Here is something like a justification of the enormity; and, as the pupil is to mix in all societies, he may as well be prepared.
Puns may be divided into different classes; they may be made in different ways, introduced by passing circumstances, or by references to bygone events; they may be thrown in anecdotically, or conundrumwise.
It is to be observed that feeling, or pity, or commiseration, or grief are not to stand in the way of a pun—that personal defects are to be made available, and that sense, so as the sound answers, has nothing to do with the business.
If a man is pathetically describing the funeral of his mother or sister or wife, it is quite allowable to call it a "black-burying party," or to talk of a "fit of coffin"; a weeping relative struggling to conceal his grief may be likened to a commander of "private tears"; throw in a joke about the phrase of "funerals performed" and a re-hearsal; and wind up with the anagram real-fun, funeral.
I give this instance first, in order to explain that nothing, however solemn the subject, is to stand in the way of a pun.
It is allowable, when you have run a subject dry in English, to hitch in a bit of any other language which may sound to your liking. For instance, on a fishing party. You say fishing is out of your line; yet, if you did not keep a float, you would deserve a rod; and if anybody affects to find fault with your joke, exclaim: "Oh, vous bête!"
There you have line, rod, float, and bait ready to your hand.
Call two noodles from the city in a punt, endeavoring to catch small fry, "East Angles"; or, if you please, observe that "the punters are losing the fish," "catching nothing but a cold," or that "the fish are too deep for them." Call the Thames a "tidy" river; but say you prefer the Isis in hot weather.
Personal deformities or constitutional calamities are always to be laid hold of. If anybody tells you that a dear friend has lost his sight, observe that it will make him more hospitable than ever, since now he would be glad to see anybody.
If a clergyman breaks his leg, remark that he is no longer a clergyman, but a lame man. If a poet is seized with apoplexy, affect to disbelieve it, although you know it to be true, in order to say—