with a larger wisp of paper than usual the other day.
I See that the inventor of the spiritual writing on the arm—the trick which Mr. Foster, the Yankee medium, worked in England—has beon fined in America for juggling without a licence. I am very glad to hear it. Every small quack who is exploded clears the atmosphere. Foolish—or fraudulent— British believers won't have a medium left to swear by soon. Hume, thoir first and best medium, has been detected—the story is too long to tell, but it is very good,—Foster's humbug was exposed, and now in Paris the Davenport trick has been shown up. The Britishbelievers have been driven gradually to relinquish each of these prophets, and unless the supply is kept up won't have a humbug to swear by. By the way, I see tho Davenports are saying now that the seat was smashed and not released by a spring, and put in a broken board in evidence. Ab, however, they did not show it at the time and might easily get up such evidence, I don't think they will delude many. For my own part I wouldn't believe them on affidavit, and consider them quite capable of manufacturing this explanation.
It appears that the doings of the British Association at Birmingham have excited much interest in France, and that the discussion on Cannibalism especially has given rise to considerable debate. Our lively neighbours, with the true culinary instinct, which makes them the only real cooks in Europe, or tho world, have gone straight to the consideration of the suitability of human flesh for the cuisine, and their ultimatum is that after you have turned four-and-twenty you are rather coarse eating, and it is quite impossible to make—oh, truly French notion—soup of you. That's bad news for us old fellows who have got into our thirties!
"what is coming to our provincials? Has the increase of the desire to send missions to foreign parts led to our country folk becoming uncivilized savages? The reason of my asking the question is that I see that at a fancy fair (all fancy fairs ar e mischievous) recently hold at Wimbourne, prizes were offered for the be^-looking young man, and tho best looking girl, to be nominated by a committee of ladies in tho first instance, and gentlemen in the second. The natural modesty of tho sex, which not even a constant course of fancy fairs can entirely eradicate, prevented tho first half of the scheme from being carried out, but the boors and bumpkins actually balloted for the candidates for the ladies prize, and two young ladies obtained an equal number of votes. I wonder whether the girls were exhibited in stills like beasts at a cattle show, and if the judges discussed their points and punched them about in the approved fashion. Such an exhibition is disgraceful even to a county as low down in the scale of civilization as Dorset.
Mr. Disraeli has made a speech to the Bucks farmers, without any politics in it—except, of course, his attributing the cattle plague to the present Government. The prospects of Her Majesty's Opposition must be circumscribed indeed if the leader of the party could find aothing to talk about but agriculture, about wliich ho knows even less than ho does about statesmanship.
The Sunday School Union, so says a cotemporary, is about to bring rat with the new year, a cheap weekly magazine for young people, to 50 called Kind Words. Of course tho S.S.U. teaches children to be lonest and speak tho truth, so I don't see what better story they could >egin their-publication with than something in this style:—"Once lpon a time there was a publisher who brought out a magazine called
Good Word). It was a great success and sold well. But there was a pious society which was always telling little people not to steal, so it cribbed this title and altered it a little, so as to be able to prevaricate and say it was not quite the same, and brought out a magazine to teach its young renders to bo honest and tell the truth." I present that little story to the new magazine.
Fenianism after all was hardly worth tho fuss that has been made about it. A lot of ungrammatical Irish melodies and a little drilling which may be looked upon as the breaking out of the volunteer mania in another form, would seem to be all that has come of it. The silly folk who have been arrested must not bo too severely punished. I should advise hard labour—to consist in weeding the celebrated cabbage garden where Smith O'brien did such wonders for Ireland.
Hurrah! for October, all sober
The leaves wear their livery of brown,
And fresh to his jawbones, young Sawbones Comes merrily up to the Town.
Parental oppression, the session
Will soon put an end to; with gleo
He welcomes old faces and placcB,
He'll soon have had tussles with muscles
The plexus, called lumbar, a number
No fear of neglecting dissecting,
To lay bare the flexor, pcrplexor
At nine in tho morning, there's scorning
While soda-and-brandy stands handy,
At breakfast the bloater, ]^
Of peekishness, cools on his plate,
So languid his fauces, no sauces
No dreams of days after, and laughter
He'll take his full measure of pleasure
Instruction that's clinic, a cynic
His note-book has traces of cases,
He plays much at billiards, whole Iliads
His ball, like a rocket, tho pocket
He's famous at cricket, tho wicket
Ho bets upon races, and aces
The landladies prudent, our student
He'll make the cat frisky with whisky,
Then hail to our doctors, ccncocters
Athirst for all knowledge to collego
A Shocking In-trews-ion.
We understand that the kilt is going out of fashion in Scotland. There has long been a complaint against it among the sportsmen who adopted it while deerstalking and grouse shooting. They say they got so cut and scratched about the legs when working for a day in the national costume that when they came home it was a return of the kilt and wounded. By abandoning the habit they hope to have better bags—bnt a trews to jesting! The subject is too painful.