Puck — June 1877 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

PUCK. “PUCK”, No. 13 North William Street, New York FOR SALE BY ALL NEWS DEALERS. Terus Jo Sunscriners. One Copy one year, or 52 numbers. One Copy, six months, or 26 numbers. One Copy for thirteen weeks... Post: Notice to Authors Literary and artistic contributions are solicited. Address all manu- scripts and sketches to PUCK’S CARTOONS. GRANT Our Ex-President is taking his well-deserved holiday, and having, with the help of “Lady Mary” Pierrepont ‘a real nice time,” among our British swell cousins. London gin, Irish and Scotch whiskey, are perhaps not as good as old Bourbon, but they are reputed to possess certain intoxicating qualities which Grant ere this has probably discovered, although if he takes “his little nip” in good company, we shall not mind. his going ‘‘on the spree” even before he gets to Berlin. Our artist has playfully depicted the two dizzy, as Dizzy (Lord. Beaconsfield) is on¢.of them. We present this joke to the read- ers of “Puck” without extra charge. BEECHER JOINS THE RUSSIANS. ‘THE most important event that has taken place since Russia declared war against ‘Turkey has been the unqualified endorsement of the Czar’s licy by Saint Beecher, of Plymouth Church. Franything were wanting to justify Russia, this unexpected alliance would settle that business. ‘The Sublime Porte is now doomed to destruc- tion, beyond a shadow of a doubt. The Ottoman troops might have made some sort of stand against the Muscovite hordes and, have kept them “on the half-shell,” the other side of the Danube. But Beecher’s action has now rendered. such’an idea utterly hopelessand impracticable. The Sultan, not unnaturally, feels badly, and thinks that the Plymouth Church preacher has “gone back on him,” as he always thought their notions regarding the softer sex were in accord. If Beecher sympathized with either belligerent, he (the Sultan) ought to be the favored one. This is certainly the most unkindest cut of all, and the look of astonishment and disappoint- ment depicted on the Moslem’s countenance, as he sees the great moralist, with his Brooklyn baggage, rushing into the open arms of the Czar, is truly heartrending. Even the “lights of the harem,” who have drawn aside the curtains to gaze on the soul stiring scene, afford the injured Sultan no crumbs of comfort. Russian visiting cards are two feet long, and when young Petropaulovski Paskiesmithiwitch wants. to leave one. for Miss ‘Tallowdipsakoff, who's just gone to. aT'rain.Oil Kettledrum,- he sings out to the hired girl that she needn't stop spring-cleaning to;come down from the fourth story, but draws his card out of his Russia- leather card-valise and handsiit to her through the window without any straining ‘of the flexor or extensor muscles. Tue Boston critics have discovered that Clara Morris says,“‘respecterful,” “the best er friends,” “look ut me,” “mor children,” ‘‘it is nort she,” etc. Do as you like, Clara, now that Richard Grant White extends to all us the glorious privilege of spelling, grammaring and pro- nouncing as we please. OUR WATERING-PLACE CORRESPONDENCE. | Lono Brancu, June ist. The season has commenced, and of course I’m here. I shan’t tell you at what hotel, for I don’t want to advertise anybody for nothing. However, Long Branch is quite full. I have met several road-laborers who were very much so. The West End Hotel presents a most bril- liant appearance. The artistic elegance of the closed shutters, and rich carving of the weather-boarded walls, with the delicate colors, laid on by the master-brush of the most re- | nowned of New Jersey painters, makes a fellow | feel that he is in a region where esthetics are | cultivated “some.” ‘The great French win- dows are stained most exquisitely with weird and pre-Raphaelite designs. Indeed, they’re so much pre-Raphaelite that I couldn’t make out exactly what they were intended to repre- sent. ‘The artist wasn’t surprised at my obtuse- ness, as he said the figures were formed by grace- ful drippings from his palette when engaged in coating and tinting the upper window-sills. 1 might speak of the alabaster and jasper wooden columns which support the majestic roof of the piazza, and the too lovely tesselated mosaic en- caustic. timber flooring of this wonderful pile, but I forbear and have only time to send you a sketch of myself and the antique Eastlake fur- niture which at present adorns the parlor of an- other leading hotel. Yours breezily, SurF-WRESTLER. Tuey call it ‘malversation” in ‘Turkey. Herewe style it ‘addition, division and silence,” in the matter of army rings, and shoddy con- tracts. i Generat Joun B. Hoop, of New Orleans, | has just been. presented .with his third pair of twins, He says: “Twas ever thus from childhood’s hour,” and mourns that the last weren't triplets, for 3 of a kind beat two pairs. Porttanp had an old woman who was killed in bed by falling plaster. Her fate was of her own ceiling. “How Women Love,” is the title of a new drama in. Philadelphia. Yes, we have often thought how they do love—to spend money. “Corn in Drills” is the subject of an article in the Country Gentleman... Anybody who has ever attended. a Connecticut militia traihing, and watched them go through their manceu- vres, with the whiskey shops open in all direc- tions, ought to know what the effect of corn in drills is. MY STAGE-STRUCK LOVE. You ask me why ~ My true, fond heart With Cupid's dart No more doth smart; And why the sigh That once I sighed For her, my pride, At last has died ? And I reply: ‘Tis sad, I trow, When first I knew My love so true, She did not do What she does now. Once she was mild— A simple child; But now she’s wild. T'll tell you how: She raves and tears Her golden hairs, And with grave cares She knits her brow. O grief! O rage! I'm left alone, She, once my own, Hath flown, hath flown Upon the stage; The fever came! She yearned for fame, And sought the same On Thespis’ page. No more I'll fret, Farewell desire, Farewell the fire That leads us nigher Sweet Love's regret; For I'm no fool, To be the tool; Of glory’s rule; “Love's star has set. And well I know The secret woe ‘Of Romeo And Juliet. I've let her go! I'm free, I'm free! A Juliet, she, But I'll ne’er be Her Romeo. S.R. We. hope they will get these disputes about telling the correct time of day settled pretty { soon. It is dreadfully annoying to us to have to wait every noon, before going to lunch, to find out whether the Z7iéune clock agrees with sto- mach-time, or the Western Union building has struck the middle of the day yet, or not. A Paper on the “Feasts of our Forefathers’ was read at a meeting of the New York His- torical Society last week; Dut it didn’t show that our ancestors were any better able to geta fifty-cent feed for ten cents than we are. Henry Bercu says where there's swill there’s not always sway to arrest the guilty parties. A SMALL boy, who no-harm apprehiénded, To the tree-top serenely ascended, ! » Foran immature peach ‘Phat hung out of reach. “The funeral was largely attended. comicbooks.com