Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 1, Complete eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 1,359 pages of information about Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 1, Complete.

“To revert to cats,” observes Mr. Manhug, as he sets himself before the fire to superintend the cooking; “it strikes me we could contrive no end to fun if we each agreed to bring some here one day in carpet-bags.  We could drive in plenty of dogs, and cocks, and hens, out of the back streets, and then let them all loose together in the dissecting-room.”

“With a sprinkling of rats and ferrets,” adds Mr. Rapp.  “I know a man who can let us have as many as we want.  The skrimmage would be immense, only I shouldn’t much care to stay and see it.”

“Oh that’s nothing,” replies Mr. Muff.  “Of course, we must get on the roof and look at it through the skylights.  You may depend upon it, it would be the finest card we ever played.”

How gratifying to every philanthropist must be these proofs of the elasticity of mind peculiar to a Medical Student!  Surrounded by scenes of the most impressive and deplorable nature—­in constant association with death and contact with disease—­his noble spirit, in the ardour of his search after professional information, still retains its buoyancy and freshness; and he wreaths with roses the hours which he passes in the dissecting-room, although the world in general looks upon it as a rather unlikely locality for those flowers to shed their perfume over!

“By the way, Muff, where did you get to last night after we all cut?” inquires Mr. Rapp.

“Why, that’s what I am rather anxious to find out myself,” replies Mr. Muff; “but I think I can collect tolerably good reminiscences of my travels.”

“Tell us all about it then,” cry three or four.

“With pleasure—­only let’s have in a little more beer; for the heat of the fire in cooking produces rather too rapid an evaporation of fluids from the surface of the body.”

“Oh, blow your physiology!” says Rapp.  “You mean to say you’ve got a hot copper—­so have I. Send for the precious balm, and then fire away.”

And accordingly, when the beer arrives, Mr. Muff proceeds with the recital of his wanderings.

* * * * *


  Cupid (that charming little garcon),
    When free, is am’rous, brisk, and gay;
  But when he’s noos’d by Hymen’s parson,
    Snores like Glenelg, or flies away.

* * * * *


An alarming forgery of Mendicity Society’s tickets has been discovered in Red Lion Square, and has caused much conversation at the doors of most of the gin palaces.  Our readers are probably aware what these tickets are, though, being a particular class of security, there is not a great deal publicly done in them.  They are issued to certain subscribers, who pay a guinea per year towards housing a Secretary and some other officers in a moderate-sized house, in the kitchen of which certain soup is prepared, which is partaken

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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 1, Complete from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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