Mr. Punch's After-Dinner Stories Part 1

Mr. Punch's After-Dinner Stories.

edited by J. M. Hammerton.

POST-PRANDIAL WIT

[Ill.u.s.tration]

There is a sense, of course, in which everything from the pages of MR.

PUNCH might be regarded as coming into a collection ent.i.tled "After Dinner Stories." All good stories are really for telling after dinner.

Somehow or other one seldom a.s.sociates wit and humour with the breakfast table, although the celebrated breakfast parties of Rogers, the banker, were doubtless in no way deficient in either. Over the walnuts and wine, when men have feasted well and are feeling on the best of terms with themselves and their fellows, the cares of the day put past and the pleasures of the gas-lit hours begun, that is undoubtedly the ideal time for the flow of wit.

It must not, therefore, be thought that the present volume is in anywise distinguished from the others of the series to which it belongs in the appropriateness of its contents for the dinner party. No more than any of its companions is it designed to that end; but as it is concerned almost exclusively with the humours of dining, with stories of diners, it will be admitted that its t.i.tle is not without justification. Private dinner parties, public banquets, the solitary dinner at the restaurant, the giving and accepting of invitations, these and many other phases of dining come within its scope, and if it be noticed that a considerable amount of its humour has something of the fragrance of good old port--to say nothing of the aroma of wines that are bad!--it can only be retorted that MR. PUNCH'S duty has ever been to mirror the manners of the changing time, and in his early days the wine flowed more freely than it does to-day. For our personal taste we could have wished less of this humour of the bottle, but throughout this library an effort has been made to maintain in some degree a historical perspective, so that, in addition to the prime purpose of entertainment, each of these books in MR. PUNCH'S LIBRARY might be a faithful picture of the manners of the Victorian period in which most of his life has been pa.s.sed. If to-day these manners seem to us just a trifle coa.r.s.er than we esteem the social habits of our own day, surely that is a comforting reflection and one not lightly to be lost!

[Ill.u.s.tration]

MR. PUNCH'S AFTER-DINNER STORIES

[Ill.u.s.tration]

_Mrs. Jones._ And pray, Mr. Jones, what is the matter now?

_Jones._ I was only wondering, my dear, where you might have bought this fish.

_Mrs. Jones._ At the fishmonger's. Where do you suppose I bought it?

_Jones._ Well, I thought that, _perhaps_, there might have been a remnant sale at the Royal Aquarium!

EXCUSE FOR DRINKING BEFORE DINNER.--To whet the appet.i.te.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Voice from above._ "What are you doing down there, Parkins?"

_Parkins._ "I'm jush--puttin' away the port, s.h.i.+r!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Commissionaire._ "Would you like a four-wheeler or a 'ansom sir?" _Convivial Party_ (_indistinctly_). "Ver' mush oblige--but--reely don't think I _could_ take 'ny more!"]

RICE AND PRUNES

Rice and prunes a household journal Called the chief of household boons; Hence my mother cooks diurnal Rice and prunes.

Therefore on successive noons, Sombre fruit and snowy kernel Woo reluctant forks and spoons.

As the ear, when leaves are vernal, Wearies of the blackbird's tunes, So we weary of eternal Rice and prunes.

NEVER SPEAK IN A HURRY

THE HOSPITABLE JONES. Yes, we're in the same old place, where you dined with us last year. By the bye, old man, I wish you and your wife would come and take pot-luck with us again on the----

_The Impulsive Brown (in the eagerness of his determination never again to take pot-luck with the Joneses)._ My _dear_ fellow! _So_ sorry! But we're engaged on the--a--on the--er--on th-th-that evening!

_Poor Jones (pathetically)._ Well, old man, you _might_ have given me time just to _name the day_.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WHO PAYS THE PIPER CALLS THE TUNE"

_Johnnie (to waiter)._ "Aw--you're the boss--head waiter, eh?"

_Waiter._ "Yessir."

_Johnnie._ "Ah, well, just--ah--send up to your _orchestra chaps_, and tell 'em I really can't eat my dinner to _that_ tune."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: A LAST RESOURCE.--A happy and independent bachelor finds himself suddenly disappointed of his Christmas party in the country; he has ordered nothing at home, has given his cook and man-servant leave to invite their friends; his intimate companions are out of town, and, on arriving at his club, he is informed by the hall porter that "there is no dinner to-night, as the servants are having a party." Only one resource, a hotel, or dinner at a restaurant, all alone!]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE VERY LATEST DISCOVERY.--_Amateur Astronomical Student (returning home, after attending scientific bachelor dinner, where "the reported discovery of a new Satellite of Saturn" has been warmly discussed)._ "Where am I? Letsh shee--(_considering_)--Earth's got one moon. Mars's got five moo--Jup'tush nine--I shee two moons. Then--where _am_ I?"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: EFFECT OF GOOD CHEER ON OPPOSITE TEMPERAMENTS

Aspect of Jones and Smith at two different stages of the same sumptuous repast.]

AT THE CELESTIAL RESTAURANT

_Customer (indignantly)._ Hi! waiter, what do you call this soup?

_Waiter (meekly)._ I not know, sir, but ze padrone tell me to describe 'im c.o.c.ks-tail!

"THE COMING MAN."--A waiter.