Chapter VII: Introduction (6)

“Mr. John Harlow, and Alice his wife, being by the grand inquest presented for absenting themselves from church, are, according to the act, fined each of them fifty pounds of tobacco; and the said Mr. John Harlow ordered forthwith to pay one hundred pounds of tobacco to the sheriff, otherwise the said sheriff to levy by way of distress.”

“Jane Harde, the wife of Henry Harde, being presented for not ’tending church, is, according to act, fined fifty pounds of tobacco; and the sheriff is ordered to collect the same from her, and, in case of non-payment, to distress.”

“John Lewis, his wife this day refusing to take the oath of allegiance, being ordered her, is committed into the sheriff’s custody, to remain until she take the said oath, or until further ordered to the contrary.”

“John Lewis, his wife for absenting herself from church, is fined fifty pounds of tobacco, to be collected by the sheriff from her husband; and upon non-payment, the said sheriff to distress.”

“George Harwood, being prosecuted for his absenting himself from church, is fined fifty pounds of tobacco, to be levied by way of distress by the sheriff upon his non-payment thereof.”

“Peter White and his wife, being presented for common swearing, are fined fifty pounds of tobacco, both of them; to be collected by the sheriff from the said White, and, upon non-payment of the same, to distress.”

“Richard King, being presented as a common swearer, is fined fifty pounds of tobacco, to be levied by the sheriff, by way of distress, upon his non-payment.”

EXTRACTS FROM THE CONNECTICUT BLUE LAWS.

When these free states were colonies
Unto the mother nation,
And in Connecticut the good
Old Blue Laws were in fashion.

The following extracts from the laws ordained by the people of New Haven, previous to their incorporation with the Saybrook and Hartford colonies, afford an idea of the strange character of their prohibitions. As the substance only is given in the transcription, the language is necessarily modernized:—

No quaker or dissenter from the established worship of the dominion shall be allowed to give a vote for the election of magistrates, or any officer.

No food or lodging shall be afforded to a quaker, adamite, or other heretic.

If any person turns quaker, he shall be banished, and not suffered to return, but upon pain of death.

No priest shall abide in the dominion: he shall be banished, and suffer death on his return. Priests may be seized by any one without a warrant.

No man to cross a river but with an authorized ferryman.

No one shall run on the sabbath-day, or walk in his garden, or elsewhere, except reverently to and from meeting.

No one shall travel, cook victuals, make beds, sweep house, cut hair or shave, on the sabbath-day.

No woman shall kiss her child on the sabbath or fasting-day.

The sabbath shall begin at sunset on Saturday.

To pick an ear of corn growing in a neighbor’s garden shall be deemed theft.

A person accused of trespass in the night shall be judged guilty, unless he clear himself by oath.

When it appears that an accused has confederates, and he refuses to discover them, he may be racked.

No one shall buy or sell lands without permission of the selectmen.

A drunkard shall have a master appointed by the selectmen, who are to debar him the liberty of buying and selling.

Whoever publishes a lie to the prejudice of his neighbor, shall sit in the stocks or be whipped fifteen stripes.

No minister shall keep a school.

Men-stealers shall suffer death.

Whoever wears clothes trimmed with gold, silver, or bone lace, above two shillings by the yard, shall be presented by the grand jurors, and the selectmen shall tax the offender at £300 estate.

A debtor in prison, swearing he has no estate, shall be let out, and sold to make satisfaction.

Whoever sets a fire in the woods, and it burns a house, shall suffer death; and persons suspected of this crime shall be imprisoned without benefit of bail.

Whoever brings cards or dice into this dominion shall pay a fine of £5.

No one shall read common-prayer, keep Christmas or saint-days, make minced pies, dance, play cards, or play on any instrument of music, except the drum, trumpet, and Jews-harp.

No gospel minister shall join people in marriage; the magistrates only shall join in marriage, as they may do it with less scandal to Christ’s church.

When parents refuse their children convenient marriages, the magistrate shall determine the point.

The selectmen, on finding children ignorant, may take them away from their parents, and put them into better hands, at the expense of their parents.

A man that strikes his wife shall pay a fine of £10; a woman that strikes her husband shall be punished as the court directs.

A wife shall be deemed good evidence against her husband.

Married persons must live together, or be imprisoned.

No man shall court a maid in person, or by letter, without first obtaining consent of her parents: £5 penalty for the first offence; £10 for the second; and for the third, imprisonment during the pleasure of the court.

Every male shall have his hair cut round according to a cap.

Paronomasia.

Hard is the job to launch the desperate pun;
A _pun-job_ dangerous as the Indian one.—§Holmes.§

Life and language are alike sacred. Homicide and _verbicide_—that is,
violent treatment of a word with fatal results to its legitimate
meaning, which is its life—are alike forbidden. _Manslaughter_, which
is the meaning of the one, is the same as man’s laughter, which is the
end of the other.—§Ibid.§

The quaint Cardan thus defineth:—“Punning is an art of harmonious jingling upon words, which, passing in at the ears and falling upon the diaphragma, excites a titillary motion in those parts; and this, being conveyed by the animal spirits into the muscles of the face, raises the cockles of the heart.”

“He who would make a pun would pick a pocket,” is the stereotyped dogma fulminated by laugh-lynchers from time immemorial; or, as the _Autocrat_ hath it, “To trifle with the vocabulary which is the vehicle of social intercourse is to tamper with the currency of human intelligence. He who would violate the sanctities of his mother tongue would invade the recesses of the paternal till without remorse, and repeat the banquet of Saturn without an indigestion.” The “inanities of this working-day world” cannot perceive any wittiness or grace in punning; and yet, according to the comprehensive definition of wit by Dr. Barrow, the eminent divine, it occupies a very considerable portion of the realm of wit. He says, “Wit is a thing so versatile and multiform, appearing in so many shapes, so many postures, so many garbs, so variously apprehended by several eyes and judgments, that it seemeth no less hard to settle a clear and certain notion thereof, than to make a portrait of Proteus, or to define the figure of the fleeting air. Sometimes it lieth in _pat allusions to a known story_, or in _seasonable application of a trivial saying_, or in feigning an apposite tale; sometimes it _playeth in words and phrases_, taking advantage of the _ambiguity of their sense, or the affinity of their sound_; sometimes it is wrapped in a dress of humorous expression, sometimes it lurketh under _an odd similitude_; sometimes it is lodged in a sly question, in a smart answer, in a _quirkish_ reason, in a shrewd intimation, in cunningly, divertingly, or cleverly retorting an objection; sometimes it is couched in a bold scheme of speech, in a tart irony, in a lusty hyperbole, in a startling metaphor, in a _plausible reconciling of contradictions_, or in _acute nonsense_; sometimes a scenic representation of persons or things, a counterfeit speech, a mimic look or gesture, passeth for it. Sometimes an affected simplicity, sometimes a presumptuous bluntness, giveth it being. Sometimes it riseth only from _a lucky hitting upon what is strange_; sometimes from _a crafty wresting of obvious matter to the purpose_. Often it consisteth of one knows not what, and springeth up one can hardly tell how. Its ways are unaccountable and inexplicable, being answerable to the numberless rovings of fancy and windings of language.”

If this definition be true, there is truth as well as wit in the punster’s reply to the taunt of the rhetorician that “punning is the _lowest species_ of wit.” “Yes,” said he, “for it is the _foundation_ of all wit.” But, whatever may be said of the practice by those who affect to despise it, it has been much in vogue in all ages. Horne, in his _Introduction to the Critical Study of the Holy Scriptures_, tells us that it was a very favorite figure of rhetoric among the Hebrews, and is yet common among most of the Oriental nations. Professor Stuart, in his Hebrew grammar, gives numerous examples of it in the Old Testament, and Winer and Horne point out others in the New Testament, especially in the writings of St. Paul. These cannot, of course, be equivalently expressed in English.

Many of the Greek authors exhibit a fondness for this rhetorical figure, and some of the most excellent puns extant are to be found in the Greek Anthologies. As a specimen, the following is given from Wesseling’s Diodorus Siculus:—

Dioscurus, an Egyptian bishop, before he began the service, had the common custom of saying ειρηνη πασιν, (irene pasin,) _peace be to all_. It was notorious that the pious churchman had at home a favorite mistress, whose name was Irene, which incident produced the following smart epigram:—

Ειρηνη παντεσσιν επισκοπος ειπεν εχελθων
Πως δυναται πασιν, ἡν μονος ενδον εχει;

(The good bishop wishes peace—Irene—to all;
But how can he give that to all, which he keeps to himself at home?)

A PUN-GENT CHAPTER.

At one time there was a general strike among the workingmen of Paris, and Theodore Hook gave the following amusing account of the affair:—“The bakers, being ambitious to extend their _do_-mains, declared that a revolution was _needed_, and, though not exactly _bred_ up to arms, soon reduced their _crusty_ masters to terms. The tailors called a council of the _board_, to see what _measures_ should be taken, and, looking upon the bakers as the _flower_ of chivalry, decided to follow _suit_; the consequence of which was, that a _cereous_ insurrection was _lighted up_ among the candle-makers, which, however _wick_-ed it might appear in the eyes of some persons, developed traits of character not unworthy of ancient _Greece_.”

Why should no man starve on the deserts of Arabia?
Because of the _sand which_ is there.
How came the sandwiches there?
The tribe of _Ham_ was _bred_ there, and _mustered_.

A clergyman who had united in marriage a couple whose Christian names were Benjamin and Annie, on being asked by a mutual friend how they appeared during the ceremony, replied that they appeared both _annie_-mated and _bene_-fitted.

Mr. Manners, who had but lately been created Earl of Rutland, said to Sir Thomas More, just made Lord Chancellor,—

“You are so much elated with your preferment that you verify the old proverb,—

_Honores mutant_ §Mores§.”

“No, my lord,” said Sir Thomas: “the pun will do much better in English:—

_Honors change_ §Manners§.”

An old writer said that when _cannons_ were introduced as negotiators, the _canons_ of the church were useless; that the world was governed first by _mitrum_, and then by _nitrum_,—first by _St. Peter_, and then by _saltpetre_.

Column, the dramatist, on being asked whether he knew Theodore Hook, replied, “Oh, yes: _Hook_ and _Eye_ are old associates.”

Punch says, “the milk of human kindness is not to be found in the _pail_ of society.” If so, we think it is time for all hands to “_kick the bucket_.”

Judge Peters, formerly of the Philadelphia Bench, observed to a friend, during a trial that was going on, that one of the witnesses had a _vegetable_ head. “How so?” was the inquiry. “He has _carroty_ hair, _reddish_ cheeks, a _turnup_ nose, and a _sage_ look.”

Tom Hood, seeing over the shop-door of a beer-vendor,—

_Bear_ Sold Here,

said it was spelled right, because it was his own _Bruin_.

Charles Mathews, the comedian, was served by a green-grocer, named Berry, and generally settled his bill once a quarter. At one time the account was sent in before it was due, and Mathews, laboring under an idea that his credit was doubted, said, “Here’s a pretty _mull_, Berry. You have sent in your _bill_, Berry, before it is _due_, Berry. Your father, the _elder_ Berry, would not have been such a _goose_, Berry; but you need not look so _black_, Berry, for I don’t care a _straw_, Berry, and sha’n’t pay you till _Christmas_, Berry.”

Sheridan, being dunned by a tailor to pay at least the interest on his bill, answered that it was not his interest to pay the principal, nor his principle to pay the interest.

In the “Old India House” may still be seen a quarto volume of _Interest Tables_, on the fly-leaf of which is written, in Charles Lamb’s round, clerkly hand,—

“A book of much interest.”—_Edinburgh Review._

“A work in which the interest never flags.”—_Quarterly Review._

“We may say of this volume, that the interest increases from the
beginning to the end.”—_Monthly Review._

Turner, the painter, was at a dinner where several artists, amateurs, and literary men were convened. A poet, by way of being facetious, proposed as a toast, “_The Painters and Glaziers of England_.” The toast was drunk; and Turner, after returning thanks for it, proposed “_Success to the Paper-Stainers_,” and called on the poet to respond.

SHORT ROAD TO WEALTH.

I’ll tell you a plan for gaining wealth,
Better than banking, trade, or leases;
Take a bank-note and fold it across,
And then you will find your money §IN-CREASES§!

This wonderful plan, without danger or loss,
Keeps your cash in your hands, and with nothing to trouble it;
And every time that you fold it across,
’Tis plain as the light of the day that you §DOUBLE IT§!

“I cannot move,” the plaintive invalid cries,
“Nor sit, nor stand.”—If he says true, he _lies_.

Dr. Johnson having freely expressed his aversion to punning, Boswell hinted that his illustrious friend’s dislike to this species of small wit might arise from his inability to play upon words. “Sir”, roared Johnson, “if I were punish-ed for every pun I shed, there would not be left a puny shed of my punnish head.” Once, by accident, he made a singular pun. A person who affected to live after the Greek manner, and to anoint himself with oil, was one day mentioned to him. Johnson, in the course of conversation on the singularity of his practice, gave him the denomination of _this man of Grease_.

Sydney Smith—so Lord Houghton in his _Monographs_ tells us—has written depreciatingly of all playing upon words; but his rapid apprehension could not altogether exclude a kind of wit which, in its best forms, takes fast hold of the memory, besides the momentary amusement it excites. His objection to the superiority of a city feast: “I cannot wholly value a dinner by the test you do (_testudo_);”—his proposal to settle the question of the wood pavement around St. Paul’s: “Let the Canons once lay their heads together and the thing will be done;”—his pretty compliment to his friends, Mrs. Tighe and Mrs. Cuffe: “Ah! there you are: the cuff that every one would wear, the tie that no one would loose”—may be cited as perfect in their way.

Admiral Duncan’s address to the officers who came on board his ship for instructions, previous to the engagement with Admiral de Winter, was laconic and humorous: “Gentlemen, you see a severe Winter approaching; I have only to advise you to keep up a good fire.”

Theodore Hook plays thus on the same name:—

Here comes Mr. Winter, inspector of taxes;
I advise you to give him whatever he axes;
I advise you to give him without any flummery,
For though his name’s Winter his actions are _summary_.

Henry Erskine’s toast to the mine-owners of Lancashire:—

Sink your pits, blast your mines, dam your rivers, consume your
manufactures, disperse your commerce, and may your labors be in
_vein_.

TOM MOORE.

When Limerick, in idle whim,
Moore as her member lately courted,
’The boys,’ for form’s sake, asked of him
To state what party he supported.

When thus his answer promptly ran,
(Now give the wit his meed of glory:)
“I’m of no party as a man,
But as a poet _am-a-tory_.”

TOP AND BOTTOM.

The following playful colloquy in verse took place at a dinner-table, between Sir George Rose and James Smith, in allusion to Craven street, Strand, where the latter resided:—

J. S.—At the top of my street the attorneys abound,
And down at the bottom the barges are found:
Fly, honesty, fly to some safer retreat,
For there’s _craft_ in the river, and _craft_ in the street.

Sir G. R.—Why should honesty fly to some safer retreat,
From attorneys, and barges, od-rot ’em?
For the lawyers are _just_ at the top of the street,
And the barges are _just_ at the bottom.

OLD JOKE VERSIFIED.

Says Tom to Bill, pray tell me, sir,
Why is it that the devil,
In spite of all his naughty ways,
Can never be uncivil?

Says Bill to Tom, the answer’s plain
To any mind that’s bright:
Because the imp of darkness, sir,
Can ne’er be _imp o’ light_.

A PRINTER’S EPITAPH.

Here lies a _form_—place no _imposing stone_
To mark the _head_, where weary it is lain;
’Tis _matter dead_!—its mission being done,
To be _distributed_ to dust again.
The _body’s_ but the _type_, at best, of man,
Whose _impress_ is the spirit’s deathless _page_;
_Worn out_, the _type_ is thrown to _pi_ again,
The _impression_ lives through an eternal age.

STICKY.

I want to seal a letter, Dick,
Some wax pray give to me.—
I have not got a single _stick_,
Or _whacks_ I’d give to thee.

WOMEN.

When Eve brought _woe_ to all mankind,
Old Adam called her _wo-man_;
But when she _woo’d_ with love so kind,
He then pronounced her _woo-man_.

But now with folly and with pride,
Their husbands’ pockets trimming,
The ladies are so full of _whims_,
The people call them _whim-men_.

BEN, THE SAILOR.

His _death_, which happened in his _berth_,
At forty odd befell:
They went and _told_ the sexton, and
The sexton _tolled_ the bell.—§Hood’s§ _Faithless Sally Brown_.

WHISKERS VERSUS RAZOR.

With whiskers thick upon my face
I went my fair to see;
She told me she could never love
A _bear-faced_ chap like me.

I shaved then clean, and called again,
And thought my troubles o’er;
She laughed outright, and said I was
More _bare-faced_ than before!

COMPLIMENT OF SHERIDAN TO MISS PAYNE.

’Tis true I am ill; but I cannot complain,
For he never knew pleasure who never knew Payne.

FROM DR. HOLMES’ “MODEST REQUEST.”

Thus great Achilles, who had shown his zeal
In §HEALING WOUNDS§, died of a §WOUNDED HEEL§;
Unhappy chief, who, when in childhood doused,
Had saved his §BACON§ had his feet been §SOUSED§!
Accursed heel, that killed a hero stout!
Oh, had your mother known that you were out,
Death had not entered at the trifling part
That still defies the small chirurgeon’s art
With corn and §BUNIONS§,—not the glorious §John§
Who wrote the book we all have pondered on,—
But other §BUNIONS§, bound in fleecy hose,
To “§Pilgrim’s Progress§” unrelenting foes!

PLAINT OF THE OLD PAUPER.

Some boast of their §FORE§-fathers—I—
I have not §ONE§!
I am, I think, like Joshua,
The son of §NONE§!

Heedless in youth, we little note
How quick time passes,
For then flows ruby wine, not sand,
In §OUR§ glasses!

Rich friends (most pure in honor) all have fled
Sooner or later;
Pshaw! had they India’s spices, they’d not be
A nutmeg-§GRATER§!

I’ve neither chick nor child; as I have nothing,
Why, ’tis lucky rather;
Yet who that hears a squalling baby wishes
Not to be §FATHER§?

Some few years back my spirits and my youth
Were quite amazin’;
Brisk as a pony, or a lawyer’s clerk,
Just fresh from §Gray’s Inn§!

What am I now? weak, old, and poor, and by
The parish found;
Their §PENCE§ keeps me, while many an ass
Enjoys the parish §POUND§!

TO MY NOSE.

Knows he that never took a pinch,
Nosey! the pleasure thence which flows?
Knows he the titillating joy
Which my nose knows?

Oh, nose! I am as fond of thee
As any mountain of its snows!
I gaze on thee, and feel that pride
A Roman knows!

BOOK-LARCENY.

Sir Walter Scott said that some of his friends were bad _accountants_, but excellent _book-keepers_.

How hard, when those who do not wish
To lend—that’s lose—their books,
Are snared by anglers—folks that fish
With literary hooks;

Who call and take some favorite tome,
But never read it through;
They thus complete their sett at home,
By making one of you.

I, of my Spenser quite bereft,
Last winter sore was shaken;
Of Lamb I’ve but a quarter left,
Nor could I save my Bacon.

They picked my Locke, to me far more
Than Bramah’s patent worth;
And now my losses I deplore,
Without a Home on earth.

Even Glover’s works I cannot put
My frozen hands upon;
Though ever since I lost my Foote,
My Bunyan has been gone.

My life is wasting fast away;
I suffer from these shocks;
And though I’ve fixed a lock on Gray,
There’s gray upon my locks.

They still have made me slight returns,
And thus my grief divide;
For oh! they’ve cured me of my Burns,
And eased my Akenside.

But all I think I shall not say,
Nor let my anger burn;
For as they have not found me Gay,
They have not left me Sterne.

THE VEGETABLE GIRL.

Behind a market stall installed,
I mark it every day,
Stands at her stand the fairest girl
I’ve met with in the bay;
Her two lips are of cherry red,
Her hands a pretty pair,
With such a pretty turn-up nose,
And lovely reddish hair.

’Tis there she stands from morn till night
Her customers to please,
And to appease their appetite
She sells them beans and peas.
Attracted by the glances from
The apple of her eye,
And by her Chili apples, too,
Each passer-by will buy.

She stands upon her little feet,
Throughout the livelong day,
And sells her celery and things,—
A big feat, by the way.
She changes off her stock for change,
Attending to each call;
And when she has but one beet left,
She says, “Now that beats all.”

EPITAPH ON AN OLD HORSE.

Here lies a faithful steed,
A stanch, uncompromising “silver gray;”
Who ran the race of life with sprightly speed,
Yet never ran—away.

Wild oats he never sowed,
Yet masticated tame ones with much zest:
Cheerful he bore each light allotted load,
As cheerfully took rest.

Bright were his eyes, yet soft,
And in the main his tail was white and flowing;
And though he never sketched a single draught,
He showed great taste for drawing.

Lithe were his limbs, and clean,
Fitted alike for buggy or for dray,
And like Napoleon the Great, I ween,
He had a _martial neigh_.

Oft have I watched him grace
His favorite stall, well littered, warm, and fair,
With such contentment shining from his face,
And such a stable air!

With here and there a speck
Of roan diversifying his broad back,
And, martyr-like, a halter round his neck,
Which bound him to the rack.

Mors omnibus! at length
The hay-day of his life was damped by death;
So, summoning all his late remaining strength,
He drew his—final breath.

GRAND SCHEME OF EMIGRATION.

The Brewers should to _Malt-a_ go,
The Loggerheads to _Scilly_,
The Quakers to the _Friendly Isles_,
The Furriers all to _Chili_.

The little squalling, brawling brats,
That break our nightly rest,
Should be packed off to _Baby-lon_,
To _Lap-land_, or to _Brest_.

From _Spit-head_ Cooks go o’er to _Greece_;
And while the Miser waits
His passage to the _Guinea_ coast,
Spendthrifts are in the _Straits_.

Spinsters should to the _Needles_ go,
Wine-bibbers to _Burgundy_;
Gourmands should lunch at _Sandwich Isles_,
Wags in the _Bay of Fun-dy_.

Musicians hasten to the _Sound_,
The surpliced Priest to _Rome_;
While still the race of Hypocrites
At _Cant-on_ are at home.

Lovers should hasten to _Good Hope_;
To some _Cape Horn_ is pain;
Debtors should go to _Oh-i-o_,
And Sailors to the _Main-e_.

Hie, Bachelors, to the _United States_!
Maids, to the _Isle of Man_;
Let Gardeners go to _Botany Bay_,
And Shoeblacks to _Japan_.

Thus, emigrants and misplaced men
Will then no longer vex us;
And all that a’n’t provided for
Had better go to _Texas_.

THE PERILOUS PRACTICE OF PUNNING.

Theodore Hook thus cautions young people to resist provocation to the habit of punning:—

My little dears, who learn to read, pray early learn to shun That very silly thing indeed which people call a pun. Read Entick’s rules, and ’twill be found how simple an offence It is to make the self-same sound afford a double sense. For instance, _ale_ may make you _ail_, your _aunt_ an _ant_ may kill, You in a _vale_ may buy a _vail_, and _Bill_ may pay the _bill_, Or if to France your bark you steer, at Dover it may be, A _peer_ _appears_ upon the _pier_, who, blind, still goes to _sea_. Thus one might say when to a treat good friends accept our greeting, ’Tis _meet_ that men who _meet_ to eat, should eat their _meat_ when _meeting_. Brawn on the board’s no _bore_ indeed, although from _boar_ prepared; Nor can the _fowl_ on which we feed _foul_ feeding be declared. Thus _one_ ripe fruit may be a _pear_, and yet be _pared_ again, And still be _one_, which seemeth rare, until we do explain. It therefore should be all your aim to speak with ample care; For who, however fond of _game_, would choose to swallow _hair_? A fat man’s _gait_ may make us smile, who has no _gate_ to close; The farmer sitting on his _stile_ no _stylish_ person knows; Perfumers men of _scents_ must be; some Scilly men are bright; A _brown_ man oft _deep read_ we see—a _black_ a wicked _wight_. Most wealthy men good manners have, however vulgar they, And actors still the harder _slave_ the oftener they _play_; So poets can’t the _baize_ obtain unless their tailors choose, While grooms and coachmen not in vain each evening seek the _mews_. The _dyer_ who by dying _lives_, a _dire_ life maintains; The glazier, it is known, receives his _profits_ from his _panes_; By gardeners _thyme_ is _tied_, ’tis true, when Spring is in its prime, But _time_ or _tide_ won’t wait for you, if you are _tied_ for _time_. There now you see, my little dears, the way to make a pun; A trick which you, through coming years, should sedulously shun. The fault admits of no defense, for wheresoe’er ’tis found, You sacrifice the _sound_ for _sense_, the _sense_ is never _sound_. So let your words and actions too, one single meaning prove, And, just in all you say or do, you’ll gain esteem and love: In mirth and play no harm you’ll know, when duty’s task is done; But parents ne’er should let you go un_pun_ished for a _pun_.

The motto of the Pilotage Commission of the river Tyne:—

In portu salus.
In port you sail us.

SONNET

_On a youth who died from a surfeit of fruit._

Currants have checked the current of my blood,
And berries brought me to be buried here;
Pears have pared off my body’s hardihood,
And plums and plumbers spare not one so spare:
Fain would I feign my fall; so fair a fare
Lessens not fate, but ’tis a lesson good:
Gilt will not long hide guilt; such thin-washed ware
Wears quickly, and its rude touch soon is rued.
Grave on my grave some sentence grave and terse,
That lies not, as it lies upon my clay;
But, in a gentle strain of unstrained verse,
Prays all to pity a poor patty’s prey;
Rehearses I was fruit-full to my hearse,
Tells that my days are told, and soon I’m toll’d away!

Previous to the battle of Culloden, when Marshal Wade and Generals Cope and Hawley were prevented by the severity of the weather from advancing as far into Scotland as they intended, the following lines were circulated among their opposers:—

Cope could not cope, nor Wade wade through the snow,
Nor Hawley haul his cannon to the foe.

When Mrs. Norton was called on to subscribe to a fund for the relief of Thomas Hood’s widow, which had been headed by Sir Robert Peel, she sent a liberal donation with these lines:—

To cheer the widow’s heart in her distress,
To make provision for the fatherless,
Is but a Christian’s duty, and none should
Resist the heart-appeal of _widow-Hood_.

M. Mario’s visit to this country recalls to mind the sharpest witticism of Madame Grisi, at the time his wife, and one of the best bits of repartee on record. Louis Phillippe, passing through a room where Grisi stood, holding two of her young children by the hand, said gaily: “Ah! Madame, are those, then, some of your little _Grisettes_?” “No, Sire,” was the quick reply, perfect in every requirement of the pun, “No, Sire, these are my little _Marionettes_.”

A learned judge, of facetious memory, is reported to have said, in an argument in arrest of the judgment of death, “I think we had better let the subject drop.”

SWIFT’S LATIN PUNS.

Among the _nugæ_ of Dean Swift are his celebrated Latin puns, some of which are well known, having been frequently copied, and having never been excelled. The following selections will serve as specimens. They consist entirely of Latin words; but, by allowing for false spelling, and running the words into each other, the sentences make good sense in English:—

Mollis abuti, (Moll is a beauty,
Has an acuti, Has an acute eye,
No lasso finis, No lass so fine is,
Molli divinis. Molly divine is.
Omi de armis tres, O my dear mistress,
Imi na dis tres, I’m in a distress,
Cantu disco ver Can’t you discover
Meas alo ver? Me as a lover?)

In a subsequent epistolary allusion to this, he says:—

I ritu a verse o na molli o mi ne,
Asta lassa me pole, a lædis o fine;
I ne ver neu a niso ne at in mi ni is;
A manat a glans ora sito fer diis.
De armo lis abuti hos face an hos nos is,
As fer a sal illi, as reddas aro sis;
Ac is o mi molli is almi de lite;
Illo verbi de, an illo verbi nite.

(I writ you a verse on a Molly o’ mine,
As tall as a may pole, a lady so fine;
I never knew any so neat in mine eyes;
A man, at a glance or a sight of her, dies.
Dear Molly’s a beauty, whose face and whose nose is
As fair as a lily, as red as a rose is;
A kiss o’ my Molly is all my delight;
I love her by day, and I love her by night.)

_Extract from the consultation of four physicians on a lord that was
dying_

_1st Doctor._ Is his honor sic? Præ lætus felis pulse. It do es beat veris loto de.

_2d Doctor._ No notis as qui cassi e ver fel tu metri it. Inde edit is as fastas an alarum, ora fire bellat nite.

_3d Doctor._ It is veri hei!

_4th Doctor._ Noto contra dictu in my juge mentitis veri loto de. It is as orto maladi, sum callet. [Here e ver id octo reti resto a par lori na mel an coli post ure.]

_1st D._ It is a me gri mas I opi ne.

_2d D._ No docto rite quit fora quin si. Heris a plane sim tomo fit. Sorites Paracelsus. Præ re adit.

_1st D._ Nono, Doctor, I ne ver quo te aqua casu do.

_2d D._ Sum arso; mi autoris no ne.

_3d D._ No quare lingat præ senti de si re. His honor is sic offa colli casure as I sit here.

_4th D._ It is æther an atro phi ora colli casu sed: Ire membri re ad it in Doctor me ades esse, here it is.

_3d D._ I ne ver re ad apage in it, no re ver in tendit.

_2d D._ Fer ne is offa qui te di ferent noti o nas i here.

_1st D._ It me bea pluri si; avo metis veri pro perfor a man at his age.

* * * * *

_1st D._ Is his honor sick? Pray let us feel his pulse. It does beat
very slow to-day.

_2d D._ No, no, ’tis as quick as ever I felt; you may try it. Indeed,
it is as fast as an alarum, or a fire-bell at night.

_3d D._ It is very high.

_4th D._ Not to contradict you, in my judgment it is very slow to day.
It is a sort of malady, some call it. (Here every doctor retires to a
parlor in a melancholy posture.)

_1st D._ It is a megrim, as I opine.

_2d D._ No, doctor, I take it for a quinsy. Here is a plain symptom of
it. So writes Paracelsus. Pray read it.

_1st D._ No, no, doctor, I never quote a quack as you do.

_2d D._ Some are so; my author is none.

_3d D._ No quarrelling at present, I desire. His honor is sick of a
colic as sure as I sit here.

_4th D._ It is either an atrophy, or a colic, as you said. I remember
I read it in Dr. Mead’s Essay: here it is.

_3d D._ I never read a page in it, nor ever intend it.

_2d D._ Ferne is of a quite different notion, as I hear.

_1st D._ It may be a pleurisy; a vomit is very proper for a man at his
age.

_2d D._ Ure par donat præsanti des ire; His dis eas is a cata ride clare it.

_3d D._ Atlas tume findit as tone in his quid ni es.

_4th D._ Itis ale pro si fora uti se. Ab lis ter me bene cessa risum de cens. Itis as ure medi in manicas es.

_3d D._ I findit isto late tot hinc offa reme di; fori here his honor is de ad.

_2d D._ His ti meis cum.

_1st D._ Is it trudo ut hinc?

_4th D._ It is veri certa in. His Paris his belli sto ringo ut foris de partu re.

_3d D._ Næ i fis ecce lens is de ad lætus en dum apri esto præ foris sole.

_2d D._ Your pardon at present I desire. His disease is a catarrh, I
declare it.

_3d D._ At last you may find it a stone in his kidneys.

_4th D._ It is a leprosy for aught I see. A blister may be necessary
some days hence. It is a sure remedy in many cases.

_3d D._ I find it is too late to think of a remedy; for I hear his
honor is dead.

_2d D._ His time is come.

_1st D._ Is it true, do you think?

_4th D._ It is very certain. His parish bell is to ring out for his
departure.

_3d D._ Nay, if his excellency’s dead, let us send ’em a priest to
pray for his soul.

UNCONSCIOUS OR UNINTENTIONAL PUNS.

Elizabeth’s _sylvan dress_ was therefore well suited at once to
her height and to the dignity of her mein, which her conscious
rank and _long habits_ of authority had rendered in some degree
too masculine to be seen to the best advantage in ordinary _female
weeds_.—_Kenilworth_, iii. 9.

I’ll _gild_ the faces of the grooms withal
That it may seem their _guilt_.—_Macbeth._

While underneath the eaves
The brooding swallows cling,
As if to show their sunny backs
And _twit_ me with the spring.—_Song of the Shirt._

RUSSIAN DOUBLE ENTENDRE.

The following message was sent to the Emperor Nicholas by one of his generals:—

Voliā Vāschā, ā Varschāvoo vsi’at nemogoo.

{ Volia is yours, }
} but Warsaw I cannot take.
{ Your will is all-powerful, }

CLASSICAL PUNS AND MOTTOES.

Sydney Smith proposed as a motto for Bishop Burgess, brother to the well-known fish-sauce purveyor, the following Virgilian pun (Æn. iv. 1),—

_Gravi_ jamdudum _saucia_ curâ.

A London tobacconist, who had become wealthy, and determined to set up his carriage, applied to a learned gentleman for a motto. The scholar gave him the Horatian question,—

QUID RIDES?

(Why do you laugh?—_Sat. I._ 69)—

which was accordingly adopted, and painted on the panel.

* * * * *

A pedantic bachelor had the following inscription on his tea-caddy:—

TU DOCES.

(Thou Tea-chest.)

_Epitaph on a Cat_, ascribed to Dr. Johnson (Hor. lib. i., c. 12):—

MI-CAT INTER OMNES.

Two gentlemen about to enter an unoccupied pew in a church, the foremost found it locked. His companion, not perceiving it at the moment, inquired why he retreated. “_Pudor vetat_” said he. (Modesty forbids.)

* * * * *

A gentleman at dinner requested a friend to help him to a potato, which he did, saying, “I think you will find that a good mealy one.” “Thank you,” quoth the other: “it could not be _melior_” (better).

* * * * *

A student of Latin, being confined to his room by illness, was called upon by a friend. “What, John,” said the visitor, “sick, eh?” “Yes,” replied John, “_sic sum_” (so I am).

* * * * *

In King’s College were two delinquents named respectively Payne and Culpepper. Payne was expelled, but Culpepper escaped punishment. Upon this, a wit wrote the following apt line:—

_Pœna_ perire potest; _Culpa per_ennis est.

Andrew Borde, author of the _Breviary of Health_, called himself in Latin Andreas Perforatus. This translation of a proper name was according to the fashion of the time, but in this instance includes a pun,—perforatus, _bored_ or pierced.

* * * * *

Joseph II., Emperor of Germany, during a visit to Rome, went to see the princess Santacroce, a young lady of singular beauty, who had an evening _conversazione_. Next morning appeared the following pasquinade. “Pasquin asks, ‘What is the Emperor Joseph come to Rome for?’ Marforio answers, ‘Abaciar la Santa Croce’”—to kiss the Holy Cross.

* * * * *

On the trial of Garnett, the Superior of the Jesuits, for his participation in the Gunpowder Plot, Coke, then Attorney-General, concluded his speech thus:—_Qui cum Jesu itis, non itis cum Jesuitis_.

* * * * *

A few years ago, several Jesuits came into the lecture-room of an Italian professor in the University of Pisa, believing he was about to assail a favorite dogma of theirs. He commenced his lecture with the following words,—

“Quanti Gesuiti sono all’ inferno!”

(How many Jesuits there are in hell!)

When remonstrated with, he said that his words were—

“Quanti—Gesu!—iti sono all’ inferno!”

(How many people, O Jesus! there are in hell!)

* * * * *

D’Israeli says that Bossuet would not join his young companions, and flew to his solitary tasks, while the classical boys avenged themselves by a schoolboy’s pun; applying to _Bossuet_ Virgil’s _bos suet-us aratro_—the ox daily toiling in the plough.

* * * * *

John Randolph of Virginia, and Mr. Dana of Connecticut, while fellow-members of Congress, belonged to different political parties. On one occasion Mr. Dana paid some handsome compliments to Mr. Randolph. When the latter spoke in reply, he quoted from Virgil (Æn. ii.):—

Timeo _Danaos_ et dona ferentes.

A lady having accidentally thrown down a Cremona fiddle with her mantua, Dean Swift instantly remarked,—

“_Mantua_ væ miseræ nimium vicina _Cremonæ_.”

Ah, Mantua, too near the wretched Cremona. (Virg. Ecl. ix. 28.)

* * * * *

To an old gentleman who had lost his spectacles one rainy evening, the Dean said, “If this rain continues all night, you will certainly recover them in the morning betimes:

“Nocte pluit tota—redeunt _spectacula_ mane.” (Virgil.)

Quid facies facies veneris si veneris ante?
Ne pereas pereas, ne sedeas, sedeas.

(What will you do if you shall come before the face of Venus? Lest you
should perish through them, do not sit down, but go away.)

* * * * *

Sir William Dawes, Archbishop of York, was very fond of a pun. His clergy dining with him for the first time after he had lost his wife, he told them he feared they did not find things in so good order as they used to be in the time of poor Mary; and, looking extremely sorrowful, added with a deep sigh, “she was indeed _mare pacificum_.” A curate who knew pretty well what her temper had been, said, “Yes, my lord, but she was _mare mortuum_ first.”

That Homer should a bankrupt be,
Is not so very §ODD D’YE SEE§,
If it be true as I’m instructed,
So §ILL HE HAD§ his books conducted.

PUNNING MOTTOES OF THE ENGLISH PEERAGE.

_Ne vile_ §Fano§—Disgrace not the altar. Motto of the §Fanes§.

§Ne vile§ _velis_—Form no mean wish. The §Nevilles§.

§Cavendo§ _tutus_—Secure by caution. The §Cavendishes§.

§Forte scu§_tum, salus ducum_—A strong shield the safety of leaders. Lord §Fortescue§.

§Ver non§ _semper viret_—The spring is not always green. Lord §Vernon§.

§Vero§ _nihil verius_—Nothing truer than truth. Lord §Vere§.

§Templa§ _quam delecta_—Temples how beloved. Lord §Temple§.

JEUX-DE-MOTS.

SPIRITUAL.

A wag decides—

That whiskey is the key by which many gain an entrance into our prisons and almshouses.

That brandy brands the noses of all who cannot govern their appetites.

That wine causes many a man to take a winding way home.

That punch is the cause of many unfriendly punches.

That ale causes many ailings, while beer brings many to the bier.

That champagne is the source of many a real pain.

That gin-slings have “slewed” more than the slings of old.

That the reputation of being fond of cock-tails is not a feather in any man’s cap.

That the money spent for port that is supplied by portly gents would support many a poor family.

That porter is a weak supporter for those who are weak in body.

ANAGRAMMATIC.

The following sentence is said to be taken from a volume of sermons published during the reign of James I.:—

This _dial_ shows that we must _die all_; yet notwithstanding, _all houses_ are turned into _ale houses_; our _cares_ into _cates_; our _paradise_ into a _pair o’ dice_; _matrimony_ into a _matter of money_, and _marriage_ into a _merry age_; our _divines_ have become _dry vines_: it was not so in the days of _Noah_,—_ah! no_.

ITERATIVE.

A clerical gentleman of Hartford, who once attended the House of Representatives to read prayers, being politely requested to remain seated near the speaker during the debate, found himself the spectator of an _unmarrying_ process, so alien to his own vocation, and so characteristic of the readiness of the Legislature of Connecticut to grant divorces, that the result was the following _impromptu_:—

For _cut_-ting all _connect_-ions famed,
_Connect-i-cut_ is fairly named;
I twain _connect_ in one, but you
_Cut_ those whom _I connect_ in two.
Each legislator seems to say,
What you _Connect I cut_ away.

Finn, the comedian, issued the following morceau upon the announcement of his benefit at the Tremont Theatre, Boston:—

Like a _grate full_ of coals I burn,
A _great, full_ house to see;
And if I should not _grateful_ prove,
A _great fool_ I should be.

A FAIR LETTER.

The following letter was received by a young lady at the post-office of a Fair held for the benefit of a church:—

_Fairest of the Fair._ When such _fair_ beings as you have the _fair_-ness to honor our _Fair_ with your _fair_ presence, it is perfectly _fair_ that you should receive good _fare_ from the _fair_ conductors of this _Fair_, and indeed it would be very un-_fair_ if you should not _fare_ well, since it is the endeavor of those whose wel-_fare_ depends upon the success of this _Fair_, to treat all who come _fair_-ly, but to treat with especial _fair_-ness those who are as _fair_ as yourself. We are engaged in a _fair_ cause, a sacred war-_fare_; that is, to speak without un-_fair_-ness, a war-_fare_, not against the _fair_ sex, but against the pockets of their beaux. We therefore hope, gentle reader, “still _fair_est found where all is _fair_,” that you will use all _fair_ exertions in behalf of the praiseworthy af-_fair_ which we have _fair_-ly undertaken. If you take sufficient interest in our wel-_fare_ to lend your _fair_ aid, you will appear _fair_-er than ever in our sight; we will never treat you un-_fair_-ly, and when you withdraw the light of your _fair_ countenance from our _Fair_, we will bid you a kind _Fare_-well.

The following was written on the occasion of a duel in Philadelphia, several years ago:—

Schott and Willing did engage
In duel fierce and hot;
Schott shot Willing willingly,
And Willing he shot Schott.

The shot Schott shot made Willing quite
A spectacle to see;
While Willing’s willing shot went right
Through Schott’s anatomy.

WRITE WRITTEN RIGHT.

_Write_ we know is written right,
When we see it written _write_;
But when we see it written wright,
We know it is not written right:
For write, to have it written right,
Must not be written right or wright,
Nor yet should it be written rite;
But _write_, for so ’tis written right.

TURN TO THE LEFT AS THE (ENGLISH) LAW DIRECTS.

The laws of the Road are a paradox quite:
For when you are travelling along,
If you keep to the §LEFT§ you’re sure to be §RIGHT§,
If you keep to the §RIGHT§ you’ll be §WRONG§.

I cannot bear to see a bear, bear down upon a hare,
When bare of hair he strips the hare, for hare I cry, “forbear!”

ON THE DEATH OF THE EARL OF KILDARE.

Who _killed Kildare_? Who _dared Kildare_ to _kill_?

Death answers,—

I _killed Kildare_, and _dare kill_ whom I will.

§A§ _Cat_§ALECTIC MONODY§.

A _cat_ I sing of famous memory,
Though _cat_achrestical my song may be:
In a small garden _cat_acomb she lies,
And _cat_aclysms fill her comrades’ eyes;
Borne on the air, the _cat_acoustic song
Swells with her virtues’ _cat_alogue along;
No _cat_aplasm could lengthen out her years,
Though mourning friends shed _cat_aracts of tears.
Once loud and strong her _cat_echist-like voice.
It dwindled to a _cat_call’s squeaking noise;
Most _cat_egorical her virtues shone,
By _cat_enation joined each one to one;—
But a vile _cat_chpoll dog, with cruel bite,
Like _cat_ling’s cut, her strength disabled quite;
Her _cat_erwauling pierced the heavy air,
As _cat_aphracts their arms through legions bear;
’Tis vain! as _cat_erpillars drag away
Their lengths, like _cat_tle after busy day,
She lingering died, nor left in kit _kat_ the
Embodiment of this _cat_astrophe.

NOVEMBER.

(The humorous lines of Hood are only applicable to the English climate, where the closing month of autumn is synonymous with fogs, long visages, and suicides.)

No sun—no moon!
No morn—no noon—
No dawn—no dusk—no proper time of day—
No sky—no earthly view—
No distance looking blue—
No roads—no streets—no t’other side the way—
No end to any row—
No indication where the crescents go—
No tops to any steeple—
No recognition of familiar people—
No courtesies for showing ’em—
No knowing ’em—
No travellers at all—no locomotion—
No inkling of the way—no motion—
‘No go’ by land or ocean—
No mail—no post—
No news from any foreign coast—
No park—no ring—no afternoon gentility—
No company—no nobility—
No warmth—no cheerfulness—no healthful ease—
No comfortable feel in any member—
No shade—no shine—no butterflies—no bees—
No fruits—no flowers—no leaves—no birds—
§No-vember§!

* * * * *

The name of that monster of brutality, _Caliban_, in Shakspeare’s
Tempest, is supposed to be anagrammatic of _Canibal_, the old mode of
spelling Cannibal.

A SWARM OF BEES.

B patient, B prayerful, B humble, B mild,
B wise as a Solon, B meek as a child;
B studious, B thoughtful, B loving, B kind;
B sure you make matter subservient to mind.
B cautious, B prudent, B trustful, B true,
B courteous to all men, B friendly with few.
B temperate in argument, pleasure, and wine,
B careful of conduct, of money, of time.
B cheerful, B grateful, B hopeful, B firm,
B peaceful, _be_nevolent, willing to learn;
B courageous, B gentle, B liberal, B just,
B aspiring, B humble, _be_cause thou art dust;
B penitent, circumspect, sound in the faith,
B active, devoted; B faithful till death.
B honest, B holy, transparent, and pure;
B dependent, B Christ-like, and you’ll B secure.

THE BEES OF THE BIBLE.

Be kindly affectioned one to another.
Be sober, and watch unto prayer.
Be content with such things as ye have.
Be strong in the Lord.
Be courteous.
Be not wise in your own conceits.
Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.
Be not children in understanding.
Be followers of God, as dear children.
Be not weary in well-doing.
Be holy in all manner of conversation.
Be patient unto the coming of the Lord.
Be clothed with humility.

FRANKLIN’S “RE’S.”

Dr. Franklin, in England in the year 1775, was asked by a nobleman what would satisfy the Americans. He answered that it might easily be comprised in a few “Re’s,” which he immediately wrote on a piece of paper, thus:—

Re-call your forces.
Re-store Castle William.
Re-pair the damage done to Boston.
Re-peal your unconstitutional acts.
Re-nounce your pretensions to taxes.
Re-fund the duties you have extorted.

After this—

Re-quire, and Re-ceive payment for the destroyed tea, with the voluntary grants of the Colonies; and then Re-joice in a happy Re-conciliation.

THE MISS-NOMERS.

_After the manner of Horace Smith’s “Surnames ever go by contraries.”_

Miss Brown is exceedingly fair,
Miss White is as brown as a berry;
Miss Black has a gray head of hair,
Miss Graves is a flirt ever merry;
Miss Lightbody weighs sixteen stone,
Miss Rich scarce can muster a guinea;
Miss Hare wears a wig, and has none,
And Miss Solomon is a sad ninny!

Miss Mildmay’s a terrible scold,
Miss Dove’s ever cross and contrary;
Miss Young is now grown very old,
And Miss Heavyside’s light as a fairy!
Miss Short is at least five feet ten,
Miss Noble’s of humble extraction;
Miss Love has a hatred towards men,
Whilst Miss Still is forever in action.

Miss Green is a regular _blue_,
Miss Scarlet looks pale as a lily;
Miss Violet ne’er shrinks from our view,
And Miss Wiseman thinks all the men silly!
Miss Goodchild’s a naughty young elf,
Miss Lyon’s from terror a fool;
Miss Mee’s not at all like _myself_,
Miss Carpenter no one can rule.

Miss Sadler ne’er mounted a horse,
While Miss Groom from the stable will run;
Miss Kilmore can’t look on a corse,
And Miss Aimwell ne’er levelled a gun;
Miss Greathead has no brains at all,
Miss Heartwell is ever complaining;
Miss Dance has ne’er been at a ball,
Over hearts Miss Fairweather likes _reigning_!

Miss Wright, she is constantly wrong,
Miss Tickell, alas! is not funny;
Miss Singer ne’er warbled a song,
And alas! poor Miss Cash has no money;
Miss Hateman would give all she’s worth,
To purchase a man to her liking;
Miss Merry is shocked at all mirth,
Miss Boxer the men don’t find _striking_!

Miss Bliss does with sorrow o’erflow,
Miss Hope in despair seeks the tomb;
Miss Joy still anticipates wo,
And Miss Charity’s never “at home!”
Miss Hamlet resides in the city,
The nerves of Miss Standfast are shaken;
Miss Prettyman’s beau is not pretty,
And Miss Faithful her love has forsaken!

Miss Porter despises all froth,
Miss Scales they’ll make _wait_, I am thinking;
Miss Meekly is apt to be wroth,
Miss Lofty to meanness is sinking;
Miss Seymore’s as blind as a bat,
Miss Last at a party is first;
Miss Brindle dislikes a striped cat,
And Miss Waters has always a thirst!

Miss Knight is now changed into Day,
Miss Day wants to marry a Knight;
Miss Prudence has just run away,
And Miss Steady assisted her flight;
But success to the fair,—one and all!
No miss-apprehensions be making;—
Though wrong the dear sex to _miss-call_,
There’s no harm, I should hope, in §MISS-TAKING§.

CROOKED COINCIDENCES.

A pamphlet published in the year 1703 has the following strange title: “The _Deformity_ of Sin cured; a Sermon preached at St. Michael’s, _Crooked_-lane, before the Prince of Orange, by the Rev. J. _Crookshanks_. Sold by Matthew Denton, at the _Crooked_ Billet near _Cripple_-gate, and by all other booksellers.” The words of the text are, “_Every crooked path shall be made straight_;” and the prince before whom it was preached was _deformed_ in person.

THE COURT-FOOL’S PUN ON ARCHBISHOP LAUD.

Great praise to God, and _little Laud_ to the devil.

English Words and Forms of Expression.