Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour Part 3

'ARRY EXAMINED.--_Q._ "What is meant by 'Higher Education'"?

_'Arry._ "Getting a tutor at so much a week. That's the way I should 'ire education--if I wanted it."

WHY HE IS SUCH A DULL BOY.

"'Arry," said an eminent comic singer to his friend, confidentially at the Oxford, "I'm exclusively engaged at the music 'alls; mayn't perform in a theatre."

"Then," replied 'Arry, knowingly, "it's all work and no play with you."

The conclusion was so evident that, had it not been for a good deal of soothing syrup at 'Arry's expense, there might have been a serious breach of the peace.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Toff._ "I say, my boy, would you like to drive me to Piccadilly?"

_Boy._ "I shouldn't mind, old sport, only I don't fink the 'arness would fit yer!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: IDDEN AND POOR LETTER H

_Tout Contractor (who has been paid a s.h.i.+lling per man, and sees his way to a little extra profit)._ "Now look 'ere, you two H's! The public don't want yer--nor _I_ don't, nor n.o.body don't; so jist drop them boards, and then 'ook it!"]

OBSERVATIONS BY A c.o.c.kNEY NATURALIST

A nightingale has been heard singing in Kensington Gardens (_vide Times_, April 19). A salmon has been seen swimming close to London Bridge. A trout has been observed (reposing on a marble slab) near to Charing Cross. Sticklebacks have been captured in the waters of the Serpentine. Plovers eggs have been discovered in the middle of Covent Garden: I myself have found there as many as two dozen in a single walk.

There is a rookery in St. Giles's, well known to the police. I have seen a pigeon shot not far from Shepherd's Bush, and I have heard one has been plucked by a member of the hawk tribe at another West-End haunt.

Blackbeetles are common in the back kitchens of Belgravia, and bluebottles abound among the butchers of Whitechapel during the warm months. There is another kind of fly, which is said to be indigenous to the stables of the jobmasters, and which also may be seen by observant c.o.c.kney naturalists, but less seldom in Whitechapel than near the Regent's Park. Sparrow-clubs have not been established yet in London, but pea-shooters are common in many of its streets. I am told that early risers may hear a male canary singing in the neighbourhood of Islington at four o'clock, A.M., and may also hear a c.o.c.k crow any morning, except Sunday, between five and six o'clock. The thrush has been observed among sundry of the children, under medical inspection, in the nurseries and infant hospitals of town. Little ducks are plentiful in the _salons_ of Tyburnia, and in Bayswater and Brompton there are numbers of great geese. Welsh rabbits may be seen close to Covent Garden, and wild turkeys have been noticed even in the Strand, hanging by the beak. In the purlieus of St. Stephen's, where are the sacred haunts of the collective wisdom of the kingdom, I have heard the hootings of many an old owl. From information which I have received from members of the metropolitan police, I may a.s.sert that larks are common in the Haymarket, and that on the sh.o.r.es of the silver Thames at Wapping there is frequently observable a goodly flock of mudlarks. From similar information, I may add that there are careful observers in the streets who rarely pa.s.s a day without their setting their eyes upon a robbin'.

Who shall say that in the very midst of the metropolis there is not abundant evidence of a truly rural, and a tooral-looral life?

NIGHT-BIRDS THAT MAKE WEST-END NIGHT HIDEOUS.--The 'owls of 'Arry after his larks.

CHARADE FOR COSTERMONGERS.--My first is unfathomable, my second odoriferous, and my whole is a people of Africa.--_Abyss-inians._

CONSOLATION FOR c.o.c.kNEYS.--It is all very well to talk of the fine boulevards of Paris; but in the French metropolis, where the rent is so high, and the living so dear, there is not one street to be named with Cheapside.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _'Arry (encountering a shut gate for the first time)._ "Wonder which end the thing opens? Ah, 'ere y'are! 'Ere's the 'ooks an'

eyes!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE BEAN HARVEST

_c.o.c.kney Tourist._ "Tut-t-t! Good gracious! What ever can 'ave made the corn turn so black?"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE EASTER VACATION.

_Owner._ "Well, the poor old moke ain't been quite 'isself lately, so we thought a day in the country 'ud do im good!"]

MISTAKES ABOUT SCOTLAND

_(Contributed by a Converted c.o.c.kney)_

It is a mistake to believe that every Scotchman, when he goes to Edinburgh, immediately walks down Princes Street clad in the ancient costume of the Highlanders.

It is a mistake to believe that the _piece de resistance_ at every Scotch dinner-party is a haggis.

It is a mistake to believe that a Scotchman does not enjoy a joke every bit as much as an Englishman.

It is a mistake to believe that a Scotch Sabbath in the country is a whit more _triste_ than an English Sunday in the provinces.

It is a mistake to believe that a Scotchman sets a greater value upon his "bawbee" than an Englishman upon his s.h.i.+lling or an American upon his dollar.

It is a mistake to believe that inns in Scotland are dearer and less comfortable than hotels in England.

It is a mistake to believe that we have a city in England that can compare favourably (from an architectural point of view) with the town of Edinburgh.

It is a mistake to believe that it always rains in the Isle of Skye.

It is a mistake to believe that there are no more "Fair Maids" in the houses of Perth.

It is a mistake to believe that Hampstead Heath is as beautiful as Dunkeld.

It is a mistake to believe that the Caledonian Ca.n.a.l is at all like the Serpentine.

It is a mistake to believe that Aberdeen is less imposing in appearance than Chelsea or Islington.

It is a mistake to believe that the countrymen of Scott and Burns do not appreciate the works of Shakspeare, Milton, Byron, d.i.c.kens, Thackeray, and Tennyson.

And, lastly (this is added to the c.o.c.kney's list by the wisest sage of this or any other age), it is the greatest mistake of all to believe that _Mr. Punch_ does not like and respect (in spite of an occasional joke at their expense) the kindly, homely, sound-hearted people who live north of the Tweed.