Puck — October 10, 1877 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

PUCK. AN IDYLL OF ANCIENT GREECE. SSS SSS SS SSS SL ( SSS SSSST UMNO This is Plato, son of Ariston, He hadn't a middle name. Among the ancient Greeks he'd insist on Putting love to shame. “Some day,” he preached, “the rough and rude ‘Il Learn what love is called: Learn to love and not to canoodle, Thus they will not get bald.” One fine eve he went out to wander— His pupils on his tracks— On philosophic themes to ponder, And scientific facts; Aristotimus, Daniel, Deronda, And Hermesianax, Ere long Plato, son of Ariston, Got all his fine work in, And that classical maid was kissed on Mouth, and cheeks, and chin, His pupils hissed and hooted, and hissed on, Saying: “ This is a skin.” That his disciples thought him demented History doesn’t prove, But to believe no more they consented, That the Foe of Love Spent his evenings as represented In the cut above.” Sudden, in dress of the Gallic directorate, Rose from the bush a maid. Plato turned pale as the turkey that Hector ate, Started back dismayed; Swallowed the quid that he couldn’t expectorate, ‘Then remarked: ‘ Who's afraid?” OUR WASHING-DAY. .=3 fe was but an experiment. Adelina’s fine feelings had been wounded by the appalling > sums total of the weekly washing-bills. Dozen on dozen of fine linen, and as for small things—O Puck, blessed art thou among men that society permits you to--but that’s neither here nor there—let me return to my domestic afflictions. So Adelina argued that it would cost only a trifle for soap and firing in addition to the fee to secure the services of a “colored lady” to do the laundry in our own house. It was an awful event. Adelina was nervous with momentous preparations, and when everything seemed ready she harassed herself with the idea that we should never wake early enough to receive our sable auxiliary. To meet this difficulty we purchased a patent au- tomatic alarm, with a spring that sent the thing whirring like a watchman’s rattle gone mad. Divers pins and wheels controlled its interior organization, but the wife of my bosom vowed that she understood it all, and we took our prize home. Still she was not happy. She knew we should never be prepared for the ad- vent of the Ethiopian matron on that blessed Monday morning. All church-time on Sunday she thought of her heavy responsibilities. When I sought her sympathetic eye, after a burst of eloquence from Mr. Talmage that fell upon one like rills of cold water down one’s spine, she softly whispered: “I think, after all, we had better rely on the patrolman, dear.” We had no sooner reached home, after evening service, than she ordered us all to bed, where I lay toss- ing about for an hour or two, unable to sleep. Tick, tick, tick, went the infernal machine, with a brazen loudness that defied slumber. Adelina permitted me to carry it into the pas- sage. At last I dropped off into a doze. Sud- denlya nudge on the side and a hurried “ Adol- phus!”” “ What is it?” ‘“ Morning!” she said; “We must get up. That woman will be here at five, and——"” Iam afraid I was profane. I hope not. Either she or I must get up and ascertain the time. I got up. The infernal machine pointed to twelve o'clock. Adelina would not put faith in it—it must be wrong— where was my watch?” But both the hands of the watch pointed to the same figure—it was twelve o'clock, there was no disputing the testimony. Once more’ ina doze. ‘This time there is a figure in white creeping over me. It is Adelina. She takes the watch up and looks anxiously at it. Its twenty minutes to two. She got into bed as quietly as she could, and out of pure pity—for my darling does not like to be found out ina piece of folly, be it ever so small, and is apt to be impatient on such occasions—I pretended to be asleep. The third time it came in earnest, W-h-i-r-r-r-r-r? can never describe it. “Ma!” “Pal” screamed the children from the back bedroom; ‘Fire! Murder! Thieves!” yelled the maid-of-all-work from the attic. W-h-t-r-r-r-r-rt went the infernal machine. I sprang into the passage, rolled the alarm up in a blanket, stamped on it, sat on it, until it had ended its ‘diabolical rattle. At last it stopped. The maid and children were in time pacified, but bed was out of the queston. We all got up and made ourselves dyspeptic on warm coffee, At half-past eight the colored lady arrived. Ah Sin does not charge quiet so much as the regular laundries, and if it were not for the ddliterious gums he puts in my wristbands and collars, we might be happy yet. comicbooks.com