Read Ebook: Punchinello Volume 1 No. 04 April 23 1870 by Various

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Ebook has 186 lines and 43881 words, and 4 pages

"Little JACK HORNER sat in a corner."

Now, truly the subject of the poem must have been possessed either of an extraordinary modicum of modesty or of a bitter misanthropy; or possibly he had been guilty of a misdemeanor, and was cornered to expiate the punishment justly due; yet conjecture is at once made certainty in the second line, by which all doubts as to the reasons for his being in a corner are immediately cleared up:

"Eating his Christmas-pie."

In the third line, we are afforded an insight into the manner in which he partook of the Christmas delicacy:

"He put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum."

Interesting scene! Here we have at least an inkling of the hero's powers of discrimination, and his regard for the little niceties of life. We have also a beautiful metaphorical allusion to the postulate that "fingers were made before forks," an assertion respecting the truth of which some antiquarians have expressed a doubt. We are not prepared to decide as to the propriety of leaving the substantial of life and employing sweets and frivolities to pamper the appetite--and there are other questions that naturally arise from the interesting circumstance noted above by the poet, but we will not dwell upon them here.

We proceed to the concluding verse.

"And said, 'What a good boy am I!'"

This concluding line, pointless as it may appear, partially clears up the mystery as to his being in a corner. He certainly was not there for misdemeanor; for he was a "good boy," at least in his own estimation. What a happy faculty it is, in this world, for a man to have a good opinion of himself! It relieves life of much of its bitterness. We thus perceive that, while JACK was tasting the sweets of a Christmas-pie, he was also enjoying the sweets of self-contentment.

A Voice from "the Hub."

Why, Oh! Why?

An Established Fact.

Rather Mixed.

"A few gentlemen can be accommodated with good board, washing, and ironing; or a gentleman and wife. Terms, per week; or two single ladies. Apply at --, corner of Newark avenue."

According to this advertisement, it appears that in Jersey a "gentleman and wife" are legal substitutes for "board, washing, and ironing." Now, it is bewildering to think how on earth a "gentleman and wife" could be made available in lieu of washing and ironing; while, on the other hand, the idea of serving up a "gentleman and wife" as "board," suggests the horrible idea that cannibalism is practised in New-Jersey. With regard to the terms, " per week" seems to be reasonable enough, though how "two single ladies" can be made legal tender for six dollars is absolutely maddening to the mind, inasmuch as average spinsters are far more apt to be tough than tender.

True.

Classic Grease.

A Paris grocer ornaments his shop-windows with a bust of ROCHEFORT, done in lard, with prunes for eyes. After this, let us hear no more of the sculptures of classic Greece. But why prunes? Why, to signify that after the funeral of VICTOR NOIR he dried his eyes.

A Little Berlin Game.

Bismarck has sent Herr SILK to Pekin, to wind himself around the Celestial emperor's heart, and also to make a cocoon for the Tycoon of Japan, after worming himself into his affections. Perhaps, for being such a darin' man, he may be made a mandarin!

A NOTARY'S PROTEST.

MR. PUNCHINELLO: I protest against certain annoyances to which a man in my office is subjected. Whereby it must be understood that I refer to myself and my official position, not to the nine by twelve apartment where the wicked and perverse can always find my sign without much seeking.

The drift of all this is, that I refer to Bores. It is not new, I know; if it were, a New Sense might be shown by telling whether it came from me originally. I believe that in all walks of life man's inhumanity to man is mainly manifested by boring. Sometimes this is said to have been done in past time, because the greatest "blower" known to the ancients was called Old Bore as we know, and POLYPHEMUS complained of having been bored by ULYSSES.

Then there is the man who stays; who is always the coming man, but never the going one. And there is the beggar woman, who enters my office like a ghost, and is a very great bore indeed. But of course beggars are bores of which every office has plenty. Every body knows these characters, however, and owes them too--one, at least, does. Well, it is hard that because a man is bored dead at his boarding-house he can't have peace in his office, and so I have made my protest against the bores, as I said I would. --A NOTARY.

A War of Castes.

The Michigan University has been unsuccessful in its search for a President, as it has not offered enough to induce acceptance on the part of those to whom it has tendered the honor. It seems to be a case where the Hire and Lore classes come in conflict.

An Old Story, even Here.

The papers tell of a dog-race which is to take place at San Francisco, and some of them add that a dog-race is a common thing in England, but a novelty here; as if the canine Race were something new in America!

Shock-ing Intelligence.

Another earthquake in San Francisco.

PUNCHINELLO ON THE JURY.

PUNCHINELLO has been summoned on the jury. He is asked to try a murderer. PUNCHINELLO is kind-hearted. He wishes neither to put himself in suspense in a jury-box, nor a murderer so in a sheriff's box that the murderer shall finally be put in suspense. PUNCHINELLO is to be asked whether he has formed or expressed an opinion upon the subject of the guilt or the innocence of the murderer, or whether he feels any bias against an accused. Such questions, in PUNCHINELLO'S opinion, are nonsensical. Jurors nowadays are influenced more through their stomachs than through their heads or their hearts. Let a juror, when he comes to be challenged, be rather asked, "Had you a good or a bad breakfast?" "Were you out late last night?" "Have you had the dyspepsia lately?" "Are you bilious?" "Do you habitually eat fried bacon or Welsh rarebit?" "Do you afflict yourself with reading the Tribune?" "Can you digest stewed lobster or apple-dumpling?" so that whenever a juror shall be found freed from dyspepsia, or to be a good sleeper, or a man who can digest even the new Tariff or the Income Tax, it is PUNCHINELLO'S opinion that such a juror will make a capital chap to listen complacently to lawyers, keep patience with witnesses, respect the judge, laugh at the crier, smile at the reporters, give "true deliverances," and contribute something toward redeeming our boasted Anglo-Saxon jury system.

The Difference.

Salt Lake City and Chicago represent the extreme ends of the social scale. In one place you get as many wives as you like; in the other it is quite as easy to get rid of them.

Boston out of the Clouds.

There is talk of reviving the old ordinance in Boston against smoking in the streets. This will aim a blow at side stove-pipes as well as at meerschaums; but, fortunately, it will not prevent the smoking of hams or of perpendicular chimneys.

"THIERS IDLE THIERS."

A newspaper item conveys the interesting intelligence that THIERS, the renowned statesman and historian, consumes snuff to the amount of a quarter of a pound daily. That M. THIERS is thoroughly "up to snuff" every body knows; but that he has so much idle time on his hands as to be able to use a quarter of a pound of it daily, will be news to most people. Let any one of our readers try it. Let him be ever so "good at a pinch," he will find that to feed his proboscis from a quarter of a pound of snuff until he has reached the last pinch, would take up, at a moderate computation, no less than eight hours at a stretch, allowing reasonable intervals for sneezing and blowing his nose. Evidently the story is an idle one--more idle than M. THIERS ever could have been. Perhaps it was "pinching" poverty in the way of items that drove the itemizer to invent it. At any rate, he has made a "mull" of it.

Apropos of Susan B. Anthony.

"Was ever woman in this humor One?"

A Gale Brewing.

CHAT ABOUT RAILROADS.

"They say that railroads now an't safe. Say, mister, how is that?" It comes of "accidents," my friend-- Where cheap rails spread out flat, Cheap axles break, cheap boilers burst, Cheap trestle-work gives way: No wonder, when you think of that, They kill a man a day!

Well, folks must travel; must go fast; Must take the cars--and risk; They can't afford a Special Train, Like VANDERBILT or FISK; They know a curve that's pretty sharp, A bank that's pretty steep, Rocks that may roll upon the track, "Sleepers" that never sleep;

It's so in coal-mines, so in mills; It's so on steamboats, too; We're killed by hundreds, every year: But what's a man to do? These harpies make our laws for us-- Or do so through their tools: No doubt we seem to all the world A wretched pack of fools!

Sugar-Cane.

The friends of WILLIAM TWEED, in presenting a cane to him the other evening, desired to show the Young Democracy how many there are who Stick to him.

TUTTI TREMANDO!

Truant Bards! where are the Triumphal Odes and the Congratulatory Poems which should have greeted Mr. PUNCHINELLO, who, after deserting his beloved Italy, after a stormy voyage and unspeakable sea-sickness, has arrived here with a view of settling and of becoming a citizen of this magnificent Republic? Where are the poets who should have greeted the venerable and illustrious voyager? Imbeciles! See you not that your congratulatory work would have been easy? That PUNCHINELLO rhymes to fellow and to mellow, to say nothing of bellow, and to yellow, Had we but been a Prince, and called VICTORIA R. our mother, we should ere this have been invited to balls enough to ruin our small legs, and dinners enough to destroy our great digestion. Yet, if it should come to the comparison of pedigrees, the Signor PUNCHINELLO feels that he could knock these princelings into a cocked hat, Mr. PUNCHINELLO proudly knows that he is His Own Ancestor and the Perpetual Renewer of his own Patent of Nobility.

New-England versus New-York.

An item of literary news states that--

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