PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR

Edited by J. A. Hammerton

Designed to provide in a series of volumes, each complete in itself, the cream of our national humour, contributed by the masters of comic draughtsmanship and the leading wits of the age to "Punch," from its beginning in 1841 to the present day

MR. PUNCH AT HOME

A note at the foot of a page

A First Essay in Housekeeping.—Mr. Jones. "What is it, my pet?" Mrs. J. "This rabbit (sob)—I've been plucking it—(sob)—all the afternoon, and it isn't half done yet!"

MR. PUNCH AT
HOME

THE COMIC SIDE
OF DOMESTIC
LIFE

AS PICTURED BY

F. H. TOWNSEND, LEWIS BAUMER, C. SHEPPERSON, FRED PEGRAM, GUNNING KING, L. RAVENHILL, BERNARD PARTRIDGE, A. W. MILLS, G. L. STAMPA, C. E. BROCK, A. S. BOYD, PHIL MAY, CHARLES KEENE, GEORGE DU MAURIER, AND OTHERS

WITH 130 ILLUSTRATIONS

PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH
THE PROPRIETORS OF "PUNCH"

THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD.

The Punch Library of Humour

Twenty-five volumes, crown 8vo, 192 pages
fully illustrated

[IN SLIPPERED EASE]

Just because Mr. Punch is eminently representative of all our national characteristics is he something of a good old-fashioned Philistine in his domestic circle. We find him, in his notions of home life, distinctly partial to the cosy comfort that is associated the world over with "The Englishman's Castle." He enjoys the delights of his own fireside, the pleasures of his table, the society of his womenkind, the casual visits of his friends, no less, and perhaps much more, than the formal functions to which the phrase "At Home" is also applied.

"Mr. Punch at Home" is in a sense the complement of "Mr. Punch in Society." It touches on musical evenings, dances, the social life generally, but more particularly the domestic side of it—the servant difficulty, the humours of the kitchen and the butler's pantry. It gives glimpses of home life in the country as well as in town; among the poor as well as among the rich; in flats and lodgings as well as in suburban villas and the mansions of the West End.

John Leech dealt largely with the servant girl trouble, but as many of his jokes were topical and have lost most of their point with the passing of the topic, and as others have an old-fashioned air with them and are not so smart or so pointed as those by later artists, preference has been given to the moderns.

MR. PUNCH AT HOME

Things One would rather have left Unsaid.—"You remember that party at Madam Gelasma's, to hear Joachim, Rubinstein, and the Henschels, and De Soria—quite a small party?"

"No; I wasn't there!" "No? Ah—well—it was very select!"

The Greatest Question of the Day.—"My dear, what will you have for dinner?"

Our Whist Party.—Major MacFlush (at close of rubber, to partner). Didn't ye see me call for trumps?

Partner (a new hand). You may have called, Major, but I never heard you!

Undesirable Bric-a-brac.—Family jars.

Mem. for Young Housewives.—To make both ends meet—burn the candle at 'em.

"Pleasant it is when the woods are green," as paterfamilias observed when all the doors in his new villa took to warping.

The Dear Things.—He. You know Jones's wife, an old schoolfellow of yours; tell me, is she musical?

She (her dearest friend). I should say decidedly not, or she wouldn't be so fond of hearing the sound of her own voice.

The Kitchen-Range-finder.—The policeman!

Motto for the Lady of the House.—Don't worry about trifles; make a blanc-mange.

Visitor. "Do you have any difficulty in getting servants?"

Hostess. "None whatever. We've had ten different ones in the last month!"

Domestic Economy.—Cook. "Wasteful, mum? Well, mum, that's one thing I'm not! Why, everythink in the eatin' an' drinkin' way that comes down from hupstairs, I make a point of finishin' up myself, mum!"

WANTED!

The Lady and Gentleman Help Association can find excellent positions for—

A Lady Help with twenty thousand a year, who can help her husband to enjoy existence.

A Lady Help with deft fingers, who can open oysters, peel walnuts and prawns, and make toast.

A Lady Help who can draft a speech that will suit an ex-Secretary of State at a Social Science Congress.

A Lady Help who can do the same for a mild and moderate Bishop at a Church Congress—extra wages will be given for assistance in the composition of charges.

A Lady Help who can drive Four-in-Hand, for a coach to be started from Hatchett's Hotel to Coventry.

A Lady Help who is absolutely helpless—none need apply unless they can show that they are good for nothing.

Also—

A Gentleman Help who can nurse babies, and comb their hair carefully.

The Compensating Circumstance.—Sympathetic Visitor. "Poor dear Mr. Smith, how he must suffer with all that sneezing and coughing." Mrs. Smith. "He does, indeed; but you can't think how it amuses the baby!"

A Gentleman Help who can choose good cigars, and assist in smoking them.

A Gentleman Help who can work a sewing machine and a private apparatus for the distillation of whiskey.

A Gentleman Help who can assist the Sultan of Turkey to pay the interest on his debts.

A Gentleman Help who can help the clerk of the weather to turn on a little more sunshine.

At the Smithson's Dance.—Young Innocent. "I beg your pardon, did I tread on your foot that time?"

Sweet Girl (very sweetly). "Oh, no, not that time!"

"Mary, there's three months' dust in the drawing-room!"

"That isn't my fault, mum. You know I've only bin here a fortnight!"

"You're dreadfully untidy again, Mary! I don't know what the baker will think of you when he comes."
"The baker don't matter, 'm. The milkman's bin!"

Doctor (to Mrs. Perkins, whose husband is ill). "Has he had any lucid intervals?"

Mrs. Perkins (with dignity). "'E's 'ad nothink except what you ordered, Doctor!"

T'other Way Round.—He. "That's Lady Passeh. She's got an action on at the courts, asking for £5,000 damages." She. "Damages! I should have thought she'd have asked for repairs."

The Eye as an Aid to the Ear.—Young Lady (repeating conversation to deaf old gentleman). "Miss Frills says it gave her such a fright." Deaf Old Gent. "Eh? I didn't quite—" Young Lady. "Such—a—fright!" Deaf Old Gent. "Ah, yes—I agree with you—so she is!"

Why, Naturally.—"Cook, ought I to write Salvation Army in converted commas?"

Orthodox.—The Rev. Alexis Tonsher (going round his new parish). "Of course, you observe Lent, Mrs. Rickyard?"

Mrs. Rickyard. "Oh, yes, sir, we allus hev pancakes o' Shrove Tuesday!"

An Excuse.—Mistress. "Another breakage, Jane? And a wedding present, too! How ever did you do it?"

Jane (sobbing). "They al—ways break—when I—drop 'em!"

Appreciative.—Amateur Tenor. "I shall just sing one more song, and then I shall go."

Sarcastic Friend. "Couldn't you go first!"

"Entering the Social Circle."—Making the first cut into a round of beef.

He. "What pretty hair that Miss Dashwood has—like spun gold!"

She (her rival). "Yes—fourteen carrot."

Mabel. "We always do this when mater's out, uncle. Saves all the bother of talking. Ripping idea, isn't it?"

A CHEERFUL PROSPECT

General Blaxer. "Ah, partner, do you—er—discard from—er—strength or weakness?" Mr. Mildman. "Er—er—generally from fright!"

The Mere Man. "I—er—leave it to you." His Partner. "Coward!"

Things One would rather have left Unsaid.—Tomlinson. "Good-bye, Miss Eleanora——"

Miss Eleanora. "But you've already said good-bye to me, Mr. Tomlinson?"

Tomlinson (who is always ready with some pretty speech). "Have I, really? Well, one can't do a pleasant thing too often, you know!"

Feline Amenities.—Fair Hostess (who is proud of her popularity). "Yes; I flatter myself there's not a door-bell in the whole street that's so often rung as mine!"

Fair Visitor. "Well, dear, I had to ring it five times!"

Bachelor Housekeeping.—Mr. Brown. "Pray, Jane, what on earth is the reason I am kept waiting for my breakfast in this way?"

Jane. "Please, sir, the rolls isn't come, and there's no bread in the house!"

Mr. Brown. "Now, upon my word! How can you annoy me with such trifles? No bread? then bring me some toast."

[Exit Jane in dismay.

Social Insincerities.—His Lordship (vociferously, with the rest). "Brava! Encore! Go on! I could listen all night!" (Aside, to footman). "Just see if my carriage is come. Look sharp!"

HOUSEHOLD RECIPES.

To destroy black-beetles.—Turn a pack of fox-hounds into the kitchen.

To cure smoky chimneys.—Discontinue fires.

To get rid of ghosts.—Use disinfecting fluid copiously.

To expel dry-rot.—Soak the places affected with the finest dry sherry.

To get the servants up early in the morning.—Send them to bed early at night.

To revive the fire.—Tie up the front-door knocker in a white kid glove.

To prevent the beer going too fast.—Possess the key to the mystery.

To avoid draughts.—Don't take any.

To destroy moths.—Collect butterflies.

How to keep plate clean.-Wrap it up in silver paper.

How to dispose of old newspapers.—Put them into the brown study.

The Most Continuous Break We Know. Our housemaid's.

The Duchess (who takes a great interest in all her servants, and has a large house-party). "Oh, so you're the new scullery maid. I hope you like your place?" New Scullery Maid. "No, my lady. I want to leave next week. I can't stand these late dinners. All the ladies as I've ever been connected with have just took a bit of something in their 'ands, and there wasn't all this washing up!"

Latin at the Bridge Table.—Sursum-corda—"I double hearts."

Stirring Event.—Mixing a plum-pudding.

Sentiment for the Servants' Hall.—May we never smell any powder but what is white!

Good Knife for Fruit.—"Le Sabre de mon Pear."

Kitchen Dressers.—Fine cooks.

Self-Respect.—Cook (to fellow-servant who has been after a new place). "Well, 'Liza, will it suit?"

Eliza. "Not if I knows it! Why, when I got there, blest if there wasn't the two young ladies of the 'ouse both a-usin' of one piano at the same time! 'Well,' thinks I, 'this his a comin' down in the world!' So I thought I was best say good mornin'!"

The Back-door Bell.—A pretty kitchen maid.

Prize Idiot (who doesn't know all the family). "Beastly slow here. I'm off. Which way do you go home?" Son of the House. "I'm there now."

Not so Bad as They Seem.—Mistresses show more consideration for their servants than is generally supposed. Not long ago Mrs. Fidgitt was heard telling Mary Ann that she had been scouring the whole house for her.

How We Arrange our Little Dinners.—

Mistress. "Oh, cook, we shall want dinner for four this evening. What do you think, besides the joint, of ox-tail-soup, lobster patés, and an entrée—say, beef?"

Cook. "Yes,'m—Fresh, or Austr——?"

Mistress. "Let's see? It's only the Browns—tinned will do!"

Motto for a Servants' Hall.—"They also serve who only stand and wait."—Milton.

"Cook's" Excursionist.—Her policeman on a trip.

Sweet Simplicity.—Visitor. "Jane, has your mistress got a boot-jack?"

Maid-of-all-work. "No, sir; please, sir, I clean all the boots, sir!"

Before the Reception.—Lady of the House (instructing new page). "Have you ever been at a party before, Riggles?" Riggles. "Honly as a guest, mum."

Sympathetic.—Young Wife (rather nervously). "Oh, cook, I must really speak to you. Your master is always complaining. One day it is the soup, the second day it is the fish, the third day it is the joint—in fact, it is always something or other." Cook (with feeling). "Well, mum, I'm truly sorry for you. It must be quite hawful to live with a gentleman of that sort."

Mary (the new housemaid who visits the study for the first time, and is unaware that poor Snooks is suffering from a violent headache and has been ordered to keep a damp cloth round his head and wear goggles). "Lawk-a-mussy!" Mrs. Snooks (appearing at door). "What's the matter, Mary? It's only master!"

Everything Comes to the Man who Waits.—Country Rector's Wife (engaging manservant). And can you wait at dinner?

Man. Aw, yes, mum; I'm never that hoongry but I can wait till you've done.

Unconsciously Appropriate.—Jane. 'Allo, Hemma, what are yer a-crying about?

Hemma. Missus 'as given me the sack because I knocked over some of them hornaments she calls "break-a-break."

Gentleman (to Thomas, who has given notice). "Oh, certainly! You can go, of course; but, as you have been with me for nine years, I should like to know the reason?"

Thomas. "Why, sir, it's my feelins. You used always to read prayers, sir, yourself—and since Miss Wilkins has bin here, she bin a-reading of 'em. Now I can't bemean myself by sayin 'Amen' to a guv'ness."

The Force of Habit.—Our coachman, when he waits at table, always commits the same fault: he whips away the plates too soon.

A Good Start.—New Maid Servant (just arrived). "May I harsk if my young man 'as called yet?"

FEMININE AMENITIES

Mabel (not in her first youth). "First of all he held my hand and told my fortune; and then, Evie, he gazed into my face ever so long, and said he could read my thoughts! Wasn't that clever of him, dear?"

Evie. "Oh, I suppose he read between the lines, darling."

New Version.—It was the reflection of a thoughtful hall-porter that the self-denying man must be the man who says he is not at home when he is.

A Discharge without a Report.—A servant dismissed without a character.

Diagnosis.—"Is the rector better to-day, Jarvis?"—"No, sir; not any better, sir!"

"Has he got a locum tenens?"—"No, sir. Same old pain in the back!"

Hostess. "And do you really believe in christian science?"

Visitor. "Well, you see, I've been getting rather stouter lately, and it's such a comfort to know that I really have no body!"

BELGRAVIAN MAXIMS

BY A FASHIONABLE VALET.

The real essence of a gentleman is perfume.

You know the snob by his hands—the gentleman by his boots.

It is easier to pardon a hole in a person's manners than one in his coat.

In the noblest park there are mushrooms.

One grows rich, but one is born elegant.

With men, as with monuments, position is everything.

We make our money in London, but we spend it in Paris.

Society has but little faith, except in scandal.

Joke with an inferior, and you tumble to the level of that inferior.

There are many stylish men, but very few men of style.

Shopkeepers are the counters in the game of life. When we have no ready money, we are only too glad to use them.

A lady is an angel that ought never to touch the earth, excepting when she is stepping from the door to her carriage.

A Ju-Jitsuous Hint—Fair Victim. "Pardon, Mr. Snobbarts, this is a waltz, I believe, not a bout of ju-jitsu!"

Anything that reveals a compromise with one's pocket is inelegant, as for instance, Berlin gloves. In my opinion, naked-handed poverty is a thousand times preferable.

You can generally tell "a son of the soil" by the amount he carries in his nails.

England gives us meat, and France sends us cooks.

The gentleman is known at once by his walk, the lady by her carriage.

Credit is the homage that trade pays (and sometimes pays very dearly) to rank.

Not so Bad as Volodyovski.—Lady (to applicant for nursemaid's place). What is your name?

Applicant. Hermyntrude, mum.

Lady. Good heavens! That would never do. Can't you think of something shorter?

Applicant (after a pause). Well, mum, my young man allus calls me Carrots.

Simple Fractures.—Servants' breakages.

"Ah, mum; I'm a 'eap better in my 'eart since last time you come 'ere a-districk visitin'. It's all along o' thisher little book 'Hernest Words to the Young' as I pinched outside a bookshop wen the propperrieter was a-lookin' the other way. A power o' good it 'ave done me!"

The Beau Ideal of a Cook.—One who cooks a rabbit to a hare!

A Servant on Spiritualism.—It is fortunate that rapping spirits, which seem very tricksy beings, do not seem to be able to move street-knockers. Otherwise we should continually be going to answer a rap at the door, and coming back, saying, "Please'm only a ghost."