Mr. Punch with the Children, J. A. Hammerton [good book club books .TXT] 📗
- Author: J. A. Hammerton
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[Pg 1] PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR Edited by J. A. Hammerton
Designed to provide in a series of volumes, each complete in itself, the cream of our national humour, contributed by the masters of comic draughtsmanship and the leading wits of the age to "Punch," from its beginning in 1841 to the present day.
MR. PUNCH WITH THE CHILDREN [Pg 2]
Much Ado.—"Mamma-a-a! Boo-hoo! We's crying! Tum up 'tairs an' see what's de matter wiv us!"
[Pg 3] MR. PUNCH WITH THE CHILDREN
AS PICTURED BYPHIL MAY, GEORGE DU MAURIER, CHARLES KEENE,
JOHN LEECH, GORDON BROWNE, L. RAVEN-HILL,
CHARLES PEARS, LEWIS BAUMER, DAVID WILSON, TOM
BROWNE, J. BERNARD PARTRIDGE, C. E. BROCK, TOM
WILKINSON, HILDA COWHAM, AND OTHER HUMORISTS
IN 175 ILLUSTRATIONS
PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH
THE PROPRIETORS OF "PUNCH"
THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD.
[Pg 4] The Punch Library of Humour Twenty-five volumes, crown 8vo, 192 pages fully illustrated
LIFE IN LONDON
COUNTRY LIFE
IN THE HIGHLANDS
SCOTTISH HUMOUR
IRISH HUMOUR
COCKNEY HUMOUR
IN SOCIETY
AFTER DINNER STORIES
IN BOHEMIA
AT THE PLAY
MR. PUNCH AT HOME
ON THE CONTINONG
RAILWAY BOOK
AT THE SEASIDE
MR. PUNCH AFLOAT
IN THE HUNTING FIELD
MR. PUNCH ON TOUR
WITH ROD AND GUN
MR. PUNCH AWHEEL
BOOK OF SPORTS
GOLF STORIES
IN WIG AND GOWN
ON THE WARPATH
BOOK OF LOVE
WITH THE CHILDREN
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EDITOR'S NOTE
In the order of our Library "Mr. Punch with the Children" comes last, yet, so continual and sincere has been the interest of the breezy little man in the children, we might well have placed this volume first. The Punch pictures, stories and jests that are concerned with the young folk are almost inexhaustible. The present collection, though containing the cream of them, comes very far indeed from reproducing them all, or even fifty per cent. For every notable artist and writer who has been much associated with Punch since 1841 has had something to say or to illustrate of the humours of child life. If genius be the power to be a child again at will, we can understand this abiding interest in the doings of the children. Mr. Punch himself resembles Peter Pan, for he has never grown up. The years roll by, but the jolly little hunchback remains as young as ever.
The variety of individuality in the children, to whom we are here introduced, is noteworthy. In the days of Leech, downright impudence seems to have been a characteristic of the young; to-day it would seem children are better mannered, even if the enfant terrible is still thriving and[Pg 6] likely to do so. There are nice children here, and naughty ones; clever and dull children; pretty and ugly children—the mischievous are chiefly memories of last generation! Phil May's children are all clearly of the "gutter snipe" order, in which he delighted, full of character and a somewhat pathetic humour; but how clean and sweet and lovable are Du Maurier's or Mr. Lewis Baumer's! Mr. Raven-Hill seems to be attracted somewhat in the same direction as Phil May; but all are interesting, and their sayings and doings are eminently worthy to be thus permanently gathered into one volume.
Boy (looking forward to a party in the evening). "Oh, mummy, baby is naughty! He has taken two things off the calendar, and made it to-morrow!"
[Pg 7] MR. PUNCH WITH THE CHILDREN
A STUDY IN EXPRESSION
A Serious Matter.—Grandfather (to Miss Pansy, who is somewhat flushed and excited). What's the matter, my pet?
Miss Pansy (aged eight). Oh, grandpa, me and my kitten have been having the most awful row. We've often quarrelled before and made it up again, but this time we're not on speaking terms.
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Bobbie (dictating letter to his sister, whom he has "squared" into writing for him). "Dear Miss Brown, please xcuse Bobbie for not bean at school sinse Tewsday has he as add twothake on Tewsday and on Wednesday he broke is harm and he ad to go to a party yesterday afternoon. If he does not come to-morrow it will be because a boy thrue a stoan at is i.—Yours trooly, Bobbie's mother."
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Presence of Mind.—Little Girl (who has been disturbed by a mouse, in a stage-whisper to her sleeping sister). "Wake up! Oh, wake up and mew, Amy; mew for your life!!"
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UNIMAGINATIVE
Auntie. "Do you see the hair in this old brooch, Cyril? It was your great-grandfather's."
Cyril. "I say, Auntie, he didn't have much!"
Auntie. Well, Effie, did you enjoy your party last night?
Effie. Very much, thank you, auntie.
Auntie. And I suppose mamma was there to look after you?
Effie. Oh no! Mamma and I don't belong to the same set!
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NICE NEPHEW!
Tommy. "Talking of riddles, Uncle, do you know the difference between an apple and a elephant?"
Uncle (benignly). "No, my lad, I don't."
Tommy. "You'd be a smart chap to send out to buy apples, wouldn't you?"
A Precautionary Measure.—"Now go to school, and be a good boy. And mind you don't use any rude words!"
"Rude words! Tell me a few, mummy, and then I shall know, you know!"
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A "CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTOR"
Governess. "Now, just one more subtraction sum——"
Dolly. "Oh, Miss Crawford, I don't fink mummie would let me do any more of those sums, 'cause in them you borrow ten and pay back only one, and that's cheating!"
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A GREAT AMBITION
Little Girl (watching her mother fixing hatpins through her hat). "When will I be old enough, mummy, to have holes made in my head to keep my hat on?"
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Rehearsal for Private Theatricals on Boxing-Day.—Master Brown (leading tragedian, who has been studying a fearful blood-curdling old melodrama, entering suddenly). "Here are the letters. Two million pounds is the price of my silence!"
Walking Home from the Pantomime.—Little Chris (who usually goes to bed very early). Mamma, have all the angels been to Drury Lane to-night?
Mamma. No, darling? Why?
Little Chris (pointing to the stars). 'Cause they've kept the lamps up there lighted so late.
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Our Christmas Tea.—Unregenerate Youth. "Pass the seedy caike!" Vicar's Daughter. "If——? If——?" Unregenerate Youth. "If 'e don't I'll shove 'im in the faice!"
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THE PROBLEM.
Samuel. "Muvver, does a hen lay an egg when it likes or must it?"
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A Grand-Daughter of Eve.—Mamma (to Molly, who has scratched and bitten her French nurse, and who won't be sorry for her behaviour). "Oh, Molly, don't you know who it is puts such wicked thoughts into your head?" Molly. "Ah, yes, the scratching! But to bite Félicie was quite my own idea!"
[Pg 18]Rogues Falling Out.—Mamma. What is baby crying for, Maggie?
Maggie. I don't know.
Mamma. And what are you looking so 'ndignant about?
Maggie. That nasty, greedy dog's been and took and eaten my 'punge-take!
Mamma. Why, I saw you eating a sponge-cake a minute ago!
Maggie. O—that was baby's!
A Scientific Nursery Definition.—Little Algy Muffin. What's the meaning of bric-à-brac, that mamma was talking about to Colonel Crumpet?
Little Chris Crumpet. Those things we mustn't play bricks with, a-fear we'll break them.
Poetry for Schoolboys.—Little Tommy Tender, who received a flogging the week before his holidays, says his feelings were the contrary of those felt by the poet, when he penned the touching line—
"My grief lies onward, and my joy behind."[Pg 19]
Logical.—Little Bobby (whose mamma is very particular, and is always telling him to wash his face and hands). "Mummy dear! I do wish I was a little black boy." Mamma. "My dear Bobby, you generally are." Little Bobby. "Oh, I mean really black. Then you wouldn't see when I was dirty."
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EVERYTHING CAN BE EXPLAINED
Cissie (who has never seen an Archdeacon before). "Dick, that old clergyman has got gaiters on. What does it mean when a clergyman wears gaiters?"
Dick (who knows everything). "Oh, it means that he belongs to the cyclist corps!"
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"WHAT MAISIE KNEW"
Kind Aunt. "You needn't be afraid of my little pug, Maisie. He won't bite you."
Maisie. "No, auntie. But he might kick!"
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Bobby. "Do you know what daddy calls you, Mr. Tovey?"
Mr. Tovey. "No Bobby. What is it?"
Bobby. "He calls you Port Arthur, 'cause you take so long to surrender!"
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Little Girl (to mother, who has just read notice). "I suppose, mother, it doesn't mention which half of the poor thing we are to look for?"
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Juvenile Geography.—Governess. The earth moves round the sun ... it takes a whole year to complete the round ... and this accounts for the four seasons. What are the four seasons of the year, Phyllis?
Phyllis (aged five). This year, next year, sometime, never.
"It's a Wise Child that knows its own Father."—Grace. Harold, why did pa call that Mr. Blowhard a liar?
Harold. 'Cos he's smaller than pa!
A Little Learning.—Teacher. And who was Joan of Arc?
Scholar. Please, sir, Noah's wife.
A Little Stepmother.—Uncle. Hullo! Dot, got a new doll?
Little Miss Dot. Hush, uncle, don't speak too loud. She is not one of my own, but belonged to Millie Simpson, who was cruel to her and 'bandoned her, so I have 'dopted her; but I don't want her to know, because I mean to make no difference between her and my own dollies.
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A POSER
Katie (in consternation). "Oh, mother, how will Santa Claus do about that poor man's stockings?"
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The Return Invitation.—"Please, Mrs. Subbubs, mamma says she'll be glad if you'll come to tea on Monday." "With pleasure, Bessie. Tell your mother it's really too kind——" "Oh, no! mamma says she'll be glad when it's over."
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"Did our hat-rack walk about and have only two pegs, once, auntie?"
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Stable Talk.—The General. "That's a funny sort of horse you've got there, Cuthbert." Cuthbert. "Yes, gran'pa. You see he's been 'eating his head off' all the winter!"
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Severe Mother. "You naughty boy! How dare
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