The Ceremony of In-stall-ing to commence at Half Past Six o’clock Precisely.
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!!!
The attention of readers will probably be attracted by the advertisement so elaborately concocted and carefully worked out. If its promoters received any extra support because of it, they certainly deserved what they got, as the plan is difficult to connect with any but large bills. The next item we have brings us to the year 1853, and is again from the county of Northumberland. It is far more pretentious than the composition of Mr John Catcheside, but by no means so successful. It is from the pen of a general shopkeeper, who evidently considered he had done something when he had been through his proofs, seen this to press, and forwarded copies to unsuspecting, and, as it turned out, unsympathising, families about G——, a small place not very far from Newcastle:—
To the inhabitants of G—— and its neighbourhood.
The present age is teeming with advantages which no preceding era in the history of mankind has afforded to the human family. New schemes are projecting to enlighten and extend civilisation, Railways have been projected and carried out by an enterprising and spirited nation, while Science in its gigantic power (simple yet sublime) affords to the human mind so many facilities to explore its rich resources, the Seasons roll on in their usual course producing light and heat, the vivifying rays of the sun and the fructifying influences of nature producing food and happiness to the Sons of Toil, while to the people of G—— and its neighbourhood a rich and extensive variety of Fashionable Goods is to be found in my Warehouse, which have just been selected with the greatest care. The earliest visit is requested to convey to the mind an adequate idea of the great extent of his purchases, comprising, as it does, all that is elegant and useful, cheap and substantial to the light-hearted votaries of Matrimony, the Matrons of Reflection, the Man of Industry, and the Disconsolate Victims of Bereavement.
This composition having been printed and distributed, the author waited impatiently for its powerful effect, and when to his great astonishment he discovered that it had produced none, he, with the irritability that nearly always accompanies neglected genius, resolved to get back and destroy every copy of his essay, and thereby deny to posterity what his own generation could not appreciate. Fortunately for ourselves, and for ages yet unborn, a copy was preserved, and printed in Notes and Queries.
Most dwellers for any time in London remember Lord Chief Baron Nicholson and his Judge and Jury Society, which used to be held at the Coal Hole in the Strand. Virtuous readers may shudder at the mention of such a place; but time was when the deliberations and decisions of the jury, as well as the directions of the judge and the peculiarities of the witnesses, were productive of mirth independent of double entendre among an audience composed of anything but roysterers and howling cads. In such halcyon days, when Nicholson was in the flesh, looking much more like a chief baron than nine-tenths of the possessors of the title ever did, the following handbill was printed:—
The Lord Chief Baron
NICHOLSON
Begs to inform his best friends, the Public, that he and the learned Gentlemen of the Judge and Jury Society, have left the Garrick’s Head in Bow Street, and now hold their Forensic Sittings at the celebrated Coal Hole Tavern, Fountain Court, Strand, every Evening.
A judge!—and in a Coal Hole too!
Quoth rustic John, I can’t believe thee.
That sounds too funny to be true,
Come Nicholson, now don’t deceive me.