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Read Ebook: Mr. Punch's Country Life: Humours of Our Rustics by Hammerton J A John Alexander Editor
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Ebook has 81 lines and 15122 words, and 2 pages
se in the Midland Counties. Put a housekeeper in it to look after it.
HABITS OF HEALTHY EXERCISE.--If a young lady is unable to sport a riding habit, she should adopt a walking habit.
TOWN THOUGHTS FROM THE COUNTRY
MRS. RAMSBOTHAM is staying with her niece in the country. She is much delighted with the rich colour of the spring bulbs, and says she at last understands the meaning of "as rich as Crocus."
A CONUNDRUM TO FILL UP A GAP IN THE CONVERSATION.--Why is a person older than yourself like food for cattle?
Because he's past your age .
QUERY.--Has the want of rain this summer, and consequent failure of the hay crops, affected the market for Grass Widows?
LOCAL PECULIARITIES
At Bilston they always hit the right nail on the head.
At Bolton it is impossible for those who run up ticks to bolt off.
At Broadstairs the accommodation for stout visitors is unrivalled.
At Colchester they are all "natives."
At Coventry, strange to say, they can furnish no statistics of the number of persons who have been sent there.
At Liverpool they are extremely orthodocks.
If you write to Newcastle take care to under-Lyne the address.
At Newmarket they take particular interest in the question of races.
At Portsmouth everything is ship-shape.
At Rye you will meet none but Rye faces.
At Sheffield you will always find a knife and fork laid for you.
"Oi, sir, yeu be roight, theer, that you be!"
A TRULY RURAL DEAN.--The Dean of Ferns.
THE SWEETS OF COUNTRY LIFE
'Tis sweet at Summer eve to rove, When brightly shines each twinkling star, And, strolling through the silent grove, Calmly to smoke a good cigar.
'Tis sweet upon the flowery mead To see the tender lambkins play, With pensive eye to watch them feed, And note how plump to roast are they.
'Tis sweet the fallow deer to view, Couched 'mid the fern in tranquil group; 'Tis sweet to hear the turtle's coo, And meditate on turtle soup.
'Tis sweet, from cares domestic free, While wandering by the streamlet's side, The speckled trout or perch to see, And think how nice they would be, fried.
'Tis sweet to mark the plover's flight, Lone on the moor, its nest despoiled; And with prospective mental sight To contemplate its eggs, hard boiled.
'Tis sweet, beside the murmuring rill, The scented violet to smell; Yet may a perfume sweeter still Attend the welcome dinner-bell!
QUERY.--If you give two persons a seat in a cornfield, can this proceeding be called "setting them by the ears"?
FOX'S MARTYRS.--Ducks, fowls, turkeys, and geese.
"A CROP EXPERT."--A professional hair-dresser.
FARM NOTES
AGRICULTURAL.--A South of England farmer writes to us to say, that he has an early harvest in view, as he has already got three ricks in his neck, and is doing very well.
HOW TO TREAT ROUGH DIAMONDS.--Cut them!
HORTICULTURE UP TO DATE
THE ORIGIN OF RURAL DECADENCE.--Through communications corrupt good manners.
SHOCKING BAD HUSBANDRY.--Baby-farming.
HINT TO THE MANAGERS OF POULTRY SHOWS.--Exhibit some henpecked husbands.
A BLACK COUNTRY SYNONYM.--Ruling with a rod of iron.--Beating your wife with a poker.
THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.--When the roses sweetly breathe a dew.
THE FARMING OF THE FUTURE;
RURAL FELICITY
Evening in the country! A Spring evening! Ah, you dweller in the close perfervid city, how I wish I could have transported you to my side yesterday, while I stood and watched the sinking fire of day waving me from his Orient window.
A GLAD GOOD-NIGHT!
How I wish you could have lain near me on that pile of fresh-cut hay, redolent of clover and the scarlet vetch, lulled to sleep, it may be, by the low moaning of rats in the stack, or the melancholy hoot of the night-jar! Sleep follows swiftly, sleep such as you denizens of the crowded street can never know--sleep beneath the stars.
Up with the lark! Shelley's skylark! There he is, the blithe unconscious creature, hovering above the plough-share, ready to pounce upon the first unwary field-vole upturned from his
NEST IN THE LUXURIANT LOAM.
Yet how difficult to fix one's mind upon mere journalism, when on this side and on that the lithe rabbit is popping up from his "forme," and beneath their white blossoms the red strawberries lurk under every springing hedge-tuft. A glass of creamy butter-milk supplied by the smiling lass at the cottage wicket, together with a light and delicious scone
EATEN IN THE STUBBLE
under the sighing alders, has served me for my simple yet hygienic meal. And now as I watch the shepherd lead his flock of lowing kine into the pastures, the stately old bell-wether bringing up the rear, I feel that here is life indeed, and here I could willingly have spent the remainder of my days, "the world forgetting, by the world forgot," but inexorable Fate with her iron shears forbids. I must
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