Page:Punch vol 1.djvu/71

 64

PUNCH.

MV U1TCI.E BUCKET.

The Buckets ai*o a large family! I am one of tliem^niy miclo J ob Bucket is another. Wc, the Buckets, are atoms of creation ; yet we, the Buckets, arc living types of the immensity of the world’s inhabitants.

e illustrate their ups and downs — ^their fulness and their emptiness — ■ tlicir risings and their fallings — and all the several goods and ills, the woidd’s denizens in general, and Buckets in particular, are undoubted heirs to.

It hath ever been the fate of the fuluess of one Bucket to ^arantee the emptiness of another ; and (mark the moral ! ) the rising Bucket is the richly stored one ; its sinking brother’s attributes, like Gratiano’s wit, lieing ‘‘ an infinite deal of nothing.” Hence the adoption of our name for the wooden utensils that have so aptly fished up this fact from the deep well of truth, ^ ...

There be certain rods that attract the lightning. We are inclined to tliinli there bo certain Buckets that invite lacking, and our uncle Job was one of them. Ho was birched at school for everybody but himself, for he never deserved it ! Ho was plucked at college — because some practical joker placed a utensil, bearing his name, outside the door of the examining master, and our uncle Job Bucket being unfortimately present, laughed at the consequent abrasion of his, the examining-master’s, shins. He was called to the bar. His first case was, “Jane Smith versus James Smith,” (no relations). His client was the female. She had been viplently as- saulted. He mistook the initial — ^pleaded wai*mly for the opposing Smith, and glowingly described the disgraceful conduct of the veriest virago a legal adviser ever had the pain of speaking of.^ The verdict was, as he thought, on his side. The lady favoured him with a living evidence of all the attributes he was pleased to invent for her benefit, and left him with a proof impression of her nails upon his face, carrying with her, by way of souvenir^ an anix^lo portion of the skin thereof. Had the condensed heels of all the horses whose subscription haii's wore wrought into his wig, with one united effort presented him with a kick in his abdominals, he could not have been more completely “ Imocked out of time” than he was by the mistake of those cursed initials. What about Smith sent liim out of court ! At length he


 * Cursed the bar, and declined.^’

He next turned his attention to building. Things went on swimmingly during the erection — so did the houses when built. The proprietorship of the ground was disputed — our uncle J ob had paid the wrong person. The buildings were knocked domi (by Mr. Bobins), and the individual who had benefited by the suppositionary ownership of the acres let on the building lease, “bought the lot,” and sent Uncle Job a peculiarly weU- worded legal notice, intimating “ his respectable presence would, for the future, approximate to a nuisance and trespass, andlie (Job) would be pro- ceeded against as the statutes directed, if guilty of the same.”

It is impossible to follow him through all his various strivings to do well : ho commenced a small-beer brewery, and the thunder turned it all into vinegar ; he tried vinegar, and nothing on earth could make it sour ; lie opened a niilk-waJk, and the parish pump failed 5 he invented a water- proof composition — ^thero was fourteen weelcs of drought lie sold his patent for two-and-sxxponce, and had the satisfaction of walking home for*tIie next three months wet tlmough, from his gossamer to his ci-devant Wel- lingtons, now, literally, from their hydraulic powers, pumps,’*'*

He lost everything but his heart ; and Uncle Bucket was all heart ! a red cabbage couldn’t exceed it in size, and, like that, it seemed naturally predes- tined to be everlastingly in a pickle ! Still it was a heart ! Y oii were wel- come to his venison when he had it— his present saveloy was equally at your service. He must have been remarkably attached to facetious elderly poultry of the masculine gender, as his invariable salute to the tenants of his “ heai-t’s core ” was, “ How are you, my jolly old cook !” Coats be- came threadbare, and defunct trousers vanished ; waistcoats were never replaced, gossamers floated down the tide of Time ; boots, deprived of all hope of future renovation by the loss of their S0&5, mouldered in obscurity ; but the clear voice and chuckling salute were changeless as the s'tatutes of the Modes and Persians, the price and size of penny tarts, or the accumu- lating six-aiid-eigh^ences gracing a lawyer’s bill.

Poor Undo Job Bucket’s fortune had driven “ him down the rough tide of power,” when first and last we met ; all was blighted save the royal heart ; and yet, with shame we own the truth, we blushed to meet him. Why ? ay, why,? W e own tlio weakness ! — the heart, the goodly heart, was almost cased in rags!

“Puppy!”

Bight, reader, right; we were a puppy. Lash on, we richly deserve it! but consider the fearful influence of worn-out cloth ! Can a long series of unchanging kindness balaneo patched elbows? are not crackea boots receipts in full for hours of anxious love and care? does not the kindness of a life fade “like the baseless fabric of a vision” before the withering touch of poverty's stern stamp ? Have you ever felt—

“Eh? what? ISTo — stuff! Yes, yes — go on, go on."

We will !— we blushed for our uncle’s coat ! His heart, God bless it, never caused a blush on the cheek of man, woman, child, or even angel, to rise for that. We will confess. Let’s see, we are sixty now (we don’t look so much, but we are sixty). Well, be it so. We were handsome once— is tills vanity at sixty ? if so, our grey hairs are a hatchment for the past. We were “ swells once ! — ^hurrali !— we were ! ” Stop, this is inde- cent — ^let iis he calm— our action wa^ like the proceeding of the denuder of well-sustained and thriving pigs, he Vho derives them of their extreme obesive sclvig&^utffo, “ we cut it fat,** Bond-street was cherished by our smile, and Banelagh was rendered happy by the exhibition of our sym- ^ctry. Behold us hessiaiied in our haunts, touching the tips of well- j gloved fingers to our passing friends ; then fancy the opening and shutting'

of om* back, just as Lord Adolphus Nutmeg claimed the afiinity of “kid to kid,” to find our other hand close prisoner made by our Uncle Bucket.

“ How are you, old cock ?”

« Who’s that, eh ?”

A lunatic, my lord (what lies men tell !), and dangerous !”

“ Good day ! [Exit my lord'. This way.” Wo followed our uncle— the end of a blind alley gave us a resting-place.

“ Bravo!” exelainicd our Uncle Bucket, “this is rare! I live here— dine with me !”

A mob siu‘rounded us— we acquiesced, in hopes to reach a place of shelter.

“ All right !” exclaimed he of the maternal side, “ stand three-halfpence for yom* feed,”

We shell’d the necessary out— he dived into a baker’s shop— the mob increased — he hailed us from the door.

“ Thank God, this is your house then ?”

“ Only my kitchen. Lend a hand !”

A dish of steaming baked potatoes, surmounted by a fractional rib of consumptive beef, was deposited between the lemon-coloured receptacles of our thumbs and fingers— an outciy was raised at the court’s end— wo were almost mad.

Turn to the right — three-pair back— cut away while it’s warm, and make yourself at home ! I’ll come with the beer !”

We wished our I had been in that bier ! We rushed out— the gravy basted our pants^ and greased our hessians ! Lord Adolphus Nutmeg appeared at the entrance of the court. As we proceeded to our announced destination,— “ Great God!” exclaimed his lordship, “ the Bedlamite has bitten liim!” A peal of lai^hter rang in our ears — ^we rushed into the wrong room, and our uncle Job Bucket picked us, the shattered dish, the reeking jiotatoes, and dislodged beef, from the inmost recesses of a wicker- cradle, where, spite the thumps and entreaties of a distracted pai’ent, we were all engaged in overlaying a couple of remarkably promising twins ! We can say no more on this frightful subject. But—

“ Once again we met T’

Our pride wanted cutting, and fate appeared determined to perform the operation with a jagged saw !

Tom Backet died ! _ His disease was infectious, and we had been the last j^erson to call u^ion him, consequently we wore mournful. Thick-coming tancies brooded m our brain — all things conspired against ns : the day was damp and wretched — ^the church-bells emulated eawi other in announcing the mortalities of earth’s bipeds— each tolVd its tale of death. We thought upon our “absent friend.”^ A funeral approached. We were still more

f loomy. Could it be his ? if so, what were his thoughts ? Could ghosts ut speak, what would he say ? Tho coffin was coeval with us— sheets were rubicund compared to our cheeks. A low deep voice sounded from its very bowels — the words were addressed to us— they were, “ Take no notice ; it’s the first time ; it will soon be over !”

“ Will it ?” we groaned,

“Yes. I’m glad you know me. I’ll tell you more when I come

back,”

“ Gracious powers ! do you expect to return ?”

“ Certainly ! We’ll have a screw together yet ! There’s room for US both in my place. ^ I’ll make you comfortable,”

The cold perspiration streamed from us. Was there ever anything so awful ! Here was an unhappy subject tlireatening to call and see us at night, and then screw us down, and make us corufortable.

“ Will you come ?” exclaimed the dead again.

“ Never ! ” we vociferated with fearful energy.

“ Then let it alone ; I didn’t think you’d have cut me now but wait till I shew you my face.”

Horror of horrors I— the pall moved— a long wliite face peered from it. We gasped for breath, and only felt new life when we recognised our uncle. Job Bucket, as tbe author of the conversation, and one of the bearers of the coffin ! He had turned mute ! — but that was a failure— no one ever died in his parish after his adopting that profession I


 * * * * iHt

He has been seen once since in the backwoods of America. His fate seemed still to follow him, and his good teimper appeared immortal— his situation was more peculiar than pleasant. Etc was seated on a log, three hundred miles from any civilized habitation, sniffing blandly at a broken axe (his only one), the half of which was tightly grasped in his right hand, pointmg to the truant iron in the trunk of a huge tree, the first of a tlirivmg iorest.oi fifty acres he purposed felling ; and, thus occupied, a soli- tary traveller passed our uncle Job Bucket, serene as the molting sunshine, and thoughtless as the wild insect that sported round the owner “ of the lightest of light hearts.”— Peace be with him I

PUSBOSt

IMPORTANT DISCOVERV.

A GENTLEMAN of the name of Stuckey has discovered a new filtering process, by which “ a stream from a most impure source xnay be renderea perfectly translucent and fit for all purposes.” In the name of our rights and liberties!^ m the name of Judy and our country ! we call upon the proper authorities to have this invaluable apparatus erected in the lobby of the House of Commons, and so, by compelfiiig every member to submit to the operation of filtration, cleanse the house from its present accumulation of corruption, though we defy Stuckey himself to give it brightness.

A THING UNFIT TO A(P)PEAR.

New honours heaped on roue Seagrave’s name!—

A cuckold’s horn is then the trump of fame.