Special Constable: “Now mind, you know—if I kill you, it’s nothing; but if you kill me, by Jove! it’s murder!”
A certain Master Jackey was a great favourite of Leech’s. In an elaborate work this youth’s pranks are chronicled under the heading of “Home for the Holidays.” Whether the hero of those adventures is the same as he who is pictured in the work I present to my readers I know not. In all probability the taste for practical joking which flourished so vigorously in the holiday scenes began, as we see, in the nursery. Master Jackey has been to the play, where he has witnessed the performances of a contortionist, and, emulous of rivalling the professor, he perils the limbs and lives of his brothers and sisters in his operations. We know of the tendency to imitate in all children, but when the propensity shows itself in the imitation of tricks that require long practice before they can be performed with safety, the game, though amusing to the players, may be very dangerous to the played upon. It is to be hoped that the rush of the terrified mother in this capital scene may be in time to save the baby from a perilous fall. The little brothers have already tasted the consequence of Master Jackey’s imitation.
The accompanying drawing was suggested by myself during an after-dinner conversation at a friend’s house. The talk had turned on the difficulty that the pronunciation of certain words would prove to one who had dined not wisely but too well, when it occurred to me that “Plesiosaurus” or “Ichthyosaurus” would be troublesome, and I said so. Leech smiled, and said nothing, but in Punch of the week following his idea of the difficulty appeared.
| “Recreations in Natural History.” |
First Naturalist: “What, the s-s-she-sherpent a-an (hic!) Ich-(hic!)-thyosaurus! Nonshence!”
Second Naturalist: “Who said Ich-(hic!)-Ichthy-o-saurus? I said Plesi-o-(hic!)-saurus plainenuff.”
The cabman who doesn’t know his way about London is exceptional, but he is met with occasionally, and very provoking he is; but to have his little trap-door knocked off its hinges because he takes a wrong turning is a punishment in excess of his fault. The young gentleman passenger is of an impatient turn, and he will find that his impatience will have to be paid for unless the cabman is more good-natured than he looks.
| “Cabman is supposed to have taken a Wrong Turning, that’s all.” |
Flunkeiana cannot be omitted in this short summary of Leech’s work, more especially as the first of a long series is one of the best. Nothing can be conceived more perfect than the man and the maid at the seaside—the girl, French from top to toe; the flunkey, a most perfect type of the class.
French Maid: “You like—a—ze—seaside—M’sieu Jean Thomas?”