Punch, or The London Charivari | Page 9

my grave, Blooming
Hyson sprigs may wave; And some stately sugar-cane, There may
spring to life again: Bright-eyed maidens then may meet, To quaff the
herb and suck the sweet.
* * * * *

A CONVERSATION BETWEEN TWO HACKNEY-COACH
HORSES.
KINDLY COMMUNICATED BY OUR DOG "TOBY."
DEAR SIR,--I was a-sitting the other evening at the door of my kennel,
thinking of the dog-days and smoking my pipe (blessings on you,
master, for teaching me that art!), when one of your prospectuses was
put into my paw by a spaniel that lives as pet-dog in a nobleman's
family. Lawk, sir! what misfortunes can have befallen you, that you are
obleeged to turn author?
I remember the poor devil as used to supply us with _dialect_--what a
face he had! It was like a mouth-organ turned edgeways; and he looked
as hollow as the big drum, but warn't half so round and noisy. You can't
have dwindled down to that, sure_ly_! I couldn't bear to see your hump
and pars pendula (that's dog Latin) shrunk up like dried almonds, and
titivated out in msty-fusty toggery--I'm sure I couldn't! The very
thought of it is like a pound weight at the end of my tail.
I whined like any thing, calling to my missus--for you must know that
I've married as handsome a Scotch terrier as you ever see. "Vixen,"
says I, "here's the poor old governor up at last--I knew that Police Act
would drive him to something desperate."
"Why he hasn't hung himself in earnest, and summoned you on his
inquest!" exclaimed Mrs. T.
"Worse nor that," says I; "he's turned author, and in course is stewed up
in some wery elevated apartment during this blessed season of the year,
when all nature is wagging with delight, and the fairs is on, and the
police don't want nothing to do to warm 'em, and consequentially sees
no harm in a muster of infantry in bye-streets. It's very hawful."
Vixen sighed and scratched her ear with her right leg, so I know'd she'd
something in her head, for she always does that when anything tickles
her. "Toby," says she, "go and see the old gentleman; perhaps it might
comfort him to larrup you a little."
"Very well," says I, "I'll be off at once; so put me by a bone or two for
supper, should any come out while I'm gone; and if you can get the
puppies to sleep before I return, I shall be so much obleeged to you."
Saying which, I toddled off for Wellington-street. I had just got to the
coach-stand at Hyde Park Corner, when who should I see labelled as a
waterman but the one-eyed chap we once had as a orchestra--he as

could only play "Jim Crow" and the "Soldier Tired." Thinks I, I may as
well pass the compliment of the day with him; so I creeps under the
hackney-coach he was standing alongside on, intending to surprise him;
but just as I was about to pop out he ran off the stand to un-nosebag a
cab-horse. Whilst I was waiting for him to come back, I hears the
off-side horse in the wehicle make the following remark:--
OFF-SIDE HORSE--(_twisting his tail about like anything_)--Curse
the flies!
NEAR-SIDE HORSE.--You may say that. I've had one fellow tickling
me this half-hour.
OFF-SIDE HORSE.--Ours is a horrid profession! Phew! the sun
actually penetrates my vertebra.
NEAR-SIDE HORSE.--Werterbee! What's that?
OFF-SIDE HORSE--(_impatiently_).--The spine, my friend (_whish!
whish!_)
NEAR-SIDE HORSE.--Ah! it is a shameful thing to dock us as they
does. If the marrow in one's backbone should melt, it would be sartin to
run out at the tip of one's tail. I say, how's your _feed?_
OFF-SIDE HORSE.--Very indifferent--the chaff
predominates--(_munch_) not bene by any means.
NEAR-SIDE HORSE.--Beany! Lord bless your ignorance! I should be
satisfied if they'd only make it oaty now and then. How long have you
been in the hackney line?
OFF-SIDE HORSE.--I have occupied my present degraded position
about two years. Little thought my poor mama, when I was foaled, that
I should ever come to this.
NEAR-SIDE HORSE.--Ah! it ain't very respectable, is it?--especially
since the cabs and busses have druv over our heads. What was you put
to?--you look as if you had been well brought up.
OFF-SIDE HORSE.--My mama was own sister to _Lottery_, but
unfortunately married a horse much below her in pedigree. I was the
produce of that union. At five years old I entered the army under
Ensign Dashard.
NEAR-SIDE HORSE--Bless me, how odd! I was bought at Horncastle,
to serve in the dragoons; but the wetternary man found out I'd a splint,
and wouldn't have me! I say, ain't that stout woman with a fat family
looking at us?

OFF-SIDE HORSE.--I'm afraid she is. People of her grade