w Punch coming afore our vindow vith his imperence; I
prognosticated how it voud be, ven the alderman patronised him last veek
by throwing avay a whole shilling upon his fooleries." "You've no taste
for fun, Biddy," replied the alderman; at the same time making his
daughter and myself a substitute for crutches, by resting a hand upon
each shoulder. "I never laid out a shilling better in the whole course
of my life. A good laugh beats all the French medicine, and drives the
gout out at the great toe. I mean to pension Mr. Punch at a shilling a
veek to squeak before my vindow of a Saturday, in preference to paying
six guineas for a ~60~~box to hear all that outlandish squeaking at the
hopera." "La, pa, how ungenteel!" said Miss Biddy; "I declare you're
bringing quite a new-sense to all the square, vat vith your hurdy-gurdy
vonien, French true-baw-dears, and barrel organ-grinders, nobody has no
peace not at all in the neighbourhood." During this elegant colloquy,
the immortal Mr. Punch had reared his chequered theatre upon the
pavement opposite, the confederate showman had concealed himself beneath
the woollen drapery, and the Italian comedian had just commenced his
merry note of preparation by squeaking some of those little snatches of
tunes, which act with talismanic power upon the locomotive faculties
of all the peripatetics within hearing, attracting everybody to the
travelling stage, young and old, gentle and simple; all the crowd seem
as if magic chained them to the spot, and each face exhibits as much
anxiety, and the mind, no doubt, anticipates as much or more delight,
than if they were assembled to see Charles Kemble, Young, and
Macready, all three acting in one fine tragedy. There is something so
indescribably odd and ridiculous about the whole paraphernalia of Mr.
Punch, that we are irresistibly compelled to acknowledge the superiority
of the lignum vito Roscius over the histrionic corps of mere flesh and
blood. The eccentricity of this immortal personage, his foreign, funny
dialogue, the whim and strange conceit exhibited in his wooden drama,
the gratuitous display, and the unrestricted laugh he affords--all
combine to make Mr. Punch the most popular performer in the world. Of
Italian origin, he has been so long domiciled in England, that he
may now be considered naturalized by common consent. Indeed, I much
question, if a greater misfortune could befall the country, than
the removal or suppression of Mr. Punch a