LONDON TOWN TALK.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 2057, 27 September 1880, Page 3

LONDON TOWN TALK.

[From the “ Argus ” correspondent.] It is sheer malice, as I conclude, which causes certain persons to destroy the carriage cushions whenever they travel on railways. Not a week goes by without people being convicted of such offences, and they certainly get very lightly off. The idea of citizenship, and “ the greatest happiness of the greatest number,” is almost entirely absent from the minds of our magistrates ; they do not understand that the deliberate attempt to diminish the sum of human comfort is an immorality of the gravest hind, or these mischievous apes would get their deserts. The sympathy of the Bench with humour is not generally remarkable, but at Rochdale a mechanic convicted of a murderous attack upon his wife gets only six months’ imprisonment, on account (or at least there appears no other reason for mitigation) of the drollery with which his crime was committed. After assaulting the poor woman so that “she was unconscious and streaming with blood, he besmeared her face with soot, set her up in a chair, and called in the neighbours to look at a Zulu.” If I had been on the Bench of Magistrates, I might perhaps have been tickled as they were with the excessive fun of this performance, but (by way of carrying on the joke) I would most certainly have introduced the humourist to the cat of nine tails. The Dunmow Flitch was given away as usual on the 26th of this month, “ to any married couple who are willing to swear before a jury that they have lived together in unbroken amity for a year and a day.” The mistake of this admirable institution seems to me to be its having its jury composed of “ maidens and bachelors.” How should they know anything about the disputes of wedded life ? On the contrary, it should consist of the longest (and oftenest) married couples procurable, iu which case the crossexamination (under the head of “ by a juror”) would be really worth hearing. On what admirably good behaviour, by the bye, intending candidates must be as they near the period of probation. One can imagine, on the slightest cloud appearing on the brow of the husband, the lady saying, “My dear, the Flitch !” on which it instantly vanishes. On the 27th, however, human nature probably asserts itself, and he beats her about the head with a poker. A charming thing in railway frauds has just been discovered, and one which really does great oredst to human ingenuity. Five passengers have to come every day, say from York to London [I am of course taking a fictitious case], and they pick up a friend of theirs at Peterborough. They take no tickets at all, but he takes six from Peterborough, thereby saving the five fares from that place to York. The whole affair sounds like an arithmetical problem of quite a high class, and commends itself to every economical traveller who can command the services of a

friend and intermediary. It is quite sad to think that the terminus eventually reached by this ingenious band of passengers was the Middlesex Sessions.

Quite as clever (and with no drawback in the way of immorality) is Mr Cowell Brown’s invention for saving folks from drowning. A chemical preparation is inserted in the coat, waistcoat, and dress, which, directly the wearer falls into the water, causes the clothes to inflate, and their wearer to float like a buoy, or in case of a lady, let us say, like a waterlily. Arrangements are made by which which a mere shower of rain shall not suddenly distend one’s garments to the surprise of all beholders. If this invention, as seems likely from experiments, prove practicable, one would only have to add a little asbestos to the preparation in order to treat both fire and flood with equal contempt. There would then be positively no element to fear but earth—which I am afraid must have us at last in spite of all precautions. The poet informs us (no doubt truly, though my own experience of the fact is limited), “ ’Tis always morning somewhere in the world,” which he addresses by way of comfort to those in darkness ; and similarly it ought perhaps to be a great consolation to very poor people that there are some persons immensely rich. The proof of this latter fact could hardly be deduced more forcibly than from the sale of Mr Cartwright’s wines the other day, which probably fetched the highest prices over known, even in tho golddiggings amongst those very nouvtawx riches —the miners. "Bristol milk,” as the very deep gold sherry supplied by Harvey and Son, of Bristol, used to be called, was sold for 13 guineas a dozen; Perrier Jouet’s Carte d’Or champagne (1870) realised £ls; and the choicest cuvee (1865) no less than £lB a dozen! A little Baal Madeira (1862) was within the reach of moderate incomes, i.e., under £IO,OOO a-year, at £8 a dozen pints. Such prices do not prove perfection in tho liquor so much as the wealth of the buyers. They were resolved to have the most expensive wines in their cellar procurable, and they have got them. But if liquor at a third, or even a

fourth, of the price was set before them, with the information that it was “ Cartwright’s,” the gratification of their palates would be the same. It is a fact well known to wine merchants, but which if revealed to gourmets would curtail a good deal of conversation about “ the vintages,” that, though many people know good wine from bad, not one in a thousand can distinguish good from very good. All talk about wine, you may take for granted, is founded on purse pride, and only developes a certain obscure and peculiar talent for lying. A rich man, who sets moderately good wine before bis guests, may always persuade them (and almost himself) that they are drinking •' Cartwright’s ” own. If those who “drink like a fish ” are thus credulous, it is not surprising that fish themselves are easily taken in. At the Brighton Aquarium some experiments have been made with young salmon that really go beyond merely “trifling with the intelligence.” As is well-known, these creatures leave the river and make their way to the sea every year, returning to spawn. The difficulty was, therefore, to substitute by artificial means the changes of water through which the fish would pass if at large. In short, to persuade them that they had been to sea. And this deception has been successfully carried out. At this season of the year the British paterfamilias devoutly wishes that the members of his family were equally gullible. How delightful it would be, if without taking them from their home-tank, we could persuade our wives and children that they had been to Scarborough or the Isle of Wight, and did not want any change of air or dipping. Relations are sometimes dreadful things, notwithstanding our chivalrous attempts to nersuado folks to the contrary, but I never irnew how dreadful they could be till I read last week of the domestic trouble of an old gentleman at Blumstead. He had loved not wisely but too well; that is to say, when advanced in years he had espoused a young woman, and on his wedding day his three married daughters came to congratulate him. This they did by knocking at his door for twenty minutes apiece all night, and eventually throwing a large stone through the window of his nuptial chamber. The magistrate before whom the case was brought endeavored to convince them that their papa had a right to marry if he liked ; to which they replied they rather pitied than blamed him. In the end the good Cadi expressed his hope that “ they would shortly be at peace and harmony not only with their father, but their stepmother also.” I have heard all sorts of epithets applied to police magistrates; the term for this gentleman is “ sanguine.”

In America it seems there are lady dramatic critics, which enables dramatic criticism to be more exact and particular upon certain matters. One of them has discovered lately that a pretty and popular actress has not such good legs as she would have the public believe. “I have.” says the critic, “seen her legs within three weeks in “ Oymbeline,” “ As You Like it,” and “Twelfth Night,” and have satisfied myself that they are larger in “ As You Like it” than in “ Oymbeline,” and larger yet in “Twelfth Night.” Legs, like other cylindrical forms, look smaller when covered with black. Supposing, for argument’s sake, the white tights of the first play are genuinely filled out, I judge the brown ones of the second to contain about two quarts of sawdust, and the black ones of the third not less than a peck. Such is my conscientious estimate.” It will be a very shocking thing if critics on this side of the Atlantic become so conscientious as this. The telephone is getting to bo pretty generally laid between “ churches and chapels and the houses of the well-to-do bedridden.” Chants, hymns and lessons are distinctly beard, but only a very little of the sermon. Ibis, I fear, will prove a great tempation to some churchgoers to stop at home, when we consider, too, that the collection plate cannot be sent by telephone —but there, I will impute no motives. In the “Live Stock Journal” (of all sources to supply a romantic incident) there is an account of a very sober retriever —let us hope of a mourning color —who always attends the funerals of the household in which he is located. If attacked by another dog during the solemn ceremony he takes no notice, treats him with contemptuous silence ; and when the service is concluded begins to howl as if at an Irish wake. Except the howling this is surely most exemplary conduct. lam very staid at funerals myself, but if attacked by a dog—well, I am afraid I should exhibit emotion.