Mr. Punch's After-Dinner Stories, J. A. Hammerton and John Leech [carter reed .TXT] 📗
- Author: J. A. Hammerton and John Leech
Book online «Mr. Punch's After-Dinner Stories, J. A. Hammerton and John Leech [carter reed .TXT] 📗». Author J. A. Hammerton and John Leech
6 P.M.—Come down early, to get a table. Can't. All the tables booked a week in advance. Very angry. Manager says he'll see what can be done for me—later on. Fairly satisfied. He had better!
7 P.M.—In state of heat. Have a fair appetite. Ask for table. "What table?" "The one promised me—later on." "Very sorry, but they are all engaged." Awfully angry. Explain that I am a person of some importance. Can do the place a great deal of good if I do have a table, and vice versâ. Manager desolated. See everybody else stuffing, drinking, and enjoying themselves. How they can have the heart! And I table-less! But, no matter, a time will come. I'll write to "the leading journal" and denounce everything and everybody.
7.15 P.M.—Explosively wrathful. At last! Ha! ha! Got a table. But at the back somewhere.[Pg 138] Strong smell of cooking. Distant echo of a band. Exceedingly annoyed. Have tasted hors d'œuvres. Sardines decent.
7.20 P.M.—Bonne Femme soup good. Have ordered champagne cup. Still annoyed.
7.30 P.M.—Salmon mayonnaise distinctly excellent. Good idea to have cold dinner. Champagne cup well brewed. Don't notice the smell of cooking. Can hear the band. Nice band.
7.40 P.M.—Pâté de fois gras en aspic. Capital Cold joint. First-rate. Salad artistically mixed. Second champagne cup as good as first. After all, place of table not so bad.
[Pg 139]
A True Artist.—Mamma (to Tommy, who has been allowed for a few minutes to wait at table). "Now, Tommy, kiss me, and go to bed."
Tommy (to footman). "Do you ever kiss the missus, Charles?"
Footman. "No, sir!"
Tommy. "Then I won't!"
[Pg 140] THE MENU A LA MODECome, Damon, since again we've met
We'll feast right royally to-night,
The groaning table shall be set
With every seasonable delight!
The luscious bivalve ... I forgot,
The oyster is an arch-deceiver,
And makes its eater's certain lot
A bad attack of typhoid fever.
With soup, then, be it thick or clear,
The banquet fitly may commence—
Alas, on second thoughts, I fear
With soup as well we must dispense.
The doctors urge that, in effect,
Soup simply kills the thoughtless glutton.
It's full of germs. I recollect
They say the same of beef and mutton.
Yes, each variety of meat,
As you remark, is much the same,
And we're forbidden now to eat
Fish, oysters, poultry, joint or game.
But though a Nemesis each brings,
The punishment, the doctors tell, is
As nothing to the awful things
Awaiting all who toy with jellies.
[Pg 142]"Cheese—that is not condemned with these
Yet ample evidence we find
To make us, Damon, look on cheese
As simply poison to mankind;
While those who may desire to pass
Immediately o'er Charon's ferry,
Have but to take a daily glass
Of claret, hock, champagne or sherry.
And therefore, Damon, you and I,
Who fain would live a year at least,
Reluctantly must modify
The scope of our projected feast;
A charcoal biscuit we will share,
Water (distilled, of course,) we'll swallow,
Since this appears the only fare
On which destruction will not follow!
[Pg 141]
SMALL SOCIAL AGONIES
Hostess. "It's but a poor lunch I can give you! But my cook has got influenza!"
Enfant terrible. "Oh, mummy, you always say that!"
[Pg 143]
Quite A Novelty.—Amiable Experimentalist. "Makes a delicious side dish, doesn't it? But it is not the common mushroom; it's a large fungus, called the agaricus procerus. It grows solitary in hedge rows, is called colubrinus, from the snake-like markings on its stem. The pileus is covered with scales, which are formed by the breaking-up of the mud-coloured epidermis, and——" [General panic takes place
[Pg 144] THE DIRGE OF THE DINER A Restore-Wrong Rhyme"Attendance is charged in the bill!
Delighted we sit down to dine;
And order our food and our wine.
The waiter is passing polite,
We eat with a grand appetite
Of dishes compounded with skill.
The room is so cosy and light;
The glass and the silver are bright;
Our flag of defiance is furled,
We seem all at peace with the world,
And rest quite contented until——
Attendance is charged one and nine.
We pay its collector a fine;
And give to the waiter polite
A tip he regards as his right
And duty of ours to fulfil!
The carver, too, looks for a fee;
The man with our coat, so does he!
The porter expects something more,
Who calls us a cab at the door!——
"Attendance is charged in the bill!"
[Pg 145]
The Golden Key.—Mr. Montgomerie. "Ah! my dear boys, you're right. The extent to which our English system of 'tipping' has grown is something monstrous! Why, I can assure you—that—at some of the big country houses I stop at, it costs me a ten-pound note to get out of 'em!"
Jones (to his neighbour, sotto voce). "Wonder how much it costs him to get into 'em?"
[Pg 146] THE ECONOMICS OF SMOKING BY JOSEPH FUME.The man who smokes half his cigar, and puts the remainder by, knows nothing about smoking.
The man who carries no cigar-case has no right to levy contributions on those who do.
Never buy a cigar at a chemist's, they are sure to remind you of their origin. I once knew a chemist, who also sold wine and cigars, and I am sure he could only have had one workshop for his three businesses, and that was his laboratory.
Mistrust the tobacco that is given in half-payment of a bill. Such dealers may be clever in drawing a bill, but it is rarely that their cigars are distinguished for being good "drawers."
The man who smokes with wine is quite capable of taking sugar with oysters.
[Pg 147]
Annals of a Retired Suburb.—The Montgomery Joneses celebrated their wedding-day by giving a dinner on an unusually magnificent scale to some of their London friends. Unfortunately, an unexpected change in the weather during the afternoon has made the road up the hill rather heavy, so that the London friends omit to turn up.
[Pg 148] PROVERBS FOR TABLESet a thief to catch a thief:
Think of this when eating beef.
All that glitters is not gold:
Think of this when that beef's cold.
Harm is done by too much zeal:
Think of this when eating veal.
Life's a jest, and all things show it:
Think of this when drinking Moet.
Happiness flies Court for garret:
Think of this when drinking claret.
Gold may oft be bought too dear:
Think of this when drinking beer.
Many littles make a mickle:
Think of this when eating pickle.
Silent fools may pass for wise:
Think of this when eating rice.
Unto Rome conduct all roads:
Think of this when eating toads.
Flog first fault: principiis obsta,
Think of this when eating lobster.
While grass grows the horse may starve:
Think of this when asked to carve.
[Pg 150]Shake the tree when fruit is ripe:
Think of this when eating tripe.
Fools build houses, wise men buy:
Think of this when eating pie.
Pause, ere leaping in the dark:
Think of this when eating lark.
Punctual pay gets willing loan:
Think of this when drinking Beaune.
Wisdom asks fruits, but Folly flowers:
Think o' this when eating cauliflowers.
Birds of a feather flock together:
Think of this when the idiot of a
cook has boiled the oysters in the sauce,
and made them as tough as leather.
[Pg 149]
THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID
Hostess. "What fun you seem to be having over there, Captain Smiley! I wish you all sat at this end of the table!"
[Pg 151]
Waiter (who has "seen better days"—absently, as he pours out the champagne). "Say when!"
[Pg 152] SPRING-CLEANING."In Spring when woods are getting green,"
My wife begins the house to clean,
And I am driven from this scene,
Of scrub-land.
The mops and pails left on the stairs
I come across, quite unawares,
And break my shins and utter—prayers,
For tub-land.
In clouds of dust I choke and cough,
Such draughts! My hat I dare not doff,
I'd go (if I were not a toff)
To pub-land.
But—mum—I won't kick up a shine
Nor of delight give any sign,
But, quietly, I'm off to dine
In Club-land.
A Soaker's Paradise.—Dropmore.
A Monster Meeting.—A giant and a dwarf.
Poetical Licence.—A music-hall's.
Turf Reform.—Mowing the lawn.
[Pg 153]
Quiet Man (as a particularly "steep" story of adventure comes to a close). "Er—will somebody pass the salt, please?"
[Pg 154]
Adolphus (grandly; he is giving his future brother-in-law a little dinner down the river). "Waitar—you can—ah—leave us!"
Old Waiter. "Hem!—yessir—but—you'll pard'n me, sir—we've so many gents—'don't wish to impute nothink, sir—but master—'fact is, sir—(evidently feels a delicacy about mentioning it)—we're—you see, sir—'sponsible for the plate, sir!!!"
[Pg 155]
GRAND BURNS' FESTIVAL—BROWN ENTERTAINS HIS FRIEND WI' A HAGGIS!
[Pg 156]
DISCLAIMER BY A DINER-OUT
Abolish party? Whose delight were greater
Than mine? I hail the chance with rapture hearty.
But oh! I can't agree with the Spectator,
Who'd do away with—gods!—the dinner party!
No, let us compromise,—we'll all be winners,—
And firmly banish party from our dinners!
Sympathy (Scene—In front of Mrs. R.'s house)
Mrs. Ramsbotham (paying Cabman). You look all right to-day.
Cabman. Ah, mum! my looks don't pity me. I suffer from a tarpaulin liver.
Mrs. R. (correcting). A torpedo liver, you mean.
[Cabman accepts the correction, and an extra shilling]
[Pg 157]
Happy Thought.—Sir Pompey Bedell (poking the fire in his new smoking-room). "This wretched chimney has got into a most objectionable way of smoking. A—I can't cure it." Bedell Junior. "Just give it a couple of your cigars, governor!—it'll never smoke again!"
[Pg 158] [Pg 159]
"CRAMMING"
Affectionate Uncle. "Glad to see you, Rupert. Now tell me all about it. What form are you in, old boy?"
Nephew (just returned from Harrow). "Well, uncle, not so bad, I think. I can generally manage a couple of eggs, two sausages, or kidneys, some Dundee marmalade, and two cups of coffee for breakfast. I always have a little luncheon, any amount of roast beef or mutton for dinner, and I generally look in at the confectioner's in the afternoon, and invariably wind up with a good supper. What do you think of that?"
[Disappointed and misunderstood uncle subsides, and thinks it best to make no comments.
[Pg 160]
Old Gentleman (who has not hurried over his dinner, and has just got his bill). "Waiter, what's this? I'm charged here twopence for stationery. You know I've had none——"
Irish
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