Puck — September 18, 1878 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

THE PRESIDENCY OF VASSAR. O, the Associated Press informs us, Prof. <S) Samuel L. Caldwell, of the Newton Theo- logical Seminary, Mass., has been elected President of Vassar College. We always liked Caldwell. Long before Sam was a professor of anything; the time his aged grand-parentess seizing him by the slack of his trous—but no matter. ‘There are some things too, too sacred to be imparted to the public for ten cents. ‘As we have said, we always kept on hand a love that enfolded itself, anacondawise, about the heart of Samuel, and hugged it. Yet we regret that Sam is to preside over those dear creatures at Vassar. Not that we love Sam I.ss, but that we love Wooman, lovely wooman more. Puck did not interfere in all the caucusing, the wire-pullings, the log-rollings which have been exciting the scholastic public for the many weeks now just past. We allowed the matter to be settled without any intervention on our part. But now that the trustees have stultified them- selves by electing a Afan to the position of President, we feel we can fairly, and without prejudice, announce the names we should have put in nomination, We are not particular. We should have been satisfied either with Mrs, san I}. Stanton, Miss Elizabeth Cady Anderson, Miss Anna—Vinnic—Oh! what the Dickinson's her name? Or, Miss Whitelaw Reid. Any of these would have satisfied Puck. What we desire is that wooman should be edu- cated by wooman, What does Sam Caldwell know about doing up back-hair in coils, and putting in undis- coverable hairpins ? Did he, we ask in all sincerity, ever bang his front locks? Does he consider himself competent to de- cide between Youth's Laird of Bloom and poudre de riz; and does he, or does he not, use ‘a lamp-blacked crochet-needle for his eye- brows? No mere Man is supposed to be “up” in such intricate matters, ‘And as to the Chemiloon question—why, we don’t believe that Professor Caldwell ever even wore a chemiloon; and, worse than that—he wears his gart—his elastics below the knee!!! But there is yet a still more serious side to this matter, From what we know of Sam Caldwell we can safely assert that he believes wooman’s kingdom is in her home; that to be powerful she must be essentially feminine; that her strength is in her beautiful weakness; and her glory is that her very dependence giveth her dominion. How quickly would Susan B, Cady or Eliza- beth Whitelaw Dickinson dispel such absurd fallacies! ‘They would at once arrange a curriculum for Vassar College, which would bring the young ladies now being educated at that seat of love to a proper realization of their duties as citizenessences—as Dave Reed, in his “Stump Speech,” used to call it. We would then have had our girls educated to that point wherein they could easily set men at naught, and erase, as it were, the human mas- culine gender from their copy-books. ‘Theses on “ Primaries” would be written: I. How to cram a “ Primary.” II. How to sneer at the clothes of the Oppo- sition until they ‘got mad” and bolted. 111, How to bounce the candidatess unless she “put up” for cut-paper patterns and ice- cream for the crowd, Advanced classes would be instructed in the PUCK. 3 larger ethics of Wooman’s Rights; classified thus: Syllogism: A Sinner should be punished. Man is a Sinner, Ergo, (q. e. d.) Man should be punished. Before graduation female Bachelors of Female Arts would receive special lectures in the finesse of nagging; of voluntary hysterics; of the science of securing mysterious visits of mothers-in-law at inopportune moments for the male-syco- phant of the family; and the prolongation of the m-in-l’s visits. Also, lessons in stump-speaking. “Fel- lo-0-0-W citizen-women! Shall the American Eagle be allowed to crow? No! never’ He must—that is she—that is—what we want is a Female Bird of Freedom that will cackle—the hen-Bird of Freedom"—etc., ete. It is the non-education of lovely wooman that allowed her to be kicked out of Hilton’s Wooman’s Home. Can any right-minded female suppose for a moment that had Judge Hilton-Stewart’s gorgeous caravanserai been filled with Vassar graduates, brought up under the tutelary charge of Mrs. Susan B, Whitelaw, they would not have taken Mr. Tweed's judi- cial friend and have spanked him? Certainly, they would, Spanking the male drone of the family would then have been in the curriculum of Vassar. It will be seen at a glance what would have been the possibilities of the Vassar institution had Puck's ideas been carried out. But, as it is, we must make the best of it. Although Prof, Caldwell is only a man, these earnest words of kindly suggestion—not of dictation, O, no! not of dictation—will, we are sure, fall upon fertile ground, and, taking root, grow there. ‘hat is, insomuch as it is in his power as a mere man to accomplish these great ends. Puck himself would go up and give the girls daily lectures in the Whole Duty of Wooman, but for what Kearney would call the “ mock modesty of modern civilization; Puck’s nether make-up being of that primitiveness that he fears a visit from him to the grounds of Vassar would result in his being chased off the premises by the angry assaults of the infuriated janitor. REPORTERS LIBELLED. ee — Bi heard, the other day, this cruel fling at a Sun reporter: He had been paid his > weekly salary—a large one—on Saturday, and on Sunday morning a friend asked him for a small loan. “What,” cried the astonished reporter, “lend money at this time of the week! I spent my last cent yesterday.” Again, I heard a Heartless Falsehood about a Herald man. He was reporting an execution. It was just when the rope had been adjusted around the culprit’s neck.‘ What do you call this stillness?” he asked of a World man by his side. “T call it ‘silence—the tribute to. approach- ing death,’” replied the man of the Wor/d. Next day in the Hera/d this line occurred: “Silence, the tribute to approaching death, fen took place.” Next, there is current a Brutal Lie (I weigh my words carefully), a Brutal Lie concerning a Tribune Reporter. He had been a reporter only a few days and was full of ambition and enthusiasm. He read in the Brooklyn papers that a wealthy man in Remsen street was to give a party that very evening. Being near the mansion he hurried thither. ‘‘lell me, for the Zribune,” he cried, “all about your party — who? how many? when? why?” dough a man of reputation, the host was a reprobate and took advantage of the guileless youth, “Glad you came,” said he; ‘I shall have here to-night Ex-Governor Tilden, Governor Robinson, Barney Aaron, Lily Devereux Blake, Henry Ward Beecher, Bill Tovee, Anna Dickin- son, Josephine Mansfield, Henry Bergh and Ten- nie C, Claflin.” (The reporter stared). ‘(Come at nine to-night; Aaron and Tovee will box in the dining room, there'll be a dog-fight in the cellar just to. show Mr. Beecher and William E. Dodge how those things go, and_ will have some kissing games and dances in the parlor.” (The reporter was open-mouthed, yet speech- less), ‘Come at nine.” The reporter tele- graphed to the office ‘Got a screamer—hold all the first page—be there at midnight,” and at nine o'clock was shown through the crowd- ed, gay hall on Remsen street by the gentle- man himself. ‘S-s-s-s-h!”” said the host, “ the dog-fight’s in progress in the c:llar.” ‘Down stairs went the reporter, and when he opened the cellar-door the host pushed him into the dark, damp room, and shutting the door, which had a catch-lock to secure it—left the news- seeker alone there. Of course there was no dog-fight. At two in the morning, when the last guest had gone, a servant had released the reporter, gave him a glass of wine and a slice of cake, and bade him, with coarse language, seek the residence of his maternal parent and saturate his head. Finally, currency is given to a scurrilous, shameful invention against the reporters of the Star, 1 ask the Editor of Puck to print this nauseating fabrication—that although decent people may shudder, they will, at least, learn to what measureless Extremes Malicious Liars (I appreciate and accept the consequences of this characterization), Liars will go in their endeavors to Blast the tender lives of this De- fenseless People—the reporters of the daily press. It seems that a Star reporter asked a physi- cian to prescribe for him, ‘The physician did so; his instructions were followed: but the Star man returned next day unbenefited. “I'll give you a powerful dose,” the physician said. Next day the reporter astonished the physician with a declaration that the medicine effected nothing. ‘I'll give you something that would weaken a Herring's safe,” said the waggish medicine man, but the reporter returned next day, as usual. “What ave you, anyway?” the physician asked. “Tam-a Star reporter,” the invalid replied. “Oh, hang it,” said the Doctor. “Here, take a quarter and get something to eat. No wonder my medicines were powerless.” And while Iam about it, let me deny, over my own name, some of the infamous tales that are told against the various newspapers them- ‘The Herald forms are not made up with a shovel. Lig No, 2:- ‘The World men are not called up for dress-review in steel-pen coats every afternoon,and examined in eight-syllable words. Lie No, 3:—The Sun men are not provided with microscopes with which to see what they have written after it is printed in the paper, and they do nof (lie No. 4) lop off the begin- ning and end of each article and run a blue pencil through the middle to make the article as concise as possible. Liz No. 5:—The Zribune reporters and edi- tors who recently picnicked together, on Staten Island in the rain, did no¢ ask their paper to pay for the ruined feathers in their bonnets and the mudstains on the bottoms of their skirts, Finally, it is nof the invariable practice of Brooklyn reporters, when testifying under oath, to say in reply to the question, What is your occupation? “Iam a journalist, sir.” Let all these falsehoods be crushed, at once and forever. Put FULuer. comicbooks.com