Puck — May 1877 — page 4: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

(Not from Asop.) Who unus tempus thought she smelt A large-sized mus, and statim felt Inclined to catch him. ew a Novus York a felis dwelt Sed hee poor mus a rat erat Qui una via ran at that, And sic this cat yejunus sat Obliged to watch him. Fit ille rat per alium route Quod he cognovit soon got out Lt there religuit cat, without Tantum ut “Thank you.” Hic moral est. While think you may Ut vos are certus of your prey, He'll fugit by some other way, And sic outflank you. 3 Geo. L, Catiin. FITZNOODLE IN NEW YORK. VUI. OYSTERS AND BIL- LIARDS. Ya-as. Amewicans yer know are vewy fond of oysters, and like English people in this wespect don’t think it the pwoper thing to eat them after Apwil, or in any month that hasn’t an “R,” It’s wather stwange that Amewicans should do this sort of thing, because in eating and dwinking as a wule they often adopt pwactices just opposite to the only corwect and Bwitish way, and I should have thought that they would eat oysters in months that hadn’t an “R." There are a gweat many and varwied ways of pweparing these things, vewy incom- pwehensible to a fellaw at first, but now I have a wemote idea of the arwangements, but they are vewy cuwious—by Jove. Ya-as, evewy other shop is an oyster establish- ment, and the cwack place to welish these things is in a not vewy awistocwatic part of the city, in a wemarkably dirty stweet near 2 ferwy which leads to a village called Bwooklyn. 1 went with some fellaws. The place is in a market, and is kept by forweigners whose names I can’t wemember.. My memowy ’s wetched for names. They wanted to know if I’d have “a half-shell” war, “a fwy,” “a woast,” or “a stoo.” I wesolved to wisk ‘a war,” for I didn’t know what the deuce ‘‘a stoo” was, had ordered ‘saddle wocks”—twemendous cwea- tures—and I couldn’t manage more than thwee. They give you biscuits, which Amewicans widiculously call cwackers. Why, I don’t know, for they didn’t appear to cwack at all, and then you are expected to eat some chopped white gweens or cabbage. I dwank betr with all thes¢ things, and then a waiter fellaw thwows at you in a vewy wude way a table-napkin and a piece of cardboard, on which is pwinted how much a fellaw has to pay, and then you hand the pwopwictor the gweenbacks and the ticket, and go out. It’s awfully funny that evewywhere, and even in a wepublic like Amewica, a fellaw has to pay for things just the same as if he were in a countwy where there’s woyalty. After we’d lit our weeds and cigarwettes it was pwoposed that we have some twifling re- cweation in the shape of billiards. So we dwove to a large billiard-woom, where there were a gweat many tables. Amewicans are weally vewy pwovoking, they won't let things wemain English, but twy to alter them, so that a fellaw gets terwibly puzzled, yer know, in wonderwing what they mean. ‘There are no pockets in the wegular tables, but evewy fellaw has instead a pocket in the back of his twousers, some say for wevolvers. The cues are thicker, and the tables are considerwably smaller than ours, and it al- most dwives me cwazy to hear fellaws call “a cannon” “a carwom,” ‘a fluke” ‘‘a sewatch,” and they don’t know what ‘‘hazards” are or “spot stwokes,” and then to have to mark for yourself with wooden beads stwung on wire acwoss the woom. I can’t take the twouble to do this; so next time, when I want to “woll the ivorwies” about, I shall wequest a small boy to attend on me, and do the work which isn’t fit for a well-bwed man. . PUCK’S PERSONAL INTELLIGENCE. ENOR Don Alfandega de Alfalfa de Jones ) is at the Hoboken House. Garfield does nut-oil his hair. Smith de Montmorency, the famous artist in whitewash, will remain at his studio in Gowanus during the summer. Brigham Young sees the handwriting on the wall. With us, it generally takes the form of zebras and several species of reptilia. Ladies should be warned in time by the fate of the charming member of their sex who at- tempted to evade the Custom-house duties at Lockport the other day. They should not at- tempt to smuggle Canada catamounts or snow- shoes concealed in their petticoats. It is much better to sew them in the lining of your hus- band’s hat. We hereby give public notice that anybody interfering with our freedom of streets will be dealt with according to law. We have got our license. Our coach is the only one that keeps on the road all the year round, irrespective of the sea- son. It starts from Forty-third street and Fifth avenue, runs via Broadway to Wall-street ferry, and back. Fare, each way, 10 cents; box-seats cost a cigar to the driver. N.B.—A five-cent one will do. Mules don’t know the difference between a logarithm and a square root. Pigs do. “There will be many gin-blossoms this year. Blockheads never have any difficulty in get- ting up subscriptions. ‘They all chip in. ‘Tweed wears his coat parted in the middle. If you want to preserve your wife’s respect, never comment upon her new bonnet, but wait for your opportunity, and then squirt tobacco juice over it when she isn’t looking. Madame de Stael never wore pull-backs; neither did Frederick the Great. Zach Chandler spells his first name with a capital Zach. ‘These are times when his old friends strike the Hera/d’s P. I. man for a $ and find he hasn't got one. Horse-chestnuts cannot be found in mares’ nests. Ward Lamon interviewed the President the other day. The President took his with Lamon In it. We have no prejudice against Omnibus Bill ‘on account of his occupation. Even if he does drive a stage, we will eschew coarse familiarity, and call him William. For an exact parallel to the present political situation, see Hezekiah Second, VII, 13. ‘The veterinary surgeons did not agree in the late car-driver-cruelty-to-animal’s case. Vedder- in-ary case they would, we do not know. Heigho! Have you got a fan? Don’t spell curious with ag, or Jemima with ag. Kars is the place for George Francis's Train. Shrimps will not cure measles. Constantinople is the capital of Turkey. If you don’t know where to go this summer, don’t go there. Speaking of Rapid ‘Transit, “ Perdition catch my soul, but I do love thee, and when I love thee not, car-horse is come again!” The Hornellsville Palladium is antagonistic to the present administration. A great-grandson of John Jones recently died atBarcelona, at the age of forty. He inherited many of the remarkable characteristics of his distinguished ancestor. The celebrated philanthropist, Guglielmo Patersoni, is dead. He was struck by an un- known assassin in the streets of Palermo. LITTLE TOMMY’S TALKS. Il. I pipn’r have that other talk when I meant to. I’ve been sick. Mama said ’moking was a nasty, dirty, dis- graceful habit, and bad for the window-cur- tains. Papa said it wasn’t. He said all wise men ’moked, and that it was good for his rheumat- ism, and that he didn’t care for the window- curtains, not a—that fing that busts and drowns people, I forget its name. And he said that women didn’t know much, anyway, and they couldn’t reason like men. So the next time that papa wasn’t nice a bit —that day I frew over the accawarii felt as if I had the rheumatism eve: went to sit down, I just got papa’s pipe and loaded it and ‘moked it. And they put mustard-plasters on my tum- mick till they most burned a hole in it, I guess. I fink they fought I was going to die. Idid. I fought so. Mama said Iwas going to be a little cherub. Nurse said so too. Then she went to put an- ozzer mustard plaster on, and I didn’t want her to, so she called me someting else. I guess that was ’cause I frew the mustard-plaster in her face. I don’t want to be a cherub, anyway. Cherubs are little boys wivout any bodies or legs to them; nothing but little wings right back of their ears. They can’t have mustard- plasters put on them, but then they don’t have much fun, and I guess the angels use them for playing marbles. ‘The other angels are called Syrups. ‘They wear night-gowns and goldrings about their heads, and no end of wings. ‘They haven’t anyfing much to do except tote around little harps and play tag, and loaf about on the clouds. But I wouldn't want to be a Syrup unless I could have a tail, too, like a mermaid or a lob- ster, ‘Anyhow I’d rather be little Tommy for a while yet. But I won't ’moke again. I guess mama was right. May be I’m some- fing like a window-curtain. ’Moking is'nt good | for me. Wonc Cun Foo and Charley Parsloe are going to join forces after the fashion of Moody and Sankey, and travel around the country, singing the Buddhist revival songs, “Hold the chopsticks, I am coming,” ‘Nothing but pig- tails,” and ‘‘ Nankeen-and-Nine.””