Punchinello, Volume 2, No. 27, October 1, 1870

Chapter IX: Canto VII

Text size

Tom, Tom the Pipers' son,
Stole a Pig, and away he run;
The Pig was eat, and TOM was beat.
And TOM went roaring down the street.

The above verse immortalizes an event that caused great excitement in the period in which it occurred, although at the present date it would not be considered of much account, or cause the smallest ripple on the glassy calm of our most, sleepy village.

We have progressed beyond being stirred by any little peccadillo such as the theft of a pig or a sheep, or even a watch or a purse, unless it contains a large amount, and was taken under the most aggravating circumstances from ourselves.

A robbery of a bank of a million, when it happens to affect hundreds of people, or a midnight murder executed with the malignancy of a fiend, will sometimes stir up the public for a few days, but even that soon passes out of mind, and society settles back into its imperturbable apathy, retreating with each wave of excitement still further, and becoming by degrees proof against being stirred by anything that does not affect ourselves personally.

Not so, however, in those days of Arcadian simplicity; for the astounding temerity of the Piper's son, in laying felonious hands on the property of the village butcher, or baker, caused an excitement second only to a hanging, or a first-class sensational horror, of later days.

Poor TOM was a deal to be pitied as well as blamed; for although he was the one who committed the crime, he was not the only one who reaped a benefit therefrom. But the traditional historian tells us, he was the only one who was punished therefor; so, while we blame him, let us shed a tear of sympathy because he alone got the beating, the others the eating. The scene is graphically described thusly--

"Tom, Tom the Piper's son,
Stole a pig, and away he run."

Here we see Tom, the good-for-nothing, standing idly around, listening to the witching strains of his father's bagpipe, played by the industrious musician before the doors of the well-to-do villagers, with the laudable view of obtaining the wherewith to purchase the meat that both might eat; and while the instrument that has well served its day and generation is groaning and wheezing under the pressure brought to bear upon it, TOM'S eyes, roving around from window to door, happen to light on a beautiful sucking-pig, that reposes in all the innocent beauty of baby pighood before the open door of a zealous stickler for human rights.

Alas! TOM is not acquainted with the gentlemanly owner of the fascinating pig, and he doesn't know how strong his principles are, nor how far he will go to maintain them.

He gazes enraptured upon the dainty porker, and as he looks, the desire to own just such a one grows upon him, and soon it becomes a determination to own that identical one, for never another could equal that. He looks stealthily around and finds the eyes of all are fixed upon the musician and his bagpipe. No one notices him, and hailing it as a happy omen, he pounces upon the coveted quadruped, grasps it tightly in his hands, and skedaddles.

The music is ended and the crowd disperses. The absence of piggy is unnoticed till the red-headed urchin whose playmate it is looks around for the loved companion, of his childish sports, and finds it not. Great research, amid loud outcries, is made, resulting only in the conviction that the pet of the family is gone, leaving no trace behind.

TOM, with his prize, exultingly hurries homeward, his heart swelling with joy at his luck. Like a dutiful son, he rushes to the arms of his maternal parent and deposits in her capacious lap the dainty prize. Visions of a luscious supper float through the mind of the female piperess, as she bestows her motherly benediction upon her thoughtful son, and proceeds to put into execution the well-conned lesson of cooking a sucking pig.

Having accomplished the "First get your pig" part, the rest comes easy; and at night, when the old Piper returns, his olfactories are sainted with an odor that startles him from his generally despondent mood, and awakens his curiosity as to the cause of such an unusual flavor from his usually flavorless abode. He enters and finds a smiling wife and son, with a smoking pig awaiting his coming. "What next occurred the Poet tells us in the laconic words

"The pig was eat."

There was no necessity for describing the way of eating; the fact was enough. But alas! there is always a dark side to everything, and this happy family were no exception, The bones were left. They couldn't eat them, and they didn't own a dog; so they picked them clean and threw them away. But, "Murder will out," and the tiny bones told their own tale. The village detective soon coupled the feet of the missing pig with the unusual occurrence of a heap of bones before the door of the musician's abode, and by a process of reasoning unknown to the detectives of the present day, decided that those bones were a pig's bones--a stolen pig's bones, from the fact that the Piper did not earn enough to indulge in such luxuries as sucking-pigs. Now who stole the sucking-pig?

Clearly not Madame Piper, for she was too fat and heavy to have any light-fingered proclivities.

Clearly not the Piper himself, for he was playing his bagpipe and could prove an alibi.

There was no one left but TOM. Circumstances pointed him out: he loved good eating and hated work, and had been noticed gazing upon the charms of the missing family pet. It was settled, then. TOM was the thief, and the offender must be punished. But how? Law was too uncertain and expensive, TOM was too poor to pay for the pig, so it was resolved to take the worth of it out of him by beating. The poet tells us

"TOM was beat."

Undoubtedly TOM was glad when they got through, and although he

"Went roaring down the street,"

it was a matter of rejoicing with him that he had saved his bacon. It was impossible to get that out through his hide, and they had no stomach pumps in those days.

* * * * *

Scene.--A. City Restaurant.

_Waiter, (to customer, who is winding up his repast_.) "Anything more, sir?"

_Customer_. "H'm--well--yes; bring me an omelette souffle."

_Waiter_. "Omelet Shoo-fly, sir? Yessir."

(_Exit, humming the popular tune_.)

* * * * *

Unintentionally Appropriate.

The Sun tells a very large story of its own circulation, and then innocently requests the "False Reporting" _Tribune_ to copy it!

* * * * *

BY GEORGE!

(_Continued_.)

LAKE GEORGE, Sept 5.

DEAR PUNCHINELLO:--In my last I promised to finish my trip on the Lake and give you some reliable rumors about the "Rogers' Slide."

I am prepared to do this to-day, in a happy and congratulatory frame of mind.

I have had breakfast this morning.

When I say this I mean that I have had this morning's breakfast this morning.

Any one who has achieved so remarkable a success, at this place, can safely plume himself on his patience and physical endurance.

For instance, this morning, for the first time, I ordered broiled Spring Chicken.

The waiter gave me a disconsolate look and proceeded to gird up his loins with a base ball belt.

In a few moments he dashed past the window in hot pursuit of a fowl of venerable appearance, but of a style of going that would have put to shame any ostrich that Dr. LIVINGSTONE ever saw.

I asked the head waiter if he called that a _Spring Chicken_?

He said he guessed that chicken could out-Spring any chicken in the place.

This clears up another great hotel mystery.

The man outflanked this gentle birdling on the eighth time round, in 6.23, which is considered very good indeed, and beats the time of the late Harvard and Yale "Foul" considerably.

I say "outflanked," because it is not the intention of these sunny Amendments to put an end to these feathery Dexters immediately, but to drive them into the ten-pin alley, where they are leisurely bowled to an untimely end. As, however, pony balls are generally used, and there are always half a dozen darkies standing around ready to bet that the chicken won't be killed in forty balls, or sixty, as the case may be, this part of the process is rather tedious to the guest

Sometimes, when the chicken is not very active, there are not more than nine or ten-pin feathers left.

Well, the next place the boat stopped at is called "Sabbath Day Point," in consequence of ABERCROMBIE having landed there on a Wednesday morning.

Its name will therefore be considered a joke by such as see the Point.

A gentleman on board informed me that the water was so clear at this place that one could "see objects when thirty feet from the bottom."

I have thought and thought over this remark, but am unable to see what one's distance from the bottom has to do with his "seeing objects."

I give it up.

On the opposite side of the Lake is a hill called "Sugar Loaf Mountain"--because it is a sweet place for loafers, I suppose.

Finally we passed "Rogers' Slide," which is a rocky precipice three hundred feet high, sloping nearly perpendicularly into the water. A decidedly unpleasant-looking place for cellar-door practice.

There are a great many romantic traditions about this same ROGERS, who is regarded by the simple natives as having been an altogether high-minded and gorgeous character--the fact being that he was one of those unmitigated old scamps who owe to the accident of having lived in Revolutionary times, the distinction of being held up to the emulation of primary schools as a "Patriot Hero." Literally he was simply an "unmixed evil," fighting only to steal something, and devoting what time and talent he could spare from his legitimate profession--which was _seven-up_--to generally bedevilling and encroaching upon the neighboring Indians.

As an enchroachist he was immense.

The noble red-skins alluded to finally concluded that enough was enough, and appointed a Special Commission to put a permanent end to the delicate attentions of the "Marked Back."

This _sobriquet_ they conferred upon him partly on account of the fact that he usually received his wounds while leaving their immediate vicinity, and partly because of a peculiar characteristic of the kind of cards he used.

The Commissioners caught ROGERS out hunting, and chased him until he came to this precipice, down which he slid into the Lake below, and, unfortunately, escaped unharmed.

The Indians, who were pursuing him by the imprints of his snow-shoes, soon arrived at the brink. Seeing what had occurred, they concluded to "let him slide."

Hence the name.

Evidently they thought, from the trail, that he must have gone over. Though he was by no means a missionary, the Tracks he had left produced a profound impression on their untutored minds.

They at once concluded that he was drowned, or had got "in with" some bad spirits.

It is obvious, however, to the most casual observer of the place, that the reverse must have been the case. The bad spirits were in him.

The mark worn by Mr. R's "cheviots" in his descent can still be distinctly seen.

About half way up is a shining object which is generally believed to be a suspender button.

This, however, is merely conjectural.

The clerk of the boat, of whom I have spoken before, tells me that until within a few years back, the hole in the water where ROGERS struck could be seen.

"But it is all gone now," he said, shaking his head sadly. "Nothing can escape the Vandal horde of tourists and relic hunters. Piece by piece they have carried the hole away, and there is no trace of it left now."

And he "wept at my tranquillity."

At the north end of the Lake we took stages for Fort Ticonderoga. These vehicles were run by a man who was pointed out as a "character," which means a sort of licensed nuisance.

The monomania of this individual was speech making, and much reflection inclines me to the belief that he is some unappreciated politician who has invented a way of "taking it out" on the unhappy public as follows:

He waits until his five immense stages arrive at some remote and solitary part of the road, then draws them up in a semi-circle, mounts a stump, and--on pretence of exhibiting the beauties of nature--proceeds to harangue the helpless fares to the top of his very high bent, or until one of the slumbering "outsides" creates a welcome diversion by falling off and breaking his neck.

We came to what was really a curiosity--two kinds of trees growing from one trunk, which this concentration of bores, this _mitrailleuse_, in fact, improved accordingly.

"Here, Ladies and Gentlemen, you per-ceive one of the _re_-markable and _pe_-culiar works of a benign _Per_-rovidence. On the right you see the sturdy and iron-hearted oak, while on the left you behold the modest and _be_-utiful ellum. What Having has joined together let no man put asunder--gerlang with yer hosses!"

It must have been a Sunday-school Superintendent who invented excursions to Fort Ty.

It is not a place to Tye to.

One old gentleman pointed to an underground hole and advised me to go and look at the magazine.

I went; but it is hardly necessary to say that I didn't find any, and, on the whole, I was glad of it If people don't know any more than to leave their _Galaxys_ and _Harper's_ lying around loose when travelling, why, they deserve to have them stolen, that's all.

I was sorry for the old gentleman, but if there is anything that disgusts me, it is to meet people that ain't posted about things.

As the steamer neared the Hotel, on our return, the departing sun was flinging back his last good-night smile on the lovely scene below, and the musical chime of the little church at Caldwell came stealing sweetly over the bosom of the placid Lake. As its fairy-like sounds reached our ears, a melancholy-looking man with long hair, who sat near, started, smiled, and turning to me, said:

"Did I ever tell you that story about SLUKER?"

As I had never seen the party before, I replied that if he had I had forgotten it.

"SLUKER," he repeated, gazing absently at the distant spire; "SLUKER," he reiterated, rubbing his nose abstractedly with the handle of his umbrella; "SLUKER," he continued--

--in my next, my dear PUNCHINELLO, in my next.

SAGINAW DODD.

[_To be continued_.]

* * * * *

Sauce

There can be no doubt that Grévy is in the right place, as a member of the Provisional government of France.

* * * * *

EDUCATION FOR DETECTIVES.

Although our Metropolitan Detectives have hitherto failed to solve the mystery in which certain atrocious murders remain shrouded, yet it would be simply captious to impeach them, on that account, for lack of sagacity, zeal, courage, or any of the numerous other qualities that go to the making up of an efficient "Hawkshaw."

That they are not deficient in zeal, at least, is manifest from a circumstance which took place a short time since. Counterfeiting had been carried on to a great extent in the city. The rashness of counterfeiters is proverbial, and they usually carry on their operations immediately under the nasal protuberance of the law. Nevertheless, in the case under notice, some vigilant detective, with a nose as sharp as that of a Spitz-dog, obtained a clue to the arrangements of the counterfeiters. Having informed some of his associates, a concerted descent was made by the party upon a house in one of the lower streets of the city. A portion of the house is, and has been for years past, occupied by several artists connected with the illustrated press. Few gentlemen are better known in large circles than these artists, none more highly appreciated by hosts of friends. But duty is duty--often stern, but never to be shirked; and so the faithful detectives inserted their Spitz-dog noses between the joints of the artists' doors, and, having smelt a very large rat, suddenly burst in upon these graphic malefactors, and caught them in the act, with all the tools and paraphernalia of their nefarious occupation scattered about their vile den.

Most of them were engaged in executing drawings upon blocks of wood, although it is probable that some of them were smoking pipes--tobacco being vastly conducive to that concentration of thought by which alone great mental efforts can be followed by equivalent results. Short work was made by the sagacious detectives, when they saw the graphic malefactors engaged in their diabolical toil. Some of the officers seized the implements of the gang, while others collared the delinquents, and marched them through the streets to the nearest police station, where they were thrust into a dungeon and locked up for the night.

Next morning, on being taken before a magistrate, the prisoners were discharged, on the grounds that the affair was a mistake--or a joke--we are not exactly informed which; but the parties chiefly interested do not look upon it as a joke.

Now it is a very clear case that the mistake in question--or joke--may be traced to a deficiency of education on the part of these vigilant and zealous detectives. Had they been properly cultivated in the various branches of art, the slight blunder to which we refer could not have occurred. The Spitz-dog noses, instead of smelling Rat, would have smelt its anagram, Art. Its influence would at once have been acknowledged by them, and they would have backed out from the August Presence with obsequious genuflexions. It becomes a question of moment, then, whether a course of lectures upon art should not henceforth be considered an indispensable branch of the education of our excellent detectives. We would not limit the proposed extension of their education, however, to the study of art, alone. Botany should be insisted on as a necessary accession to the stock of the detectives' learning; and especially would we have them instructed in a full knowledge of the leguminous vegetables--such as beans.

* * * * *

Temporary Obscuration of the "Hub."

Boston already has the biggest church- organ in all Creation. She also has the most public Public Garden of modern times. Last year she had the loudest Musical Jubilee ever organized, and it is further to be noted that she is the proud possessor of the most uncommon of Commons. Early in October, however, all these cherished immensities of Boston must fall into insignificance and "feel small." On the second day of that month, Colonel FISK is to make his triumphant entry into Boston, at the head of the gallant Ninth. Organ, Jubilee, Public Garden, Big Drum, Common--all, all of these will then have to subside and fade away into thin air before the stately presence of the Prince of Erie and his valiant command.

* * * * *

Boy and Man.

"Miss ANNIE P. LADD, of Augusta, Me., has been appointed by the governor and confirmed by the council as a justice of the peace."

To be a man and magistrate
'Twas natural that ANNIE sighed,
Since she one phase of man's estate
Already as a LADD had tried.

* * * * *

A Nut for the Ladies' Club.

Referring to the recent ladies' boat race at Harlem, a reporter says that "the girls all rowed badly." This is a discouraging comment on the frantic efforts now making by women to assume man's attributes, (not to mention his other "butes" and the what-d'ye-call-'ems generally associated with them,) and it is a very significant fact that the comment can be tersely clinched by the words So rows Sis.

* * * * *

NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Among the numerous portraits of the late CHARLES DICKENS now before the public, none are likely to be more popular than one in chromograph lately issued by PRANG & Co., of Boston and New York. It represents the great and genial writer as some few years younger than he was when he last visited this country. The expression of the face is one of thought--rather as he might have appeared when meditating over some new turn to be given to the thread of a narrative, than as he used to look when reading to an audience. This picture is printed in two or three simple tints, of which the flesh tint is the most predominant. It is set in an oval passe-partout, and requires only a glass over it to fit it for placing on a wall.

A HINT TO A CERTAIN CLASS OF "HUMANITARIANS"]

+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| |
| "The Printing House of the United States." |
| |
| GEO. F. NESBITT & CO., |
| |
| General JOB PRINTERS, |
| BLANK BOOK Manufacturers, |
| STATIONERS. Wholesale and Retail. |
| LITHOGRAPHIC Engravers and Printers. |
| COPPER-PLATE Engravers and Printers, |
| ENVELOPE Manufacturers, |
| FINE CUT and COLOR Printers. |
| |
| 163, 165, 167, and 169 PEARL ST., |
| 73, 75, 77, and 79 FINE ST., New York. |
| |
| ADVANTAGES.--All at the same premises, and under |
| immediate supervision of the proprietors. |
| |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| |
| Tourists and Pleasure Travelers |
| |
| will be glad to learn that that the Erie Railway Company has |
| prepared |
| |
| COMBINATION EXCURSION or Round Trip Tickets, |
| |
| Valid during the the entire season, and embracing |
| Ithaca--headwaters of Cayuga Lake--Niagara Falls, Lake |
| Ontario, the River St. Lawrence, Montreal, Quebec, Lake |
| Champlain, Lake George, Saratoga, the White Mountains, and |
| all principal points of interest in Northern New York, the |
| Canadas, and New England. Also similar Tickets at reduced |
| rates, through Lake Superior, enabling travelers to visit |
| the celebrated Iron Mountains and Copper Mines of that |
| region. By applying at the Offices of the Erie Railway Co., |
| Nos. 241, 529, and 957 Broadway; 205 Chambers St.; 33 |
| Greenwich St.; cor. 125th St. and Third Avenue, Harlem; 338 |
| Fulton St., Brooklyn; Depots foot of Chambers Street, and |
| foot of 23rd St., New York; No. 3 Exchange Place, and Long |
| Dock Depot, Jersey City, and the Agents at the principal |
| hotels, travelers can obtain just the Ticket they desire, as |
| well as all the necessary information. |
| |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| |
| PRANG'S LATEST PUBLICATIONS: "Wild Flowers," "Water-Lilies," |
| "Chas. Dickens." |
| |
| PRANG'S CHROMOS sold in all Art Stores throughout the world. |
| |
| PRANG'S ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE sent free on receipt of stamp. |
| |
| L. PRANG & CO., Boston. |
| |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| |
| PUNCHINELLO. |
| |
| With a large and varied experience in the management and |
| publication of a paper of the class herewith submitted, and |
| with the still more positive advantage of an Ample Capital |
| to justify the undertaking, the |
| |
| PUNCHINELLO PUBLISHING CO. |
| |
| OF THE CITY OF NEW YORK, |
| |
| Presents to the public for approval, the new |
| |
| ILLUSTRATED HUMOROUS AND SATIRICAL |
| |
| WEEKLY PAPER, |
| |
| PUNCHINELLO, |
| |
| The first number of which was issued under date of April 2. |
| |
| ORIGINAL ARTICLES, |
| |
| Suitable for the paper, and Original Designs, or suggestive |
| ideas or sketches for illustrations, upon the topics of the |
| day, are always acceptable and will be paid for liberally. |
| Rejected communications cannot be returned, unless postage |
| stamps are included. |
| |
| TERMS: |
| |
| One copy, per year, in advance ...................... $4.00 |
| |
| Single copies ........................................ .10 |
| |
| A specimen copy will be mailed free upon the receipt of ten |
| cents. |
| |
| One copy, with the Riverside Magazine, or any other magazine |
| or paper, price, $2.50, for................... $5.50 |
| |
| One copy, with any magazine of paper, price $4, for $7.00 |
| |
| |
| All communications, remittances, etc., to be addressed to |
| |
| PUNCHINELLO PUBLISHING CO., |
| |
| No. 83 Nassau Street, |
| |
| P. O. Box, 2783, NEW YORK. |
| |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| |
| THE MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD. |
| |
| The New Burlesque Serial, |
| |
| Written expressly for PUNCHINELLO, |
| |
| BY |
| |
| OEPHEUS C. KERR, |
| |
| Commenced in No. 11, will be continued weekly throughout the |
| year. |
| |
| A sketch of the eminent author, written by his bosom friend, |
| with superb illustrations of |
| |
| 1ST. THE AUTHOR'S PALATIAL RESIDENCE AT BEGAD'S HILL, |
| TICKNOR'S FIELDS, NEW JERSEY |
| |
| 2D. THE AUTHOR AT THE DOOR OF SAID PALATIAL RESIDENCE, taken |
| as he appears "Every Saturday," will also be found in the |
| same number. |
| |
| Single Copies, for Sale by all newsmen, (or mailed from this |
| office, free,) Ten Cents. Subscription for One Year, one |
| copy, with $2 Chromo Premium, $4. |
| |
| Those desirous of receiving the paper containing this new |
| serial, which promises to be the best ever written by |
| ORPHEUS C. KERR, should subscribe now, to insure its regular |
| receipt weekly. |
| |
| We will send the first Ten Numbers of PUNCHINELLO to any one |
| who wishes to see them, in view of subscribing, on the |
| receipt of SIXTY CENTS. |
| |
| Address, |
| |
| PUNCHINELLO PUBLISHING COMPANY, |
| |
| P. O. Box 2783. 83 Nassau St., New York |
| |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+

GEO. W. WHEAT & CO, PRINTERS, No. 8 SPRUCE STREET.

Comments

Punchinello, Volume 2, No. 27, October 1, 1870Chapter IX: Canto VII

0%22 min left in chapter