Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 5

... so many people have asked me for cards that really I ... had the drains thoroughly looked to, and now they're ... delicious, but rather overpowering in a room, I think! &c., &c.
Miss F.B. (with genuine feeling).
Who would imagine one meek-voiced girl could have held her own, in a deafening din! But LOBELIA's scholars discovered soon she'd a dead-sure notion of discipline; For her satin palm had a sting like steel, and the rowdiest rebel respected her, When she'd stretched out six of the hardest lots in the Bible-Class with a Derringer!
Soc. Chat. No, a very dull party, you could move about quite easily in all the rooms, so we ... kicked the whole concern to shivers and ... came on here as soon as we could ... Capital dinner they gave us, too ... &c., &c.
Miss F.B. (_with as much conviction as possible under the circumstances_).
And the silence deepened; no creature stirred in the stagnant hush, and the only sound Was the far-off lumbering jolt, produced by the prairie rolling for leagues around!
Soc. Chat. (crescendo). Oh, an old aunt of mine has gone in for step-dancing--she's had several lessons ... and cut her knees rather badly, y'know, so I put her out to grass ... and now she can sit up and hold a biscuit on her nose ... but she really ought to mix a little grey in her wig!
[_&c. &c., to the distraction of the Unsophisticated Guest, who is getting quite interested in LOBELIA BANGS whom he suddenly discovers, much to his surprise, on horseback._
Miss F.B.
And on we cantered, without a word, in the midday heat, on our swift mustangs. I was only ignorant Cowboy CLEM--but I worshipped bright LOBELIA BANGS!
Soc. Chat. (fortissimo). Not for ages; but last time I met him he was ... in a dreadful state, with the cook down with influenza ... and so I suppose he's married her by this time!
Miss F.B. (excitedly).
But hark! in the distance a weird shrill cry, a kinder mournful, monotonous yelp--
(Further irruption of Society Chatter) ... is it jackal?--bison?--a cry for help?
Soc. Chat. Such a complete rest, you know--so perfectly peaceful! Not a soul to talk to. I love it ... but, to really enjoy a tomato, you must see it dressed ... in the sweetest little sailor suit!
Miss F.B.
My horse was a speck on the pampas' verge, for I dropped the rein in my haste to stoop; Then I pressed my ear to the baking soil--and caught--ah, horror--the Indian whoop!
Soc. Chat. Some say it isn't infectious, but one can't be too careful, and, with children in the house, &c., &c.
Miss F.B.
I rose to my feet with quivering knees, and my face turned white as a fresh-washed towel; I had heard a war-cry I knew too well--'twas the murderous band of Blue-nosed Owl!
Soc. Chat. Nice fellow--I'm very fond of him--so fresh--capital company--met him when I was over there, &c.
Miss F.B.
"What? leave you to face those fiends alone!" she cried, and slid from her horse's back; "Let me die with you--for I love you, CLEM!" Then she gave her steed a resounding smack, And he bounded off; "Now Heaven be praised that my school six-shooter I brought!" said she. "Four barrels I'll keep for the front-rank foes--and the next for you--and the last for me!"
Soc. Chat. Is it a comic piece she's doing, do you know? Don't think so, I can see somebody smiling. Sounds rather like SHAKSPEARE, or DICKENS, or one of those fellahs ... Didn't catch what you said. No Quite impossible to hear oneself speak, isn't it?
Miss F.B.
And ever louder the demons yelled for their pale-faced prey--but I scorned death's pangs, For I deemed it a doom that was half delight to die by the hand of LOBELIA BANGS! Then she whispered low in her dulcet tones, like the crooning coo of a cushat dove! (At the top of her voice). "Forgive me, CLEM, but I could not bear any squaw to torture my own true love!" And she raised the revolver--"crack-crack-crack!"
[_To the infinite chagrin of the Unsophisticated Guest, who is intensely anxious to hear how Miss BANGS and her lover escaped from so unpleasant a dilemma--the remaining cracks of her revolver, together with the two next stanzas, are drowned in a fresh torrent of small-talk--after which he hears Miss F.B. conclude with repressed emotion_:
But the ochre on Blue-nosed Owl was blurred, as his braves concluded their brief harangues; And he dropped a tear on the early bier of our Prairie belle, LOBELIA BANGS!
[_Which of course leaves him in a state of hopeless mystification._
Soc. Chat. Is that the end? Charming! Now we shall be able to talk again! &c., &c.
* * * * *
OFF TO MASHER LAND.
(BY OUR OWN GRANDOLPH.)
(THIRD LETTER.--C.)
[Illustration: Native Amusements--"A Poor House."]
LANDS-CAPE POLITICS.
Haven't time to send you much information this week,