The "Crismiss" Dinner W. M. Thackeray thanks a friend for two geese DEAR (Now for the first time published) 36 ONSLOW SQUARE, December 27, 18— EAR CARTER, — I should be an ungrateful wretch if I didn't tell you that the geese were excellent. The servants polished theirs entirely off; and ours was admired and appreciated by everybody who partook thereof. I carved it, and I need not say some of the best slices of the bosom were appropriated to yours gratefully, W. M. THACKERAY [Here a drawing of geese on a common] HYMN THE FIRST The housewives of a former age You put the Bird to nobler use, Carter! and stuff a Sage with goose. HYMN THE SECOND "Lawk, Miss Anny, Lawk, Miss Minny!" thus cries Gray the cook, "Two such beautiful geese is come! Only come and look! "Lor, how plump and brown they'll be! Lor, how plump and juicy! Well, of hall things I declare I do love a goosey! "Two fat geese, how genteel! Only think of this, miss! Don't they come convenient for the dinner at Crismiss! "One shall be for the Servants' 'All, and one for parlour arter, And I never shall see a goose again, without thinking of Mr. Carter." A Sporting Offer "That I won't," says Mrs. Gray the cook, with her duty, and the best compliments of the season. And the same she hopes nex year. [Here a boy standing on his head, with "Turn over" written beneath] On second thoughts, and in allusion to a painful transaction last year: No, this pun is so dreadfully bad, I think I never can, sir, But when a man sends me A goose and a deuced kind letter, I think I might send him an anser. Well, I will next year, that's all I have to say. Robert Louis Stevenson offers to exchange bodies with Cosmo Monkhouse LA SOLITUDE, HYÈRES, April 24, 1884 EAR MONKHOUSE, If you are in love with DEAR repose, here is your occasion: change with me. I am too blind to read, hence no reading; I am too weak to walk, hence no walking; I am not allowed to speak, hence no talking; but the great simplification has yet to be named; for, if this goes on, I shall soon have nothing to eat—and hence, O Hallelujah! hence no eating. The offer is a fair one: I have not sold myself to the devil, for I could never find him. I am married, but so are you. I sometimes write verses, but so do you! Come! Hic quies! As for the commandments, I have broken them so small that they are the Well-mannered Remorses Take a larger view; what dust of my chambers; you walk upon them, triturate and toothless; and with the Golosh of Philosophy, they shall not bite your heel. True, the tenement is falling. Ay, friend, but yours also. is a year or two? dust in the balance! 'Tis done, behold you Cosmo Stevenson, and me R. L. Monkhouse; you at Hyères, I in London; you rejoicing in the clammiest repose, me proceeding to tear your tabernacle into rags, as I have already so admirably torn my own. My place to which I now introduce you it is yoursis like a London house, high and very narrow; upon the lungs I will not linger; the heart is large enough for a ballroom; the belly greedy and inefficient; the brain stocked with the most damnable explosives, like a dynamiter's den. The whole place is well furnished, though not in a very pure taste; Corinthian much of it; showy and not strong. About your place I shall try to find my way alone, an interesting exploration. Imagine me, as I go to bed, falling over a blood-stained remorse; opening that cupboard in the cerebellum and being welcomed by the spirit of your murdered uncle. I should probably not like your remorses; I wonder if you will like mine; I have a spirited assortment; they whistle in my ear o' nights like a north-easter. I trust yours don't dine with the family; mine are better mannered; you will hear nought of them till 2 a.m., except one, to be sure, that I have made a pet of, but he is small; I keep him in buttons, so as to avoid commentaries; you will like him much - if you like what is genuine. Must we likewise change religions? Mine is a good article, with a trick of stopping; cathedral bell note; ornamental dial; supported by Venus and the Graces; The Pigtail quite a summer-parlour piety. Of yours, since your last, I fear there is little to be said. There is one article I wish to take away with me: my spirits. They suit me. I don't want yours; I like my own; I have had them a long while in bottle. It is my only reservation. – Yours (as you decide), R. L. MONKHOUSE An able-bodied seaman asks his brother to be sure to get him a creature comfort EAR BRO' TOM, This cums hopein to find you DEAR in good helth as it leaves me safe ankord here yesterday at 4 p.m., arter a plesent vyage tolerable short and few squalls. Dear Tom, hopes to find poor old father stout. Am quite out of pigtail. Sights of pigtail at Gravesend but unfortinly not fit for a dogtochor. Dear Tom, Captains boy will bring you this and put pigtail in his pocket when bort. Best in London at the black boy 7 diles where go, ax for best pigtail, pound a pigtail will do. And am short of shirts. Dear Tom, as for shirts onley took 2, whereof 1 is quite wore out and tother most, but don't forget the pigtail as I arnt had here a quid to chor never sins Thursday. Dear Tom as for the shirts your size will do only longer. I liks um long, got one at present, best at Tower hill and cheap, but be pertickler to go to 7 diles for the pigtail, at the black boy and dear Tom ax for a pound of best pigtail and let it be good. Captains boy will put the pigtail in his pocket, he likes pigtail so tie it up. Dear Tom shall The Polite Boys be up about Monday or thereabouts. Not so pertickler for the shirts as the present can be washed, but dont forget the pigtail without fail, so am your lovein brother, P.S.-Dont forget the pigtail. JACK Letter from a young gentleman to his companion recovered from a fit of sickness (From an old Manual) IT gives me the most sincere pleasure to hear that my dear Tommy is recovering his health so rapidly. Had you died it would have been to me a most terrible loss; but it has pleased God to preserve my friend. I will take the first opportunity that offers to call and tell you how valuable your life is to your sincere friend and playfellow. YOUR Answer OUR obliging letter, my dear Billy, is a fresh proof of your friendship and esteem for me. I thank God I am now perfectly recovered. I am in some doubt whether I ought not to consider my late illness as a just punishment for my crime of robbing Mr. Goodman's orchard, breaking his boughs and spoiling his hedges. However I am fully determined that evermore no such complaints shall come against your sincere friend and playfellow. |