Identifier: punchv50lemo (find matches)
Title: Punch
Year: 1841 (1840s)
Authors: Lemon, Mark, 1809-1870 Mayhew, Henry, 1812-1887 Taylor, Tom, 1817-1880 Brooks, Shirley, 1816-1874 Burnand, F. C. (Francis Cowley), 1836-1917 Seaman, Owen, 1861-1936
Subjects: English wit and humor English wit and humor, Pictorial
Publisher: (London) : (Punch Publications Ltd., etc.)
Contributing Library: Lincoln Financial Foundation Collection
Digitizing Sponsor: The Institute of Museum and Library Services through an Indiana State Library LSTA Grant

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rvation, into which it wouldn t do toenter before the present unappreciative company.Short-sighted Person, (who has been trying to read the inscription says,with a view to drawing tfie attention of the company) 1 can t make it out.(Laughs, and is joined by the guest who has only spoken once, and laughedonce, since the soup.) I can just read your name (to the host) and con-gratulation, then theres something that (peering into it)I looks like(laughs) Blackguard (laughs and turns to his neighbour), but it can tbe that, ha! ha! Browninson is obliged to explain that it it Blackguard, and hasto tell the story. Ever afterwards the Vase is carefully locked away,until a new butler comes, and, being uninstructed in this matter, placesthe Testimonial in the centre of a large dinner-party. And the moralof it is this : let Testimonial-giving be rare, and justified by the occa-sion • but if there must be testimonials, look to your inscriptions. 160 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. (April 14, 1866.
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THIS IS CAPTAIN LARBOARD AND HIS WONDERFUL BEDSTEAD, By means op which he hopes to Protract his Inventive and Useless Existence into the Twentieth Century. OBSERVE—to the left, a large magnet; to the right, a small windlass—the magnet increasing the captains vital energy, while the Windlass regulates his Bed by the Points of the Compass. He is seen in the Act of roaring out to his Man— Nor-Nor-East, you old Stupid!—Nor-Nor-East ! You made it due North last Night, and that, you know, is a greatdeal too Strong. HOW WE KILL OUR PAUPEBS. Once upon a time said Dr. Samuel Johnson,/ Dont talk to me offeelings, Sir! Punch has no feelings! Punch would be spared much sadness, if this were now the truth. Ifhe really had no feelings, Punch could read without a pang the descrip-tions of the styes (or casual wards some call them) where the poorare hovelled and hustled together like swine, and could hear unmovedthe horrors which are told of the infirmaries that Bumbledom provides. Mr. Ernest

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