Puck — December 11, 1878 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

PUCK. FROM TOUGH TO TENDER. AGN—S D. J—NKS. House or Reresentativas, Dec. 2. RICH and rare and racy dame, Sweet source of joy, fair fount of joking! Pardon my daring—do not blame ‘What follows of your own provoking. Behold, I write—dare trace with ink My thoughts, full knowing all the danger! (Ah, shade of Weber, only think Of thine old friend and my young stranger!) T’'m not dictated to in this; I shan’t dictate it to another; My own hand opes the gates of bliss Or brings me everlasting bother. This gay old eye, so eloquent On themes that have no need of gender, Is powerless here; ‘twas never meant To kindle up the passion tender. ‘The tender passion—there, ‘tis out! T’ve done it now and I'll stand by it; Till never throw a shady doubt On this my deed, much less deny it, I, Ben, am conquered. In one week Your modest mien and violet shyness Enslaved me—O Princess of Cheek, I do adore your Royal Highness! Long before now I meant that I Should send this missive to my charmer; But I had different fish to fry With horny artisan and farmer. Now that my ruder cares are gone, T'll teach my tongue to tip the blarney, And banish to oblivion All memory of that cursed Kearney, The longed-for day returns, sweet one; Investigation recommences; I burn with joy to think how soon ‘Again you'll charm our souls and senses. Within my very heart of hearts I cherish the responses witty, And the enchanting little arts ‘Wherewith you ‘sat on” our Committee. Once on a time some fellow said ‘Twould take an effort superhuman To get fun through a Scotchman’s head: What would he think of my Scotchwoman ? Fair wanderer from tHe Land of Itch! Brass idol of my adoration! If you and I can only hitch Well faraish fun for all creation. You dear dissembler! I had long Believed no love-links could have bound me, Nor ever dreamed that one among Your sex could cast a spell around me, But see me now—the meekest slave That ever cringed to femininity! ‘Ten thousand worlds in arms I'd brave For you, my new-found-out affinity. You'll say, perhaps—' There's Tom, you knows My Thomas Jenks, who says I'm his'n.” Perish Tom Jenks! why don't you go ‘And cut the creature's worthless “‘wizzin!” Some night when he his couch has sought ‘And snoring sound asleep you find him, Jost hit him—but, on second thought, That fellow’s nobody; don’t mind him! B, F. B. per FLorry Herr. LETTER OF TSIN-YANG-HI, 5 A CHINAMAN, CCHENDE Na NI Nt aie TO HIS FRIENDS AND RELATIVES IN HONG-KONG. (Translated from the Chinese by one of Puck's learned mea.) May Heaven save the Emperor and protect the Flowery Kingdom! Dear friends :—Vishnu be praised! times are improving in the country of Melica where we have built our joss-hovses, No longer are the children of the Flowery Kingdom assassicated at the Golden Gate, and the embassadors of our most gracious Emperor have found a pleasant abode with the great ruler in his admirable city of Washington. They do not feed on mice and rats, but eat fine dishes and drink wis-kee, and many of the fair sex in the country show love unto them. In the proud city of New York there is plenty of room for John Chinaman, and John’s Laundries are getting more numerous. In the street called Chatham: where cloths of wonder- ful pattern, such as the foreigners wear, are sold, in many other places, I notice the signs with Chinese letters, which gladdens my heart very much, I may without fear go into the street in the robes of my forefathers without getting killed. My friends wear cl ths of the wonderful pattern, and they Icok ike Melican men and walk proudly. If they met a son of —Erin in the street, and who has a mind to beat them, they cry; ‘ You go. eshi!”” and the “ poliman” will politely step up and protect them, It isa great country, and its future is great. The sons of the flowery kingdom will make it even greater; but at present their number is too small. I have a great friend, who answers to the name of Oswalee Ottendolfee, and he is a learned man and mandarin, and he writes in our language and publishes a big paper in the Chinese language. And my friend Ottendolfee tells me that our rights and privileges re writ- ten in the great book at Washington, and no- body can compel us to leave this country where tice and roasted pig and bird’s-nest soup are plenty for all. ‘There is great rejoicing among all of us, be- cause Fi-zi-wang, who has earned a great many taels, has been admitted to Melican citizenship with great rights and high privileges. He will assist in clecting the next Emperor of the Melican republic. Many people and nations are gathered in this country. Among them a great many Germans who are a kindred people, their language is very much like to ours, and they pretend to have invented gunpowder, that is, some time after us. They wear pig-tails stealthily— that is, under their hats, while we wear them openly. I work at a machine that makes shoes, and I have already earned many taels. I have lost some of my taels, which I had deposited at the house called ‘‘ Teutonia.” I have found a help- mate for Tsin-Yang-Hi; she is much more beautiful than the Chinese woman, and is called “Katrina” in German. Melican men are get- ting fewer in this country, and the Great Domi- nion will ultimately belong to the Chinese, and all the world, and also the half-world (which is called demi-monde), will talk our beautiful and blooming language. I pray for you daily. May heaven look upon you with a smile, Tsin-Yanc-H1, OUR INSANE ASYLUMS. v7 E are always glad to note the benefi- cial effect of our cartoons on society at large, and we know well that a man can have no better guide in matters of morality and etiquette than a full file of Puck. But while we are glad to have the world mend its ways by our shining light, we recognize the fact that there is such a thing as over-doing the business, When Mr. Keppler drew his excellent car- toon last week, pointing out the abuses of the lunatic asylums of this country, he did not mean to express a wish that all insane persons should be allowed to wander about at their own sweet will. Confinement is sometimes neces- sary for such people. Insane asylums have their uses, and we are pained to see, by the following communication, addressed to us, that the State of Iowa has misconstrued our idea, and let loose the inmates of her madhouses in a very injudicious way. ‘TRaER Iowa Nov. 25, 1878, To Puck. Mr, Editor: A friend of mine, sent me one of your valu- able papers. (For which may he ever be blest) and on looking over it I chanced to alight on one of your articles entiled, “Gambling at Church fairs" I was struck and read it in- stantly, and was very well pleased with it until Icame to a Paragraph (I think it was Paragraph sth) One clause in particular aroused my ire. It was: “It may be noticed that those states which do not license lotteries are quite heathy.” I read no farther. I was fairly disgusted. Now, my friend, I don’t agree with you. Let me give my reasons.—Iowa as far as I know. anything about it, is as religious a little state as is in the union and as for licensing lotteries I don’t think it ever thought of such a thing. Now you needn’t hold up your hands in holy horror, for I ain’t going to give you sundry cases of yellow fever. Oh, no! I will do no- thing so foolish, All I wish to ask is: why is it that the people around are afflicted with fever and ague, lotteries or no lotteries And, why is it that now the people are getting bet- ter. our fowls, chickens especially are dying, and our turkies are on the drop? You don't understand that, probably? Maybe you will when I tell you that, No turkey, means no Thanksgiving. Well you have no heart to sym- pathize with us, so I will close my rather lengthy epistle by asking why we are both af- fected and afflicted. Please give the answer to this conundrum in the next copy, and send me one as a complimentary at least, because I wish to see your club-rates, P.S. Send me a paper for my great effort at least, P.S. P.S. Please don’t write me up. or connect me in any way with the cipher tele- grams. Address E. Merrion Evergreen, Iowa Wuat_ makes a man’s heart glad is to wake up on a Sunday morning, and find a drizzling rain falling—just enough to prevent his wife from going to church, and to make the fishing good, comicbooks.com