Puck — July 16, 1879 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

PUCK. THE SUMMER PLAIN! OF THE EDITOR. IHE editor sat in his great easy chair, With pastepot and scissors at band, A shade o'er his eyes to keep out the light's glare ‘As a pile of exchanges he scanned; His brow it was wrinkled with furrows of thought, ‘And his nose had a sad, pensive air, For his mind it was working, but nothing it brought, While he nervously fingered his hair. The reporters were all at their desks in the room, But no ‘édetails” as yet for their waiting Had come from the “City,” who, wrapped up in gloom, ‘Some problem in mind seemed debating; And, one by one, as the waves on the shore, At the “City” they'd anxiously peer, And, grabbing their note-books, would slide for the door, To ‘take down” a few schooners of beer. ‘And as the last man through the portals went out, The *‘City” looked up from his toil, And smiled a sad smile as he wriggled about Like a man with a well-seated —: «Poot fellows,” he murmured, “ I know it is rough To be hanging all night round this place, But, of two positions, mine is the most tough, Though I'm working on salary, not ‘space.’ ««T'm at my wits’ end to know what to do, And can't, for the life of me, think, For in the whole city there’s nothing that’s new (On which I might use printer's ink; To keep thinking on nothing will soon drive me mad, For my ‘schedule’ ’s a blank, empty void, ‘And for days back a subject I scarcely have had, ‘Which makes me feel sour and annoyed. «Now the week before last I might call very good, For the market on murders went ‘long,’ While of suicides there came in quite a flood— Our ‘Sensational’ dished them up strong. There were drownings and accidents, too; I recall Our ‘Police,’ how he jumped up with glee, As the blotters he scanned at Police Central Hall, (And on pay-day went off on a spree.) «In fashionable weddings there’s nothing to tell, Highway robberies show a great dearth, The burglars are cracking some seaside hotel, No babes are abandoned at birth Of fires and explosions I can’t get a line, And theatres are closed for the season, Politicians are bathing in ocean’s salt brine, ‘And an ‘interview’ 's out of all reason. “Our ‘Funny Man’ yesterday died, and was laid ‘Where joking-to-order won’t trouble, Between drinking and writing bad puns ready-made, Poor fellow! he was nearly bent double; Our Scissors’ Man’ ’s down with spring fever so bad ‘That his fingers are palsied with shearing, The ‘Comps.’ up above are howling like mad, And for ‘copy’ are cursing and ‘rearing.’ “« The Foreman is shrieking through the tube from above That I twenty more columns must shake up, (Not a line of ‘back matter for money or love, And the presses delayed by the ‘make-up!") ‘And the ‘devil’ himself—the young imp that he is— Like a ’skeeter from Hoboken hazy, Rushes down from up-stairs with an ink-begrimed phiz, And swears that the foreman’s gone crazy. “Well, well, I suppose I am forced to retain All the time-honored stories retold — “Didn't Know It was Loaded!’ ‘Enoch Arden Again! And the Yarn of the Inbabitant Old; The Sea-Serpent, too, I must not forget, Nor a ‘A Traveling Menagerie Breaks Loose!’ Aha, there is hope!—the night's not gone yet, What remains I will put to good use.” M. F. Donovan. RECONCILING TWO INTERESTS. Firine:—If you insist, Adolphe; but let us spare the modesty of my tender charges. Look at the dirt on your boots, you horrid things! LA CREME DES CHRONIQUES. WHAT THE WITS OF DE BLIN FIND TO SAY IN THEIR PAPERS. “I woutp box your ears,” said a young lady of Bellefaste to her stupid and tiresome ad- mirer, “ if "— “Tf what?” he anxiously asked. “If,” she repeated, ‘I could get a box large enough for the purpose.” Pere pu GANN was exhorting his flock to be honest. He stopped abruptly in his discourse, and, turning to one of his parishioners, said: “'Mon cher fils, you know that the fine sheep you have belongs to the Baron.”” “ That I do, bad luck to him, and if it isn’t the finest he had, it is the finest I could lay hands on. And as for the sin of taking an- other man’s sheep, that's not so great; there’d be small sense in a man stealing onc of hisown.” “Can you sign your name?” a notary asked a witness in Ville de la Reine. “Won't my grandfather's do?” “Nol” “But I was called after my grandfather.” “Then, you idiot, you may sign your grand- father’s name.” “Why didn’t you say so before?” “Heaven's artillery,” exclaimed Mile. Riann in the presence of her big brother, during a thunder storm, “ Well,” muttered the unclassical brute, “ if it's heaven's artillery, it makes a h—I of a noise.” “ This bill is soiled,” said a lady to a butch- er’s boy who had presented ‘“ this bill” for the fifth time. “Qui, madame,” replied the lad, “ boss thought he would grease it to make it go easy with you.” “PLEASE examine my poem,” said an ambi- tious freshman to his professor. “ It is an epic in blank verse, of course.” “ Of course,” repeated the professor, scan- ning his “ poem” closely, “it is blank verse whether it rhymes or not.” Pourquoi 2” “ Because there is nothing in it.” # Leo C. Evans. FITZNOODLE IN AMERICA, No. XCV, BRIGHTON BEACH, Ya-as, the last time I wote I especially weferred to the we. gion of the Manhat. tan Beach terwitor- wy, in which neigh- borhood there is a hotel and a stwuc- ture faw fellaws who play bwass and weed instwuments, and varwious nondescwipt buildings faw people to undwess themselves who are desirwous of dip- ping their persons in the bwiny. And aw, by the way, there is also an enclosed arwange- ment, in ordah to give an opportunity fawa balloon to be pwivately waised fwom the gwound, that fellaws may go up and see the appearwance the countwy pwesents fwom a height of severwal hundwed feet. Aw I wish to make some wemarks about Bwighton B-b-beach, which resort on Coney Island is similar in a’ gweat many wespects to Manhattan Beach, One has the opportunity of aw doing verwy much the same thing at both places. You eat your tolerwable dinnah, with a liberwal supply of clams, dwink your sherwy and clarwet,and smoke your cigarwette, and stwoll along the sandy terwa firma and watch the bweakahs wo-ah. Jack and Miss Marguerwite and severwal of her fwiends were in the party, and we all man- aged to kill the time verwy wespectably, con- siderwing this aw Bwighton has been so we- cently established, The pwincipal dwawbacks are the twibes of the verwy wepublican aw democwatic indivi- duals who fwequent Bwighton and Coney Is- land generwally. Too many aw. Some of them are no doubt well enough in their way, but I think it would be quite a capital ide-ah to weserve some species of arwangement, in the shape of a conservatorwy or othah building, wherein the pwopah descwiption of people only would be admitted. Suppose it would be wa- thah a complicated mattah to carwy out, but I don’t see why it shouldn't be twied. Avellaw doesn’t want on everwy occasion to wub shoul- dahs with his gween-gwocer or tailah. T have pweviously wemarked—in fact aw I’m witing about it—that this wegion ‘is called Bwighton. I'm sure I don’t know the weason, for it doesn't wesemble the orwiginal Bwighton at home, ye know, in any wespect. It is twue it is aw by the sea; but then se Bwighton is on a channel. Our Bwighton, ye see, is not quite as cor- wect as it used to be at a formah perwiod. It’s wathah ovahwun with aw vulgah City men. But still it does verwy well faw fellaws to wun down occasionally and stwoll or dwive on the Mar- ween Parwade. Aw one misses the widing, and the wespecta- ble turnouts, and the Aquarwium built in the wock, and the fine woads, and the othah at- twactions, At this aw Bwighton there are a superwabun- dance and a tolerwably imposing timbah —no othah indications of any pwopah ci tion or settlement. And, besides, until there are stweets and substantially-built wesidences and carwavansarwies, and a fellaw can twavel in this dirwection durwing wintah, I shall nevah be able to bwing myself to believe that this wesort has any pwetensions to being a weal Bwighton aw. Tue difference between having your grass cropped or cut is whether it be done bya morn lower or a lawn mower. ™comicbooks.com