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 IN SOCIETY
He. “By the bye, talking of old times, do you remember that occasion when I made such an awful ass of myself?”
MR. PUNCH
IN SOCIETY
BEING THE HUMOURS OF
SOCIAL LIFE
WITH 133
ILLUSTRATIONS
BY
GEORGE DU MAURIER,
CHARLES KEENE, PHIL
MAY, L. RAVEN-HILL,
C. E. BROCK, J. BERNARD
PARTRIDGE, A. S. BOYD,
REGINALD CLEAVER,
LEWIS BAUMER, F.
H. TOWNSEND AND
OTHERS
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
LIFE IN LONDON
COUNTRY LIFE
IN THE HIGHLANDS
SCOTTISH HUMOUR
IRISH HUMOUR
COCKNEY HUMOUR
IN SOCIETY
AFTER DINNER STORIES
IN BOHEMIA
AT THE PLAY
MR. PUNCH AT HOME
ON THE CONTINONG
RAILWAY BOOK
AT THE SEASIDE
MR. PUNCH AFLOAT
IN THE HUNTING FIELD
MR. PUNCH ON TOUR
WITH ROD AND GUN
MR. PUNCH AWHEEL
BOOK OF SPORTS
GOLF STORIES
IN WIG AND GOWN
ON THE WARPATH
BOOK OF LOVE
WITH THE CHILDREN
INTRODUCTION
It would be difficult to think of Mr. Punch’s prototype of the immortal drama as “in Society”; but, however much our national jester may resemble in facial detail the somewhat rude and impulsive character from whom he took his name, he is in all his instincts a gentleman. In other words, it is just here that Punch has differed from most comic journals, being, if not absolutely from the first number, certainly from its early days, distinguished for refinement of taste and good manners, not less than for its wit and humour. “Mr. Punch in Society” is indeed Mr. Punch in his most congenial surroundings, as he has been above all else the untiring, irrepressible satirist of the social world.
If an analysis were made of all the drawings which have appeared in Punch from 1841 to the present day, we venture to think that those devoted to Society’s ways, its foibles, its follies, would greatly outnumber the illustrations of any other phase of life. And was not the entire career of one of Mr. Punch’s most celebrated artists devoted exclusively to social satire? The name of George du Maurier is pre-eminent in the history of modern humorous art. To an unerring instinct for character, shrewd but never unkindly satire, he united a profound sense of beauty which made his work unique and individual. It was thus that to a vast public, of which only a very small proportion could be expected to possess any art culture, Du Maurier’s work appealed with irresistible force, his charming lightness of touch, his gaiety, which came no doubt from his Gallic origins, rendering everything from his pencil a source of delight to the general public, no less than to the students of draughtsmanship.
Du Maurier’s connection with Punch began in 1860 and his earliest work displayed very little of that wonderful grace to which it attained before many years had passed, but Mr. Henry James, discussing his art so long ago as 1883, said that “since 1868, Punch has been, artistically speaking, George du Maurier,” an opinion which would certainly be accepted in America, where for a generation the cultured classes looked to Du Maurier, as Mr. Spielman reminds us, “almost exclusively, not only for English fashions in male and female attire, the dernière mode in social etiquette, but for the truest reflection of English life and character.”
When we consider that almost exclusively in the pages of Mr. Punch is the artistic life-work of Du Maurier contained, we shall see how inexhaustible a treasury is there to be drawn upon for such a collection as the present. We have thought it wise, however, not to limit “Mr. Punch in Society” to the work of any one humorist, but have sought to present a collection of Du Maurier’s best social satires in company with those of many other artists who, in their individual ways, have also depicted the humours of social life.
MR. PUNCH IN SOCIETY
A SEASONABLE LETTER
Huntingthorpe Hall.
My Dear Jack,—I want you to come down on Monday and stay a couple of days with me. My wife will be delighted, as you can help her with a children’s party, and also play Pantaloon in a little thing being got up by the young people. I will mount you on the Tuesday with our Stag hounds, as I know you are fond of a day’s hunting. No, don’t thank me, my dear chap—I shall be only too glad if you will go, as the horse I am intending to put you on is a rank brute, and when he doesn’t refuse his fences—which is a rare occurrence—he invariably falls into them. However, you won’t mind that, will you?
You will have to put up with real bachelor accommodation, I am afraid, as the house is crammed. The best I can do for you is a half share of one of the attics. Our cook has left us, all unexpectedly, so this places her room at our disposal for two of you. The kitchen-maid is doing her best to keep us from starving; but, though she means well, I can hardly class her as a cordon bleu.
Louise Dearlove, that pretty little girl you were so sweet upon last season, is unable to come; but her brother—the red-headed youth who was always trying to pick a quarrel with you—will be here.
I am so short of horses that I fear I must ask you to cab the four miles up from the station; but I am sure you won’t mind taking the rough with the smooth.
Yours ever,
John Jostler.
As the recipient of the above invitation, I ask which is “the smooth”?
WHAT THE DANCING MAN HAS COME TO
“Not dancing any more to-night, Fred?”
“No; and, what’s more, I’ll never put my foot in this house again! Why, I’ve been introduced three times!”
THE TERRORS OF SOCIAL LIFE
Stout Lady (at a charity ball). “Excuse me, Lady Godolphin, but I should so like to make some notes of your charming costume—may I?”
Lady Godolphin. “Pardon me, but really I’m afraid I haven’t the pleasure of——”
Stout Lady. “Oh, I’m sure you won’t mind: I’m ‘Girlie,’ you know—I do the fashion article for Classy Bits!”
Club Attendant (to stout party, who is struggling into overcoat). “Allow me, sir.”
Stout Party. “No, don’t trouble! This is the only exercise I ever take!”
ENGLISH AS SHE IS SPOKE!!
Future Duke. “What are you goin’ to do this mornin’ eh?”
Future Earl. “Oh, I dunno. Rot about, I s’pose, as usual.”
Future Duke. “Oh, but I say, that’s so rotten.”
Future Earl. “Well, what else is there to do, you rotter?”
THE “BOOK TEA”
Scene—The Drawing-rooms of No. 1 and No. 2, Upperten Mansions, S.W.
First Lady (entering). Here I am! I am sure you won’t guess who I am. See, the American Banner and the Union Jack. I represent “Under Two Flags.”
First Hostess. Oh, how clever! But we shall have Mr. Smith here presently, and he is sure to come in something quite new.
Second Lady (entering). Here I am. Now you will never know what book I represent. Stars and stripes on one shoulder, the white ensign on the other! “Under Two Flags.” Eh?
First Hostess. Wonderful! We shall have Mr. Smith here by and by. He is sure to amuse us.
Third Lady (entering). I promised to come and here I am. The Star Spangled Banner and our own Royal Standard. “Under Two Flags.” There, isn’t it good?
First Hostess. Quite too good! So pleased you have come. We are waiting for Mr. Smith. He’s sure to make us all laugh, as he’s so original!
Fourth Lady. Up to my time! And I have come as a well-known book. See, a dear little American banner on one side of my head, and a weeny, weeny Union Jack on the other. “Under Two Flags.” I thought I would surprise you!
First Hostess. I knew you would. Mr. Smith is coming! He’s sure to be funny.
Mr. Smith (entering). Now you must guess. I won’t take off my cloak until I have shown you these two dolls. Here they are, soldiers of the time of Louis XIV. And now you shall see me. (Throws off his cloak and appears in gorgeous costume.) I represent, with the help of my companions, “The Three Musketeers.”
Second Hostess (rigidly). I think there is some mistake. This is a meeting of the Distressed Charwomen’s Food Fund Association. I think you must have wanted to attend my neighbour next door’s Book Tea.
Mr. Smith (hastily resuming his cloak). Oh, I beg your pardon.
[Exit in confusion.
DISADVANTAGE OF RESEMBLING A CELEBRITY
She. “Oh, how do you do, dear Mr. Lyon. Have you forgiven me for cutting you at Mrs. Leo Hunter’s last night? I was actually stupid enough to take you for that horrid bore, Mr. Tetterby Thompson, whom you’re said to be so like. It’s a horrid libel—you’re not like him a bit.”
He. “A—a—I wasn’t at Mrs. Leo Hunter’s last night—a—a—a—and my name is Tetterby Thompson!”
SPEECHES TO BE LIVED DOWN—IF POSSIBLE
Digby. “I had hoped for the pleasure of taking you down to supper, Mrs. Masham!”
Rigby. “Too late, my dear fellow! It’s the early bird that catches the worm!”
SPEECHES TO BE LIVED DOWN—IF POSSIBLE
Mr. Marsh. “I’ve just had quite a long chat with your three charming little girls, Mrs. Roope.”
Mrs. Roope. “Not mine, Mr. Marsh. I have no children.”
Mr. Marsh (very surprised). “No chil—— Are you sure?”
THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID
I
THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID
I
Enter Mr. Chesterfield Grandison Potts. “How d’ye do, my dear Mrs. Pettifer? I’ve come to congratulate you on your performance of the Lady of Lyons, at Mrs. Tomkyns’s. It was simply perfect!”
Distinguished Lady Amateur. “Oh, far from perfect, I fear! To be perfect, alas! the part of Pauline requires that one should be young and lovely, you know!”
Mr. C. G. Potts (who piques himself on his old-fashioned courtesy). “My dear lady, you are a living proof to the contrary!”
II
“Oh, how d’ye do, Sir Bruin? And so you’re leaving England for good, and we shall never see you again!”
“Nothing of the kind! Who says so?”
“Oh, I saw it in one of the papers. But the papers don’t always tell the truth, I’m sorry to say!”
III
Enthusiastic Lady Visitor (at winter health resort). “What a delightful place this is, Professor. And the baths, how perfect! I could bathe all day—couldn’t you?”
The Professor. “Well, you see, I’m a resident, and that makes a difference!”
Lady Visitor. “Ah! to be sure. I suppose you never even think of taking a bath!”
IV
Love-lorn Middy (about to join his ship). “I’ve come to say good-bye, Amy!”
Cousin Amy. “Good-bye, Johnny. When we see you next, I hope you’ll be an Admiral!”
V
“I was so sorry not to be at home when you called, Mr. Binks!”
“Oh, pray don’t mention it! It didn’t matter in the least, I can assure you!”
VI
Hostess. “What, must you go already, Professor?”
The Professor. “My dear madam, there is a limit even to my capacity of inflicting myself on my friends!”
Hostess. “Oh no—not at all—I assure you!”
VII
Miss Bugge. “Oh, but mine is such a horrid name!”
Young Brown. “Ah—a—um—I’m afraid it’s too late to alter it now!”
VIII
Deaf Old Gentleman. “The conversation seems very amusing, my dear. What is it all about?
Hostess (fortissimo). “When they say anything worth repeating, grandpapa, I’ll tell you!”
IX
She. “No! I can’t give you another dance. But I’ll introduce you to the prettiest girl in the room!”
He. “But I don’t want to dance with the prettiest girl in the room. I want to dance with you!”
X
He. “Everybody will be leaving Town now that Parliament is dissolved.”
She. “Yes. Indeed I think all the nice people have left already!”
XI
Jones (under the impression that he is making himself agreeable). “I don’t care a bit for a pretty woman, myself! They have no conversation. I like a plain woman, who has plenty to say for herself!”
XII
(Dinner has just been announced)
Hester and Billy (sadly). “Good night, sir. We’ve got to go to bed.”
Distinguished Professor (who is taking down the Hostess). “Ah, my dears, that’s where we’re all wishing we were!”
XIII
Nervous Person (speaking at last to his Neighbour). “Do you know who that remarkably ugly person is just opposite—talking to the black-haired lady, you know—um—eh?”
Neighbour. “That, sir, is my brother!”
Nervous Person. “Yes? I—I—I beg your pardon—I—I—Stupid of me not to have seen the family likeness—a—a—a——”
[Collapses and disappears.
XIV
The Professor. “How singularly you and your brother resemble each other, Miss Angelina!”
Miss Angelina. “Is that a compliment to my brother, or a compliment to me?”
The Professor. “Oh, a compliment to neither, I assure you!”
XV
He. “What a pretty fan!”
She. “Yes; I had it given to me when I first came out!”
He. “Really! It has worn well!”
XVI
Servant. “Lady Glitter’s carriage!”
Son of the House (tenderly, as he hands her Ladyship out). “Ah! I’ve been waiting for this moment all the evening!”
XVII
Caller. “Only fancy, Mrs. Dowderley, I was very nearly calling on your neighbour, Lady Masham, whose day at home it is too! when I suddenly remembered I wasn’t dressed for paying calls!”
XVIII
Hostess. “What, leaving already, Mr. Mivers! I’ve scarcely seen anything of you the whole evening!”
Mr. Mivers (who goes in for the Courteous Manners of the Olden Time). “That, madam, is entirely my fault!”
[Exit gracefully, but remembers as he goes downstairs that he meant to say “misfortune,” not “fault.”
THINGS ONE MIGHT HAVE EXPRESSED OTHERWISE
I
Visitor (who has accepted an invitation to a local concert). “Is it evening dress?”
Hostess. “Oh, no; just as you are dressed now—or worse, if you have it.”
II
Lady Guest (to Host, who hates getting up early). “I’m so awfully sorry to have dragged you up at this unearthly hour, but I had to catch the 8.30 train.”
Host. “Not at all. I’m only too glad to be able to see you off!”
III
Host. “Take a little whiskey before you go, Jones?”
Jones (after helping himself). “Thanks! May I pour you out some?”
Host. “Please—not too much—just about half what you’ve given yourself!”
IV
Gushing Lady. “Oh but, Mr. Jones, I should love to be beautiful—even if for only half-an-hour!”
Jones. “Yes; but you wouldn’t like the coming back again!”
V
He. “I suppose, now that the London Season is coming to an end, that you’ve been very gay?”
She. “Oh, yes—I haven’t had a dull moment since I saw you last!”
VI
Fair Hostess. “Good-night, Major Jones; we’re supposed to breakfast at nine; but we’re not very punctual people. Indeed, the later you appear to-morrow morning, the better pleased we shall all be!”
VII
The Professor (to Hostess). “Thank you so much for a most delightful evening! I shall indeed go to bed with pleasant recollections,—and you will be the very last person I shall think of!”
VIII
Elderly Party (who fancies herself young). “Ah, Mildred, you and I must one day lose our youth and beauty!”
Mildred. “Oh, you mustn’t be down-hearted. You have worn so wonderfully well!”
IX
Captain Sawney (at a Mi-Carême fancy dress ball, perfectly satisfied that he is saying a happy thing and paying a very great compliment). “Well, you do look delightful! Fascinating! Too charming for words! What an awful pity it is you are not always like that!”
X
Jones (nervously conscious that he is interrupting a pleasant tête-à-tête). “A—I’m sorry to say I’ve been told to take you in to supper, Miss Belsize!”
XI
Hostess. “This is good of you, Major Grey! When I wrote I never expected for a moment that you would come.”
XII
Old Aunt (despondently). “Well, I shall not be a nuisance to you much longer.”
Nephew (reassuringly). “Don’t talk like that, aunt. You know you will!”
XIII
“Well, good-bye, Mr. Green. It was so nice of you to come. It does father such a lot of good to have someone to talk to.”
“I was delighted to come, Miss Brown, but I’m afraid I’m not much of a conversationalist.”
“My dear Mr. Green, don’t let that trouble you. Father’s ideal listener is an absolute idiot, with no conversation whatever, and I know he has enjoyed himself tremendously to-night!”
THE SOCIETY VOICE
[A contemporary complains that most people in Society consider it necessary to address one another in shrill, high-pitched voices.]
You’re pretty, Miss Kitty, and dainty and slim,
And graceful indeed is your mien;
Your eyes are as bright and your ankle as trim
As any the writer has seen.
Your curly brown locks, which invite a caress,
Would make any artist rejoice;
But you’ve one little fault, even I must confess,
And that’s your Society voice.
When I asked you to wed me a fortnight ago
At Mrs. De Jenkynson’s ball,