Mr. Punch's Book of Love: Being the Humours of Courtship and Matrimony by Hammerton et al. (urban books to read TXT) 📖

FOREWARNED

Claude Merridew, leaderette-writer, reviewer, &c. (sentimentally). "Whenever I think of Alth�a, Miss Vansittart I mean, I am irresistibly reminded of those matchless words of Steele's—'To love her was a liberal education.'"

Algy (following the idea with difficulty). "That's all right, old man, that's all right, 'course I know a lot of you writin' chaps are like that, but I think I ought to tell you that her father is one of the head johnnies in the Primrose League."

[Pg 176]

How suggestive is the new year of bills; and bills of housekeeping. It is fearful to reflect how many persons rush into matrimony, totally unprepared for the awful change that awaits them. A man may take a wife at twenty-one, before he knows the difference between a chip and a Leghorn! We would no more grant a marriage licence to anybody simply because he is of age, than a licence, on that ground only, to practise as an apothecary. Husbands ought to be educated. We should like to have the following[Pg 178] questions put to young and inexperienced "Persons about to Marry:"—

Are you aware, sir, of the price of coals and candles?

Do you know which is more economical, the aitch-bone, or the round?

How far, young man, will a leg of mutton go in a small family?

How much dearer, now, is silver than Britannia?

Please to give the average price of a four-poster.

Declare, if you can, rash youth, the sum, per annum, that chemisettes, pelerines, cardinals, bonnets, veils, caps, ribbons, flowers, gloves, cuffs, and collars, would probably come to in the lump.

If unable to answer these inquiries, we would say to him, "Go back to school."

He that would be a husband should also undergo a training, physical and moral. He should be further examined thus:—

Can you read or write amid the yells of a nursery?

Can you wait any given time for breakfast?

Can you maintain your serenity during a washing-day?

Can you cut your old friends?

Can you stand being contradicted in the face of all reason?

Can you keep your temper when you are not listened to?

Can you do what you are told without being told why?

In a word, young sir, have you the patience of Job?

[Pg 182]

If you can lay your hand upon your heart and answer "Yes," take your licence and marry—not else.

To Policemen about to Marry.—When you are about to marry, visit as many cooks as you can, so as to give you the widest possible area for your choice. Avoid housemaids, whose occupation does not admit of the accumulation of much dust to come down with; and remember that there is nothing like kitchen-stuff for greasing the wheel of fortune. When married, a policeman will be justified in living above his station—if he can get a room there for nothing.

(By a Commonplace Person)

To thee, were I a humble bee,

I'd hourly wing my honeyed flight;

To thee, were I a ship at sea,

I'd sail, tho' land were in my sight:

To thee, were I a pussy cat,

I'd spring, as tho' 'twere on a rat!

To thee, were I a stickleback

I'd swim as fast as fins could move;

To thee, were I a hunter's hack,

I'd gallop on the hoofs of love:

But as I'm but a simple man,

I'll come by train, love—if I can!

[Pg 177]

He. "Are you still living at the same address in town, Mrs. Jones?"

She. "Yes. But since I've become a widow, I've been looking for another flat!"

[Pg 179]

Miss Short. "Isn't my name an absurd misfit, Mr. Long?"

Mr. Long (thoughtlessly). "Yes, rather. If you could have mine it would be all right, wouldn't it?"

Miss Short. "Oh, Mr. Long, this is so sudden!"

[Pg 180]

THE ALTERNATIVE

The Doctor. "Well, Mrs. Barnes, I must offer you my congratulations. I hear you've married again. And have you given up your occupation of washing?"

Mrs. Barnes. "Oh, no, sir. But, you see, if I 'adn't taken 'e, I'd 'a' 'ad to 'a' bought a donkey!"

[Pg 181]

"Now, George dear, it's your first birthday in the new century. What good resolutions are you going to make?"

"Well, for one thing, I intend to be much more regular in my habits."

"Why not give them all up, dear?"

[Pg 183]

FAMILY CARES

First Excursionist. "Int'restin' ruins these, sir."

Second Ditto (the bread-winner). "'Mye-es. 'Don't care for ruins m'self though." (Pointing to his olive branches in the background.) "Them's ruin enough for me?"

[Pg 184]

WHOM NOT TO MARRY:

Or, Diogenes the Younger

The Lady with a Mission.—She will fill your house with parsons or professors, lecture you on her pet hobby when she can get no other audience (which will be pretty often), consider all your old friends frivolous, and treat you with supreme contempt if you venture to hint that you like your dinner punctually, and properly cooked.

The Lady of Fashion.—She will regard you as an appendage, a cheque-drawing animal, a useful purveyor of equipages and dresses and diamonds and lace, a person to be ignored as much as possible in Society.

The Millionaire's Daughter.—She will persistently make you aware that it is her house you live in, her carriage you drive, that the servants are hers, the dinners hers—that, in fact, she has bought you, and given for you much more than you are really worth.

The Pious-Parochial Lady.—She will devote all her time to the distribution of tracts, the inspection of cottages, the collection of gossip, and interviews with the curate. Each curate will be a more "blessed" man than his predecessor, especially if he have the shifty eyes, aggressive teeth, narrow forehead, and shambling knees which modern curatism has developed.

The Female Novelist. She will sit up all night writing improprieties, and pass all day in town,[Pg 188] worrying publishers, who are at present sad victims of the irrepressible petticoat.

The Horsey Woman. She will laugh at you as a muff if you don't ride across country, buy "screws" from her particular friends that you will have to sell for as many tens as she gave hundreds, and cost you a fortune in doctors' bills by breaking her collar-bone at least once every season.

The Gushing Female. She will devour you with kisses, to the injury of your shirt-front, or weep on your bosom, with much the same result. To her either is equally delightful.

The Widow. Diogenes pauses. The theme is too great for him. Vide Mr. Weller, sen., in Pickwick, passim.

TRITE BUT TRUE

"Music's the food of love" they say,

This is a passage every one now quotes;

The truth is clear, for in the present day,

Young love is fed entirely on notes.

"Our Failures."—Husband. "I say, Lizzie, what on earth did you make this mint-sauce of?"

Young Wife (who has been "helping" Cook). "Parsley, to be sure!"

[Pg 185]

APPEARANCES ARE DECEPTIVE

He. "Who's that?"

She. "Jack Anstruther and his bride. He married ever so much beneath him."

He. "Doesn't look like it!"

[Pg 186]

BREAKING THE NEWS

Newly Affianced One. "May I be your new mamma, Tommy?"

Tommy. "I should like it, but you must ask papa."

[Pg 187]

ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER

She. "But if you say you can't bear the girl, why ever did you propose?"

He. "Well, her people have always been awfully good to me, and it's the only way I could return their hospitality."

[Pg 189]

Ethel. "Well, Jimmy didn't blow his brains out after all because you refused him. He proposed to Miss Golightly yesterday."

Maud. "Did he? Then he must have got rid of them in some other way!"

[Pg 190]

Advice to Match-making Mammas.—The first and only thing requisite is simply, as Mrs. Glass very wisely says, "First catch your heir."

A Happy Holiday.—The Bachelor. "So you're looking after the house while your wife is taking a holiday? I hope she's enjoying the change?"

The Benedict. "I know I am."

"Creature Comforts."—Good wives.

How to Cure an Imprudent Attachment.—Materfamilias. "What is to be done, my dear? He positively dotes on her!" Paterfamilias. "Well, we must try to find him an antidote."

Divorce.—A matrimonial ticket-of-leave.

The Desire of Pleasing.—"May I be married, ma?" said a lovely girl of fifteen to her mother the other morning. "Married!" exclaimed the astonished matron, "what put such an idea into your head?" "Little Emily, here, has never seen a wedding; and I'd like to amuse the child," replied the obliging sister, with fascinating na�vet�.

A Woman's Will.—Won't!!!

[Pg 191]