Puck — November 26, 1879 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

— PUCK. PUCK. Nos, 21 & 28 WARREN STREET. VOR SALE BY ALL NEWS DEALERS. Taurus To Susscrinens dn the United States and Canada. ‘one year, or 52 numbers ... Que Copy, six months, or 26 numbers « ‘One Copy, three months, or 13 numbers Inctupma Postacs. -H, C. BUNNER: SFECIAL NOTICES. 5, Remittances by Money Order, ete. are to be addressed to KEPPLER & SCHWAI 5 ¢ to retura rejected communications, and ‘Wa cannot undertak: to this rule we can make no exception. PUCK’'S ANNUAL FOR 1880 has already caused the Presidential issue to become of secondary interest. Lorp BrAconsrietn will not call the British Parlia- ment together until Puck's Annual is issued—neither will Congress be convened or Christ- mas celebrated. This is trustworthy, as will be clearly seen from the announcement that PUCK'S ANNUAL. will be fired upon an expectant world about THE FIRST WEEK IN DECEMBER. ‘The stones, poems and articles, are all new and ori- ginal, and have already received the highest encomiums from their authors and other gifted individuals. As for the pictures, by Puck’s artistic staff, they must be scen to be believed in, The price will be 25 cents currency. WIEINTS. One Thanksgiving. To the Turkey (poem).—Cid. Puckanincs. Me, Mugains Plays Billiards — Puck's Pawrugon — No. VIII. | _ illus. Ephraim Muggi —Thomas F. Bayard. The Gauntlet of Horrors. Qur Seventh.” Fling out the Bloody Stirt!— ee Asc | ilo —_ \anksgiving Day (poem). —H. tus. [Too Taine 19 War, | The Theatres, HW. Axswans ron Tees Axxiovs. A Geatle Querist — ‘Ancuts Gascoree—Joha Fraser Shakspere Studies —Joha Al-| Puce’s Excnances, No. CXV. ‘Thanksgiving Variati True Story ef the Troja No. IL=W. = ONE THANKSGIVING. UCK fell asleep, and had a dream, “The wild wintry wind whistled about the corners of a-mighty mansion, white as the driven snows heaped about it. Night had fallen, and a gloomy and starless sky frowned on the chilled and melancholy earth, I drew my dress-coat more closely about me, and rather yearned, at that moment, if the truth must be confessed, for a swallow-tailed ulster and a pocket-stove. I am young, I am beautiful; but youth and beauty are not wholly independent of the thermometer, and what m: Esteemed Contemporary, the Sun, would c: a “steel-pen coat,” combined with a crayon- holder, form a very inadequate protection inst the inclemency of even the openest winter. But though the keen blast nipped my exposed, and, I may-say, shapely calves, I could not but forget my own sufferings, as I cast my eyes on an old man who stood near me, gazing with eager, wolfish eyes through a window in the large house. . (instinctively I followed his fixed, almost unearthly stare. Looking through the illu- minated panes, I saw a brilliant compan; feasting and making merry, in accordance wit! the traditions of the season. One was a gentle- man with mild, irresolute features, who had the eneral appearance of a western Sunday-School juperintendent, and who in some vague way suggested, to the eye of the beholder, country- fairs, prize-pumpkins, and temperance drinks. How a man could suggest such things, I do not know; but they came to my mind as I regarded him. Perhaps the cold had made me too imaginative. Near this person sat an elderly foreigner, with a spreading beard. He might have been, from his looks, a well-to-do music- teacher—if there ever was such a thing. His neighbor was a stubbly-bearded, bankerish- looking character, smug and complacent, yet with a certain strange speculation in his eye. ‘The fourth feaster was phenomenally thin and dried up, and had a large Roman nose and a muscular nether jaw. But it was on the first described member of the party that the gaze of the old gentleman by my side was riveted, And after a moment, as he grasped my wrist with one icy hand, he pointed the long, tremulous index finger of the other straight at the mild reveler, hissing: ‘Do you see him—there? ‘That’s the man ‘who tells me to be thankful—ME!’ ‘Who are you, then?" I cried in affrighted amazement: ‘speak and tell me who!’ ‘I am,’ he answered, solemnly, ‘the Great Disconcerted. Never mind my name. It is stricken from the roll of fame by a vote of eight to seven. His is there! It is branded with Fraud—Fraud with a fearful big F—but what's the odds? If they had marked him Horse-Thief, or tattooed him in blue, it wouldn’t have done me any good.’ «But what is your story, old man?’ I in- quired. Listen!’ was his reply: ‘and you shall hear a genuine old-fashioned ‘Tale of Woe.’ * Perhaps,’ I suggested, ‘you'll come some- where and sit down, where you can warm your- self and lubricate your thorax, while you're telling it.’ But he heard me not, and went on with undisguised excitement. ‘ That house is ming,’ he said; ‘that turkey is mine; those men are occupying the seats of my guests; that lemonaded orange ought to be soothing my toothless gums and cheering my withered heart. I was elected to the place of that splzy-footed person from Ohio; and I was basely bamboozled out of it. The irony of fate and the in+‘scretion of a nephew, in con- junction with t... fact that the other party got ‘one judge ahead of me, rendered it impossible for me to reap the full benefit of an arduous and expensive campaign. ‘And thus he sits, my hated rival, and sucks his orange just as if he didn’t know it was loaded; and gets mildly exhilarated, and sings hymns while his private secretary picks out the accompaniment on the parlor-organ, with one finger. And all this luxury is mine by rights! ‘And here is what they have given me by way of substitute and consolation—this bone. Now if there is ong invariable characteristic of bones, it is their lack of richness and material sustenance; and this particular bone is getting masticated down pretty fine. Mr. Dana gave it to me when I was first counted out, and he patted me on the head and called me Noble. And when I wept he called me a cry-baby. And now I am ealled the Great Disconcerted, and they say that though I was once cheated out of my rights, I am too smart to be elected ain. Gimme a handkerchief to weep in!’ ‘And, waking up, I left him to his great grief."" Purkerings. Mr. Hayes, if you eat your turkey dry, you have no conception of the sacredness of this festival. Somevopy ought to send the Seventh regi- ment a turkey. We only wonder it hasn't asked for one, More Worlds than one, did you say, Mr. Proctor? Well, really, we always gave it credit for a larger circulation than that. Wuy not elect Dr. Carver a Judge? He seems to have the same qualifications as Mr. Gildersleeve; and more of them. Iris fortunate for Mr. Captain Williams that it_ was Mr. Charles W. Smith, instead of Judge Gildersleeve or Mr. Assistant-District Attorney Rollins. WE are told, that the earth will not be as cold as the moon for 2,500,000,000 years, The moon must be the private paradise of the Adams family. Isn'rit very inconsiderate to leave the Seventh to guard itself all alone in that big armory? Captain Williams really ought to have an eye to the gentle members, Something might happen to them, We have it on trustworthy authority that one well-known Fulton Market butcher gives a blue pill gratis, with every pound-and-a-half of turkey he sells. This is the grand utilitarian blossoming of the chromo idea. Ir Mr, Cyrus André Field, Mr. José Navarro and Mr. Wm. R, Garrison are desirous of learn- ing to a certainty at what temperature the blood freezes, we would strongiy advise their travelling in their deliciously cool cars on their gorgeous monopoly of a railroad. Our E, E.C., the Evening ost, has a corre- spondent who fondly imagines that a man's ancestry militates against his rights of citizen- ship in this country. We should like to refer him to several thousand young Americans of foreign extraction, who allude to their parents as “old Dutchmen,” and still appear to con- sider themselves pretty well at home here. Some enterprising pilots have cast aside the old-fashioned sailing cutter, and now go down to the sea in a steam-tug to board vesséls that seek to enter the port of New York, to guide them safely to a haven of rest in the shape of an anchorage or a berthata pier. The other pilots don’t like it; no more do the commis- sioners of pilots. Poor ill-treated individuals— what a shame that you should be annoyed by steam-tugs or electric telegraphs, or telephones, {OF railroads, or torpedoes, or steam printing resses! You shall go back to your little Middle ;P } Ages and your Noah’s Ark; yes, you shall, ANOMALIES. ‘The polished stove which warms your room Is blackest when it’s bright: The head and limbs and mind of man Are loosest when he's tight: Those folks who are by blood akin Get up the bitterest fight: The blindest man can’t. build a home Unless he has his site: And 'mong the darkeys in the South, The blackest are called White. AL. comicbooks.com