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Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour Part 8

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[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SNOW CURE!!

_Fiendish Little Boy (to elderly gentleman, who has come a cropper for the fourth time in a hundred yards)._ "'Ere I say, guv'nor, you're fair wallerin' in it this mornin'! H'anyone 'ud think as you'd bin hordered it by your medical man!!!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: OPEN TO DOUBT

_Ostler (dubiously, to 'Arry, who is trying to mount on the wrong side)._ "Beg pard'n, sir, I suppose you're quite accustomed to 'osses, sir?"]

NOTES BY A c.o.c.kNEY NATURALIST



There are various kinds of larks to be observed by c.o.c.kney naturalists, which are more or less, and rather less than more, indigenous to London.

There is first of all the cage lark (_Alauda Miserrima_) which is chiefly found on gra.s.s-plats measuring about two inches square, and may be heard singing plaintively in many a back slum. Then there is the mud lark (_Alauda Greenwichiensis_), which is princ.i.p.ally seen towards nightfall on the sh.o.r.es of the river, when the whitebait is in season.

This little lark is a migratory bird, and flits from place to place in quest of anything worth picking up that may happen to be thrown to it.

Finally, there is the street lark (_Alauda Nocturna_), which is known to most policemen in the neighbourhood of the Haymarket, and the like nocturnal haunts.

As a gratifying proof of our progressing civilisation, there has been of recent years a very marked decrease in the number of white mice, and monkeys dressed as soldiers, exhibited by organ-grinders in the London streets. Trained dogs appear, however, decidedly more numerous, and performing canaries may be met with not infrequently in the squares of the West End. The naturalist should note, moreover, that the learned British pig (_Porcus Sapiens Britannicus_) which, within the memory of men who are still living, used commonly to infest the fairs near the metropolis, has recently well nigh completely disappeared and is believed by sundry naturalists to be utterly extinct.

The rum shrub (_Shrubbus Curiosus_) which, although deserving of close investigation has somehow escaped mention in the pages of Linnaeus, is found in great profusion in the purlieus of Whitechapel, as well as other parts of London where dram-drinkers do congregate. It may be generally discovered in proximity to the Pot-tree (_Arbor Pewteriferens_), which may be readily recognised by its metallic fruit.

The common cat of the metropolis (_Felis Catterwaulans_) is remarkable, especially for the exceeding frequency and shrillness of its cries when it goes upon the tiles, or proceeds to other spots of feline popular resort. Sleep becomes impossible within earshot of its yellings, and the injury they cause to property as well as human temper is immense. It has, indeed, been roughly estimated that thirty thousand water-jugs are annually sacrificed, within a circuit of not more than six miles from St. Paul's, by being hurled from bedroom windows with the aim to stop these squalling feline "Voices of the night."

A certain proof that oysters are amphibious may be noted in the fact that they always build their grottoes in the courts and the back streets of the metropolis where, in the month of August, with extravagant profusion, their sh.e.l.ls are yearly cast.

The scarlet-coated lobster (_Le Homard Militaire_, Cuvier) has been frequently discovered on the sh.o.r.es of the Serpentine, or basking by the margin of the water in St. James's Park. This crustacean, when treated well, will drink like a fish, excepting that, unlike a fish, he does not confine himself to water for his drink. His sh.e.l.l (jacket) is of a bright red colour, which is not produced, as in the lobster species generally, by the agency of the caloric in the act of being boiled. The scarlet-coated lobster leads, while in London, a very peaceful life, notwithstanding his presumed propensities for fighting.

If we may credit the statistics which, with no slight labour, have been recently collected, no fewer than five million and eleven blue-bottles are annually slaughtered in the butchers' shops of London, before depositing their ova in the primest joints of meat. The number of the smaller flies which, merely in the City, are every year destroyed for buzzing round the bald heads of irritable bank clerks, amounts, it has been calculated, to one million three hundred thousand and thirteen.

FROM TAPLOW.--_First 'Arry._ I'll tell you a good name for a riverside inn--_"The Av-a-launch"._

_Second 'Arry._ I'll tell you a better--"The 'Ave-a-lunch." Come along!

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Did yer order any ile round the corner?"

"What do you mean by ile? Do you mean oil?"

"Naw. Not ile, but ILE wot yer drinks!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: A QUESTION OF THE SENSES.

_First County Councillor._ "I'm told the _acoustics_ of this hall leave much to be desired, Mr. Brown!"

_Second C. C. (delicately sniffing)._ "Indeed, Sir Pompey? Can't say as I perceive anythink amiss, myself; and my nose is pretty sharp, too!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: QUICK WORK.

_Guttersnipe._ "Please muvver wants sixpence on this 'ere fryin' pan."

_p.a.w.nbroker._ "Hallo! it's _hot_!"

_Guttersnipe._ "Yus, muvver's just cooked the sossidges, an' wants the money for the beer!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: WE MUSTN'T ALWAYS JUDGE BY APPEARANCES.

"I say, Bill, you aren't got such a thing as the price of 'arf a pint about you, are yer? I'm so blooming dry!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Philanthropic Coster' (who has been crying "Perry-wink-wink-wink!" till he's hoa.r.s.e--and no buyers)._ "I wonder what the p'or unfort'nate creeters in these 'ere low neighb'r'oods do live on!!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: RUDE INQUIRY

_Street Arabs._ "Hoo curls yer 'air, gov'nour?"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: BILLINGSGATE UP-TO-DATE.

_'Enery._ "'Ullo, Chawley? Wot's up? 'As yer motor broke down?"

_Chawley (whose "moke" is a "bit below himself")._ "Yuss, smashed me 'sparking plug.'"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _First "Growler"._ "'Ulloah, William, where are yer takin' that little lot?"

_Second "Growler"._ "Hararat! Don't yer see I'm navigatin' the Hark?"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _'Arriet._ "I will say this for Bill, 'e _do_ look the gentleman!"]

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Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour Part 8 summary

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