A GREAT ANCHOVY CASE.

"We won't go home till morningTill daylight doth appear."

"We won't go home till morning

Till daylight doth appear."

"Burgess and Son," whose name will go down to posterity in a cruet-stand, have lately been throwing their fish-sauce into Chancery, and an equity judge has been discussing the essence of anchovies with agustoquite remarkable. The barristers engaged in the matter have doubtless verified the fact, that little fish are sweet, for the anchovies have of course yielded some pretty little fees to pretty little juniors.Messrs. CampbellandMoorewere on one side, whileMr. BaconandMr. Nelsonrepresented the anchovies on the other side, and counsel pushed about the anchovy bottle from the Court below to the Court above, with a determination to bring the sauce of Burgess to the very fountain of equity. The great anchovy case has been already before the Vice Chancellor and the Lords Justices, but whether the parties will carry their "sauce" up to the Lords is at present dependent probably on how they may be "advised" by learned counsel to go on expending money in litigation, or "if not why not," or "how otherwise."

Hosts on the Danube's banks are felledTo please one man's ambitious whim;And yet there is no inquest held,No Hue-and-Cry raised after him.His likeness, true, the shops expose;His hair, his eyes, are in the News,And every Constant Reader knowsHow high he stands without his shoes.But how he sleeps, of what partakes,In food and drink, from day to day,What casual remarks he makes,The newspapers omit to say.We know that he persists in liesOf quite an inconsistent kind.But not that any chaplain triesTo rectify his frame of mind.For wholesale murder does not meetThe doom that waits the single crime,The exaltation in the street,The carrion-crows, or grave of lime.The head with an Imperial crownTo deck its slant or flattened top,Will never,Donovan, come downAmong its fellows in thy shop.Where, in King William Street, the Strand,Thy window shows to public viewThe culprits of the red right hand,Whom hemp andMr. Calcraftslew.BishopandWilliams,BurkeandHare,Courvoisier—that fiend in plush—At whom the people come to stare,WithThurtell,Greenacre, andRush.

Hosts on the Danube's banks are felledTo please one man's ambitious whim;And yet there is no inquest held,No Hue-and-Cry raised after him.

Hosts on the Danube's banks are felled

To please one man's ambitious whim;

And yet there is no inquest held,

No Hue-and-Cry raised after him.

His likeness, true, the shops expose;His hair, his eyes, are in the News,And every Constant Reader knowsHow high he stands without his shoes.

His likeness, true, the shops expose;

His hair, his eyes, are in the News,

And every Constant Reader knows

How high he stands without his shoes.

But how he sleeps, of what partakes,In food and drink, from day to day,What casual remarks he makes,The newspapers omit to say.

But how he sleeps, of what partakes,

In food and drink, from day to day,

What casual remarks he makes,

The newspapers omit to say.

We know that he persists in liesOf quite an inconsistent kind.But not that any chaplain triesTo rectify his frame of mind.

We know that he persists in lies

Of quite an inconsistent kind.

But not that any chaplain tries

To rectify his frame of mind.

For wholesale murder does not meetThe doom that waits the single crime,The exaltation in the street,The carrion-crows, or grave of lime.

For wholesale murder does not meet

The doom that waits the single crime,

The exaltation in the street,

The carrion-crows, or grave of lime.

The head with an Imperial crownTo deck its slant or flattened top,Will never,Donovan, come downAmong its fellows in thy shop.

The head with an Imperial crown

To deck its slant or flattened top,

Will never,Donovan, come down

Among its fellows in thy shop.

Where, in King William Street, the Strand,Thy window shows to public viewThe culprits of the red right hand,Whom hemp andMr. Calcraftslew.

Where, in King William Street, the Strand,

Thy window shows to public view

The culprits of the red right hand,

Whom hemp andMr. Calcraftslew.

BishopandWilliams,BurkeandHare,Courvoisier—that fiend in plush—At whom the people come to stare,WithThurtell,Greenacre, andRush.

BishopandWilliams,BurkeandHare,

Courvoisier—that fiend in plush—

At whom the people come to stare,

WithThurtell,Greenacre, andRush.

A gentleman namedBoddyappears, from the police reports of last week, to have very properly rescued his daughter (a silly young lady who left her own for a "Servant's Home") from the clutches of the Papist perverters who are so constantly busied in destroying the happiness of families. The magistrate seems to have doubted his power, but could he not have dealt with the reverend revivalists as Boddy-snatchers? Surely a surplus letter ought not to have prevented the precise punishment the culprits deserved.

Mr. Cobden.Why are the selfish agitators among the operatives like the works of a clock out of order?

Mr. Bright.Because they insist upon striking, without regard to the position of the hands.

Mr. Cobden.You are quite right, my dearBright.

SCENE.-A LONELY SQUARESCENE.-A LONELY SQUARE.Time.—Midnight.Timid Swell (loq)."Take my money, take my Watch, take evewything; but pway sparemy collars!"

Time.—Midnight.

Timid Swell (loq)."Take my money, take my Watch, take evewything; but pway sparemy collars!"

(BeforeMr. Serjeant Eves,Assistant-Judge.)

Joseph Gubbins,aliasCrabb,aliasBloomfield,aliastheGrinner, was charged with stealing a pewter pot, value one shilling, from the rails of a house in Millbank Street.Mr. Slasherprosecuted, andMr. Crasherdefended the prisoner. The case was distinctly proved.

The Judge.Now,Joe, have you anything to say?

Mr. Crasherobjected to the prisoner being addressed asJoe. He firmly believed, upon his sacred honour, that such a misdescription vitiated the whole proceedings. At all events he called on the Judge to take a note of the point.

The Judge.I shan't. Stuff and nonsense. The objection is not worth twopence.

Mr. Crasher.It's worth fourpence at least, but it is quite in keeping with all that goes on here that a Judge should not know the value of a Joe.

The Judge.That's slang, and though a Counsel ought to be slangy, a Judge ought not.

Mr. Crasher.I am quite prepared to hear the independence of the Bar assailed, and the freedom of speech, which every authority fromHeliogabalusdown toBlackstonedeclares the right of an advocate, stigmatized as slang. But it will not prevent my doing my duty.

The Judge.Do your duty. Who stops you? Do your duty. Who'sHeliogabalus, and what'sHeliogabalusto do withJoseph Gubbins? This is the way the time of the Court is wasted.

Mr. Crasher.As the Court concedes the point, and calls the prisoner by his name, I shall not pursue the argument.

The Judge.You may do as you like.

Mr. Crasher.I know I may.

The Judge.I'm glad you know it.

Mr. Crasher.I'm glad you are pleased.

The Judge.Very well.

Mr. Crasher.Very well.

The Judge.Joseph Gubbins, you have been very properly found guilty of stealing a pot—I mean you will be in a moment—eh gentlemen? (Jury nod.) Of course. You have been found guilty of stealing a pot. Now pot-stealing is a crime which is injurious to the public weal—-

Mr. Slasher.And public-house.

The Judge.Ha! ha! very good. I laugh, you see,Mr. Crasher, to show that I am undisturbed in my temper.

Mr. Crasher.I have no objection, Sir, to your laughing at my learned friend, in fact I do so myself ten times a day.

Mr. Slasher."All fools have still an itching to deride."

Mr. Crasher.If the Court stands that, of course I can.

Mr. Slasher.The Court is sitting.

Mr. Crasher.Is it?

Mr. Slasher.Of course it is.

Mr. Crasher.Ah!

Mr. Slasher.Ah too, if you come to that.

[The Judge joins in the repartees, which are protracted so long thatMr. Gubbinstakes off his shoe, and swears that unless his sentence is passed he will "shy it" (to use his objectionable expression) "at the old un's nob." He is condemned to three months' imprisonment, and the next case is called.]

Every "family man" will appreciate the annoyance of being called on frequently for "a new gown;" but the most expensive milliner's bill would be a mere song—to a moderate tune—compared with the cost of a "new gown" for theLord Mayor of London. In the evidence before the City Corporation Commission we find it stated byMr. Acland, that

"There is an amount of seven guineas paid for a violet gown for theLord Mayor. In another instance there is an item of £17 for theLord Mayor'ssilk violet gown. On the occasion of theDuke of Wellington'sfuneral, there is a sum of £72 for theLord Mayor'ssilk gown."

We cannot pretend to understand either the necessity for such an extensive stock of gowns as theLord Mayorseems to possess, or for such a frightful fluctuation in the price of one and the same article. We know of no system of arithmetic or rule of three by which we are to get a solution of the question: "If aLord Mayor'sgown cost £7 at one time, and £17 at another time, why is it to cost £72 at a subsequent period?" We can only say thatas£7is not to£17,so cannot be£72 by any rule or principle whatever.

Man thrown from horse

Some very pleasing horsemanship at Drury Lane is being marred by some very obnoxious assmanship on the part of sundry clowns engaged, we suppose, for the purpose of marking the contrast between the stupidity of bipeds, and the sagacity of quadrupeds. We have no objection to the old Astleyan Clown, who is continually wanting to know what he shall "go for to fetch for to bring for to carry," but we must protest against the modern school of buffoons who, under the ambitious title of "Shaksperianjesters," or some other pseudonyme, inflict their dull platitudes on an impatient audience. Directly a clown becomes too fat to tumble, or too stupid to play the fool in the ordinary way, he adopts the name of "Shaksperian" and bores the public with long lectures, which he fancies may be received as instructive, because they happen to be the very opposite of entertaining—- just as if a man ceasing to be an amusing fool must of necessity become a philosopher.

The "clown to the ring" is, in fact, becoming a perfect nuisance: and we only wonder that the horses do not become low-spirited by contrast with those dreadfully dull dogs who wear the motley. It would be quite refreshing to meet with a good old conventional clown of former times, who would not be above askingWiddicomb"if his (Widdicomb's) mother is aware of his (Widdicomb's) absence from home;" or making any other of those rare old imbecile remarks which used to set us in a roar in our days of infancy. A philosophic clown to the ring is, in fact, an anomaly; for every one admits the idle absurdity of "Reasoning in a Circle."

A Good Ground for a Bad Joke.—Why is a lodging on the ground floor a degradation? Because it's a-basement!

TTO the health of towns, moral and physical, it is universally agreed, that one indispensable condition is the abolition of Slums. But then what is to become of the Slummites? The low neighborhoods may be done away with, but there is no doing away with the low neighbours; who cannot be disposed of by fire and water and poison, along with the bugs and rats and other vermin that run upon four, or more, legs. Besides, in spite of all appearances to the contrary, it is certain that they are human beings; so that we cannot, consistently either with Christianity or common law, get rid of them exactly as if they were black beetles. And if routed out of their courts and alleys, they will crawl or lie about the streets, or, making themselves still more unpleasant, die under our noses.

TO the health of towns, moral and physical, it is universally agreed, that one indispensable condition is the abolition of Slums. But then what is to become of the Slummites? The low neighborhoods may be done away with, but there is no doing away with the low neighbours; who cannot be disposed of by fire and water and poison, along with the bugs and rats and other vermin that run upon four, or more, legs. Besides, in spite of all appearances to the contrary, it is certain that they are human beings; so that we cannot, consistently either with Christianity or common law, get rid of them exactly as if they were black beetles. And if routed out of their courts and alleys, they will crawl or lie about the streets, or, making themselves still more unpleasant, die under our noses.

It therefore becomes necessary to provide them with proper abodes. Suburban kennels and pigsties will not do, as it is necessary that they should reside near enough to their work. Model Lodging Houses, therefore, well supplied with water, and arranged in all other respects with reference to the prevention of effluvia, have been suggested instead, as intramural habitations for the inferior classes. To these the only objection is their name.

The gentlemen who inhabit a certain double row of buildings contiguous to and parallel with the Burlington Arcade would be, most of them, disgusted, if those edifices were spoken of as Model Lodging Houses.

But there is good reason to believe that not only have the lower classes the same number of members—in an anatomical if not in a parliamentary sense—as the higher, but that they are really endowed with essentially even the same passions and feelings. Among other sentiments it has been ascertained that they possess those of pride and vanity, which are not only exasperated by scorn and contumely—as when they are called the scum of the earth, the riff-raff, and the rabble—but also by contemptuous patronage: by all sorts of badges, whether metallic or verbal. There is something of the latter sort of badge in the term "Model Lodging Houses." The expression is low; suggests an invidious distinction of caste: a state of degradation descending almost to pauperism.

To meet this objection it is proposed to erect a building containing little suites of small apartments, adapted to the requirements and circumstances of the poorer portion of the people, to be called "The Industrious Albany;" industrious for the sake of distinction; or, if a more explanatory title shall be preferred, "Cheap Chambers." Ventilation and Warmth combined with Comfort and Cleanliness are to preside over the interior arrangements, and the external proportions are to be regulated by architectural taste, whilst the rent will be fixed at the most economical figure. Investments of capital in this promising speculation, to any amount, may be paid into the Office, 85, Fleet Street.

TheEmperor Nicholaswishes anerratumcorrected in the next edition of our dictionaries. He begs to say that he has discovered that an Ottoman isnota thing upon which you easily and comfortably place your foot.

Progress of Science.—A Scientific Hair-dresser at the West-End is about to favour the ladies with the discovery of a wonderful new Pommade, which, he guarantees, "will prevent the bonnet falling off the head."

We see, in the reports of the City Commission, that there is a situation with the above singular title. We wonder, in the name of everything that's wonderful, what are the duties of this curious functionary? What is there to hang, excepting the birdcage with the dingy canary, belonging to the porter, at the entrance door? There may be a few play-bills, also, and some steamboat placards; does "the Upholsterer" go every morning to hang these outside the railings? What is the furniture that is inside the Monument? and where is it stowed away? Or is the "Upholsterer" engaged to keep the flutes of the columns clean? Or is it his particular duty to rub up the Panorama of London that is viewed from its summit? There is no other picture that we are acquainted with, belonging to the Monument, excepting the picture of London's busy traffic across London Bridge, and surely this is a picture beyond the "Upholsterer's" reach? One would imagine from the fact of the Monument having an "Upholsterer," that there were chairs, tables, four-post bedsteads, curtains, and a regular houseful of furniture locked up inside it. We shall pay a visit to the Monument the first fine day there is no fog, and bring away with us an inventory of the furniture. In the meantime, we should like to be informed of the amount of salary of this "Upholsterer," who has to look after a place that contains no Upholstery.

In reply to a request for information where to get the Blue Books which are granted to Mechanics' Institutions, "A Provincial Secretary," writing to theTimes, says that he received the following official directions; that is to say, he was told

"To make application at the proper season to the clerk of the committee, to be appointed pursuant to the report of the House of Commons on Parliamentary papers, ordered to be printed on the 7th of July last."

This the "Provincial Secretary" wants translated for the benefit of himself and other country gentlemen. The passage may be construed thus:—

At certain times of the year, and between certain hours, which will be appointed hereafter but are not fixed yet, apply to somebody who will perhaps be the clerk of a committee which does not at present exist but will, one of these days, in conformity with a report of the House of Commons on Parliamentary Papers, which was ordered to be printed on the 7th of July last, be constituted, if that report shall ever be acted on.

The translation is rather longer than the original; but if brevity is required to be the soul of official advice, the answer might simply have been "Arrangements have not been made," to which, if any further explanation were necessary, might have been added, "And when they will be, Heaven only knows."

We were going to say that the fact of a noble Lord having passed the Bankruptcy Court the other day as a horse-dealer, gives strong confirmation to the saying that we are a nation of shop-keepers. But perhaps a horse-bazaar or repository cannot be properly called a shop; and though the horse may be taken over a bar, that noble animal cannot very well be handed across a counter; thus, whatever leaps the noble lord in question may have taken, it is clear that it would be incorrect to call him a counter-jumper. His case, however, certainly tends to show that we are a highly mercantile community, since it exhibits a member of one of our principal families as a dealer in horseflesh. But the fact is, that business is practised by the aristocracy in general to a very considerable extent. Not only do some of them trade in boroughs, but also in rabbits, together with hares, pheasants, and partridges, inasmuch as they sell game. They are not ashamed of this, either: for they will converse about shooting, and not one of them ever calls on the other to sink the shop. Indeed, to sink the shop would be to sink the Island, and swamp the whole concern conducted byAberdeenandCo.

We see there is a book advertised under the above curious title. We can hardly make out what it can be, but should say at random, that the translation of it into plain English must be as follows:—Salad for the Solitary.—Let-us alone.

Nicholasexpressed a pious hope that he might never be confounded. By the thrashing which he has had from the Turks, we should think he must have been disappointed.

caricature--animal with musical instrument

At a time when certain parties are raising the price of their Ales, which were previously sold at rates considerably higher than such as would have been fairly remunerative, the Public, and especially pedestrian travellers, will be interested to learn that a light and wholesomeBeermay be obtained upon the lowest possible terms, as it will be delivered to all applicants at the mere cost of a visit to theDepôt, Porter's Lodge,St. Cross Hospital. ThisSuperior Beverageis brewed from pure Malt and Hops, according to a Homœopathic Improvement on the original Receipt handed down from the ancient Masters ofSt. Cross, and is produced in such high perfection by the present Master, theEarl of Guildford, that while the smallest quantity will suffice the most inveterate toper, the largest might be imbibed conscientiously by the strictest votary of Total Abstinence. The remarkably low charge for which this Ale is offered to the consumer is owing to the liberality of the Founders and Benefactors of the Institution; who bequeathed capital to a large amount on trust for the gratuitous supply of the genuine article to wayfarers. In Horns of Half-a-Pint each, at the rate of One Measure per Diem. To be Drunk on the Premises.

A few days ago a case was called on in one of the "Superior" Courts, when an application was made to put it off becauseMr. Bodkincould not attend. One of the judges asked with very natural surprise, "Is not the man in prison?" upon which the counsel of the "man in prison" got up, and admitted such to be the fact; but added that he, the "man in prison," was his (the counsel's) client, and that he (the counsel) was perfectly willing "to accommodateMr. Bodkin." The accommodation ofMr. Bodkinwas, no doubt, desirable in its way; but, as the accommodation of a prison is not always agreeable, we are disposed to agree with the learned judge, who thought it rather awkward—not to say, hard upon "the man in prison" to have his case adjourned for the convenience of counsel.

We are disposed to sympathise with the unfortunate who was deprived of his liberty, not by his prison's bars, but by a portion of the Bar of England, which often proves harder and more difficult to contend against than the most inflexible iron. Nevertheless he, of course, cannot complain, as although he was shut up in a jail, his own counsel who represented him in a free and open court was "perfectly satisfied," and most anxious to "accommodateMr. Bodkin." If the accommodation could have been mutual—if, for example, the prison "accommodation" and the counsel's "accommodation" could have been in some way equalised—we might have seen more justice in the arrangement than either ourselves, or the learned judge who expressed his surprise on the occasion, have been able to discover. We must all admire the extreme spirit of accommodation that prevails among many of "the gentlemen" of the Bar who—though they bully each other's clients and witnesses, waste the money of suitors by neglecting to attend to their briefs, and even occasionally suffer the postponement of the case of an unfortunate captive—are nevertheless always ready to fraternise with their "learned friends," and make any concessions to each other, of which their clients have to bear the penalty.

"Certainly," replies a strong-minded woman of our acquaintance. "Is woman made only to sew on buttons? And if she is, you have no right to turn away the Needle from the Poll."

To Several Husbands and Various Fathers.—How to make Home Happy.—Keep out of it.

In consequence of the success ofThe Lancersat the Princess's—those sameLancersbeing only another version ofThe Discarded Sonat the Adelphi—the following attractive novelties are in rehearsal, and will be speedily produced:—

"'The Blower of Bubbles'—being a new translation ofThe Game of Speculation, acted so many hundred nights at the Lyceum Theatre.Mercadet, or the Bubble-Blower(with new bubbles to be blown expressly on this occasion), byMr. Charles Kean."'The Family of the Whyte Chokers'—being a completely new version ofThe Serious Family, which was so popular a season or two ago at the Haymarket Theatre. The part of theReverend Aminadab Whyte Choker, byMr. Charles Kean, in lieu ofMr. Buckstone."'The Mountebank'—being an improved reading ofBelphegor, as performed byMr. Websterat the Adelphi Theatre.The Mountebank(so long asthe public will tolerate it) will be played byMr. Charles Kean."'The Tower of Hammer-and-Nesle'—beingThe Tower of Nesle, as generally performed at the Surrey Theatre, but retranslated and considerably improved, with new causes and effects, and a long dissertation byMr. Charles Kean, given away on the playbill, as to the period and costume of the drama, and a list of the bodies thrown into the Seine."'The Carpenter on the Road to Ruin'—being a very superior translation of a Piece, acted for many years under almost a similar title, at the Victoria Theatre.Mr. Hicks'sfavourite part ofThe CarpenterbyMr. Charles Kean."New versions ofPizarro,The Stranger, andThe Maid and the Magpiehave also been accepted, and will be produced with all the care for which the Princess's is distinguished."

"'The Family of the Whyte Chokers'—being a completely new version ofThe Serious Family, which was so popular a season or two ago at the Haymarket Theatre. The part of theReverend Aminadab Whyte Choker, byMr. Charles Kean, in lieu ofMr. Buckstone.

"'The Mountebank'—being an improved reading ofBelphegor, as performed byMr. Websterat the Adelphi Theatre.The Mountebank(so long asthe public will tolerate it) will be played byMr. Charles Kean.

"'The Tower of Hammer-and-Nesle'—beingThe Tower of Nesle, as generally performed at the Surrey Theatre, but retranslated and considerably improved, with new causes and effects, and a long dissertation byMr. Charles Kean, given away on the playbill, as to the period and costume of the drama, and a list of the bodies thrown into the Seine.

"'The Carpenter on the Road to Ruin'—being a very superior translation of a Piece, acted for many years under almost a similar title, at the Victoria Theatre.Mr. Hicks'sfavourite part ofThe CarpenterbyMr. Charles Kean.

"New versions ofPizarro,The Stranger, andThe Maid and the Magpiehave also been accepted, and will be produced with all the care for which the Princess's is distinguished."

Great hopes are entertained upon the production of the above pieces; and there can be no doubt that, having been successful at so many theatres before, they will be successful again. There can be no fear as to the acting, when the principal parts will be performed byMr. Charles Keanhimself.

MACBETH MURDERING DUNCAN BEHIND THE SCENESMACBETH MURDERING DUNCAN BEHIND THE SCENES.

The Registrar General tells us, in his report of last week, that "London is situated in a basin." We are not informed what sort of a basin we are living in, but it appears to us to be something between a pudding-basin and a slop-basin—judging from the mud and "slush" it generally contains. Whatever may be the accurate name for the utensil in which we are located, we can only say that it is a basinofwhich we should be glad to be able to wash our hands.

The Power of Evil.—A Power of Attorney.

THE BONNET-MAKER'S DREAMTHE BONNET-MAKER'S DREAM.

Because we think that the Scotch Lion is quite as comfortable in the place which custom has assigned him as he would be in any other; because we consider that Scotland will do quite well enough without a separate Secretary of State; because we are of opinion that Edinburgh should be content to rank as the second city in the empire; because we are not of opinion that the dictionary ofDr. Johnsonought, to the vexation of the author'smanes, to be remodelled on a broad Scotch basis; because, in short, we are not disposed to treat the imaginary wrongs of Scotchmen otherwise than with our usual levity, we are not, therefore, disposed to regard their well-founded complaints with any other feeling than our occasional seriousness. Now we have—we cannot say the pleasure to announce, for the announcement is one which we are grieved in having to make—we have the pleasure, such as it is, of pointing out, and calling attention to, with the view of causing to be redressed,A Real Scottish Grievance.

The Scottish grievance which we thus proclaim to be real is one which, we may say, should be framed and glazed. For it comes before us in the shape of a lithograph—dedicated to us in conjunction with a daily paper of some eminence—representing the Glasgow General Post Office; a building of two stories in height, interjacent betweenMr. Rutherford'scigar and snuff establishment, and the shop ofMr. Ruff, clockmaker; a portion of the party-wall of which last named edifice is exposed, by reason of a very shameful circumstance, reflecting the discredit of gross negligence and injustice on the Government, and, indeed, the Legislature.

That injurious and disgraceful circumstance shall be stated in an extract from a speech bySir Archibald Alison, which is printed beneath the plate:—

"The revenue from the Post Office in Glasgow has increased, in ten years, from £26,000 to £47,000; and, recollect, Glasgow is a city containing nearly 400,000 inhabitants, being second in importance to London alone. Well, the Government first bought a building for the Post Office, for the sake of economy, so ruinous that they were soon after obliged to take off the two upper stories and having done that, they were compelled to leave it for two years and a half without a roof, in the mean while taking no steps to erect a new office. The result is, that for the greatest commercial city in Scotland we have no cavalry barracks, no defences of any description, a Post Office without a roof, and yet, with an amount of wealth that may prove a tempting prize to an invader."

We will not say much about the Cavalry Barracks. Drunkenness, we know, prevails to a great extent at Glasgow; and if the people there are apt to be so disorderly as well as drunk, as not to be controllable by the ordinary police, perhaps they do require dragoons to repress their excesses. In that case, it is no doubt a shame that Glasgow should have no barracks for cavalry. But that the Glasgow Post Office wants a roof, is a substantial inconvenience and injury, a just cause of complaint, a matter for strong and sober remonstrance; for remonstrance as strong—and as sober—as Glasgow can make. A roofless house is disgraceful enough considered as indicating insolvency, but it is much more disgraceful when its rooflessness is the result of injustice. To expatiate on the prime necessity of secrecy and security in such a building as a post office, would be to insult the understanding of our readers; and we feel that some apology is due for hinting that, of all the works of masonry, that is the very edifice which ought most carefully to be tiled in. It is, therefore, with all our power that we would trumpet—if with a penny trumpet, though, in fact, ours is a threepenny trumpet—the lack of a roof to the Glasgow Post Office as a real Scottish grievance; and a very great one, particularly as compared to the others alleged by Scottish agitators. We may add that we sympathize the more cordially with the parties aggrieved, inasmuch as we of course regard the condition of the Post Office at Glasgow as fraught with prejudice and peril to the general cause of letters.

An English Ambassador is needed for Canton. We beg to propose theEarl or Aberdeen. Such a selection would be a great compliment to the Chinese,—the noble Earl being very like a tea-chest; namely, varnish without, and lead within.

ASATURDAY last a General Annual Special Quarterly Meeting of the London and South-Northern Railway Company was held at the Company's Offices. The meeting had been convened to hear a report on the propriety of amalgamating the undertaking with that of the Great East And By Eastern Railway, for which junction, negotiations have been for some time in progress. TheHon. Rolling Stock, M.P., Chairman of the former Company, presided. The room was crowded with shareholders, and eleven fights took place before business was commenced.

SATURDAY last a General Annual Special Quarterly Meeting of the London and South-Northern Railway Company was held at the Company's Offices. The meeting had been convened to hear a report on the propriety of amalgamating the undertaking with that of the Great East And By Eastern Railway, for which junction, negotiations have been for some time in progress. TheHon. Rolling Stock, M.P., Chairman of the former Company, presided. The room was crowded with shareholders, and eleven fights took place before business was commenced.

TheChairmanbriefly explained the object of the meeting, and reminded those before him that they were men of business come to discuss a question of business, and he expressed a hope that nothing but business would be talked, as the riotous displays which had now become common on such occasions were not only degrading in themselves, but tended to shake the public confidence in a body which could so conduct itself. (Applause, and an old hat flung at the Chairman.)

TheSecretarythen rose to read the report, but not one word was audible, shouts of "We know!" "Shut up!" "All humbug!" "Gammon and spinach!" drowning his voice. He persevered in dumb show, however, until a volley of baked taturs, nearly all hot, supplied by a vendor who had been smuggled into the room by a shareholder, made him not only desist, but come round with an offer to fight the parties who were thus emphatically protesting.

Mr. Bufferthen moved that the report be adopted. (Hideous yells.) Well, if it were objected to, let the reasons be advanced, and don't let fellows stand there, he added, with some irritation, howling like fools. (Renewed yelling.)

Mr. De Gradientseconded the motion, and would also be happy to be the previous speaker's second, if necessary.

Mr. Shuntsaid that the Chairman was a Nass, the directors were umbugs, and he had no term of decision—he meant derision—strong enough for the secretary, engineer, and superintendent of the traffic. The whole lot were revolutionary aristocratic donothings and sneaks. (Cries of "That's about it!" "Put that in your minutes!")

TheChairmansaid that in his private capacity he despised the taunts of the last speaker too much to condescend to notice them. But as Chairman of that meeting, and representing its dignity, he felt it his duty to say that of all the offensive rapscallions whose ridiculous gabble was ever permitted to contaminate the ears of gentlemen,Mr. Shuntwas at once the most audacious and the most contemptible. He had no desire to be severe, but this statement was the mildest version in which he could clothe the truth. He should now put the motion. (Cries of "Yes, you'd better!" "Down, down!" and more volleys of baked taturs.)

Mr. Fitzpistonrose to protest. Not a word had been heard of the report, and yet they were to be asked to adopt it. (Loud applause.)

TheChairman: And whose fault's that? If the meeting had not made such an unbusinesslike row, they would have heard it all.

AShareholder: It was a dodge of the Secretary's, who read low in order not to be heard.

TheSecretary(in a dreadful rage): If I read low I hit high. Will the honourable shareholder come round here and try?

TheShareholder: No, you are our menial servant, and it's your duty to wait on your masters. (Vollies of applause and taturs.)

The Secretary was here restrained, with some difficulty, by the Chairman, from taking off his coat and chastising the meeting. During the discussion, quarrelling was going on in all parts of the room. At length, the Secretary being appeased into only caricaturing his enemies, upon his blotting paper, instead of beating them, the Chairman again rose, and put the motion.

Mr. Shuntleaped upon the table, and, taking a sight at the Chair, moved as an amendment, that the report be pitched out of window, and the Directors after it. (Applause.)

ADirector(terrified): Police!

At this word the fury of the meeting became terrific.Cries of "That's the way shareholders are bullied!" "No crushers here!"and other indignant expressions broke forth; and for three-quarters of an hour, though various speakers tried to be heard, nothing resulted but gesticulation. At last the meeting, being hoarse, permitted a few words from

TheChairman, who explained that this question had been already discussed forty-two times, and each time with similar excitement. In the meantime another company was pushing on the same scheme, and would, by reason of the delay, take the wind out of their sails. (Cries of "All your fault!" "Swindling the shareholders!" "Directors ought to be kicked!" &c.) He would once more move, that the report be adopted, as nobody would state any objections. (Vociferous cries and yells—"No, no!" "Down with them!" "Twenty-five per cent. or nothing!" "No democrats!" "No exclusives!" "BravoRouse!"and so on.)

TheChairmanthen called for a show of hands, when everybody clenched his fist and shook it furiously at him. The Chairman, with a smile of triumph, declared the motion unanimously carried, and then, with the Secretary and the books, made a bolt through a side-door, before the meeting could rush in upon them, and prevent the success of thisruse. The meeting broke the windows, chairs, and lamps, and were then dispersed by the police.

Yet, with such centres of organisation, fault is found with the working of the Railway system. There's something wrong.

Punch

By way of counteracting the attraction of the Prize Cattle Show, which we think fosters a rather questionable taste for looking upon "fatty deposits," we propose to institute a Prize Joke Show, and we hope that the produce of the pen of wit will be more satisfactory than the contents of all the pens in the Bazaar of Baker Street. We candidly invite competition; and though anything in the shape of "animal matter" will be rejected from a contest in which all the matter should be asspirituelas possible, we can only say thatPunchwill be happy to see any of the farfamed Suffolk Punches if, in this "keen encounter of our wits," they have the courage to show themselves.

As a specimen of the style of Joke that will be admissible into the contemplated Prize Show, we have the pleasure to "flick off" the following:—

If I want a statue of myself, why should I be foolish to present a sculptor with the marble for the work?Answer.Because if I did, he would be sure to chisel me out of it.

"Mr. Punch,—I have been, I may say from my birth—leastwise since I could stand upon a stool—a barber. I've brought up a large family (and am married again) upon shaving. To be clean shaved was the prerogative of a Briton. And now there is a movement for German beards and Cossack moustachios, which, if permitted, farewell to the British Constitution. When we look like Roossian slaves and Austrian panders, we shall feel and act like 'em. Anyways, if beards come in, barbers must go out, in which case I ask for 'demnification.

"Yours, &c."

"Sibthorp Suds."

"TheColonel—(my parent was a Lincoln voter and barber)—is my godfather; which happened when theColonelused to go, I'm told, with as clean a face as any in the county."

On his departure from Golden Square, the subjoined notice, written in theDoctor'sown hand, was affixed outside his door—"Gone to Rome; will be back for mass in Westminster Abbey."

TheEarl of Shaftesburyhas volunteered an epistle eulogistic of Manchester. "Thoroughfares are opened"—says the noble lord—"courts and alleys cleansed—drains and sewers constructed," &c. &c. Nothing, according to the noble lord, will soon be wanting to Manchester to make it emphatically the Bright City; nothing but—asPunchopines—a little public spirit. "The Turk may go hang so that he buys our goods." "Liberty in its highest sense, is the liberty to buy and sell." "The worst worldly evil is a bad shilling." A few of these maxims do certainly still defile the moral atmosphere of Manchester, cleansed as the air inhaled may be from the reek of cesspools.Mr. Bright'shat, though covering a large, cool head, is nevertheless not big enough to extinguish the turban of Turkey. "Great spirits"—saysJean Paul—"are buried under golden mountains." In like manner, sympathy with a noble cause may be stifled in cotton-bags.

Back to Index Next