The Sun.
London, England, 1855-05-14 00:00:00

grotesqueness. Instance this that glimpse into the
nursery where. Paterfamilias bursts in . witliTan
apostrophe about hie buttonless shirt, addressed
to Materfamilias, then engaged with the little
naked youngling on her lap--serenely preoccupied
with its morning ablutions. Then that other fresh,
delightful, reatutinal, homeiucident,when.under the,
suggestive title " Hooking and Eying," Angelina,
the " wife of his bosom," saith, " Well, Tedvvin, if
you can't make the 'things,' as you call them, meet,
you need not swear so; it's really quite dreadful !"
Edwin partially invisible—Angelina looking all
the while so pretty, buxom, and blooming. Then
that other peep at "Domestic Blies," where—
Mamma, suckling her infant in the chimney-
corner, Paterfamilias, watch in hand, observes—
" I cannot conceive, my love, what is the
matter with my watch ; I think it must want
cleaning." Whereto the Pet Child cries out—
"Oh ! no ; Papa, dear ! I dont think it wants
cleaning, because baby and I had it washing in
the basin for ever so long this morning." Or again
—that dreadful Master Tom, to whom grand-
mamma is supposed to have given some plums—
threatening suddenly in cold blood—" Now, then,
granny, I've eaten the plums, and if you don't
give me sixpence I'll swallow the stones !" Master
Tom holding the stones in the palm of one hand,
and extending the other for the sixpence. Granny,
in her arm chair, at once paralytic and spas-
modic. And so the bizarre, the homely, and the
beautiful illustrate, childhood, boyhood, girlhood,
and' womanhood, in these wonderful sketches of
John Leech in other instances, kindred to the fore-
going, not easily innumerable. His life-drawings
of ridiculous little children, greedy boys, impu-
dent boys, ugly boys, precocious boys, and the like
specimens of the genus homo in miniature, are
things to be remembered. That illustration, for
example, of " Alarming symptoms after eating
boiled beef and gooseberry pie," when Little Boy
whimpers " Oh, for, Mar, I feel just exactly as if
my jacket was buttoned 1" Or that 'other one,
of a kindred Little Boy (our small hero's cou-
sin, we suspect), where [the incident is cele-
brated as " a caution " for the behoof of reflective
juveniles at Christmas] mamma, taking the spoiled
little boy's hand at the dinner-table, says, " Why,
my dearest Albert, what are you crying for—so
good, too, as you have been all day ?" To which
clearest Albert responds with the irrepressible
blubber, " 800-hoo ! I've eaten so m-much b-beef
and t-turkey, that I can't eat any p-plum
p-p pudding 1" Or, again, that horrid young
grampus at the pastrycook's, a pocket Lambert, a
sort of infant Satire on the Living Skeleton, who,
to the shopwornan's inquiry, " What have you had,
sir ?" replies suffocatively, "I've had two jellies,
seven of them, and eleven of them, and six of those, 1
and four bath buns, a sausage roll, ten almond
cakes—and a bottle of ginger beer." As contrasts
to all which pampered and glutted samples of boy-
hood, come those specimens of the little, pert,
dapper, ragged, good-fer-nothing scaramouches of
the London streets, whose doings and sayings Mr.
Leech commemorates with a pen and pencil of
infinite appreciation. Conspicuous among the
examples of which aforesaid gamins de Londres
'must perforce be particularised that notable illus-
tration of " Innocence" in the Streets—where an
incorrigible urchin, with his arm-full of snow-
balls, collared by the beadle, cane in hand,
squalls out breathlessly, " Oh, sir ! No, sir.
Please, sir ; it ain't me, sir ! It's the other
boys, sir !" Another snow scene reveals to us, we
fancy, the veritable twin-brother of Innocence, in
the small boy, with the Keeley-like visage,
meekly averring to " his natural enemy, the
policeman"—" Snowballs, sir ! No, sir ! I
haven't seen any one throw no snowballs, sir !"
A stout old lady in the background being
literally " starred ' with one of those splintered
missiles in the very centre of her cloak, precisely
at that portion of her anatomy which might be
described as the small of her back, but that any
such adjective, so applied, would, in her case, be
altogether inappropriate. A companion picture
is that representing the choleric old gen-
tleman, who has just been dabbed with a
similar pellet in the middle of his hat—the
Lilliputian hurler of the projectile, candidly ex-
plaining in the foreground—" Please, sir, I wasn't
a heavin' at you—l was heavin' at Billy Jones."
Said Billy Jones in the distance—safe, but ob-
servant. And so on through all these delicious
little exemplars of impertinence on the part of the
small fry of our London boy-population.
A distinct series may readily be traced out, here and
there, in the: midst of all the seeming j amble of these
curiously miscellaneous embellishments. A dis-
tinct series, that is, of " cuts"—keen, rapid, and
incisive—laying open to us, by illustration after
illustration, some particular phase of folly in all
the fullness and depth of its ridiculousness. As
brilliant and humorously contrasting tokens of
this, we may take the several sketches relating on
the one hand to " Ftunkeiana," and on the other
to " Servantgalism." It may be as well, perhaps,
to specify distinctly just one or two instances of
the latter—pleasant examples of the said " Ser-
vantgalism ; or, What's to become of the
missuses ?" The consequential servant gal, say,
with the draggled feather in her bonnet, politely
reticuled and genteelly parasoled—who is observ-
ing superciliously to the lady having a vacant situa-
tion " Well, man, heverythink considered, I'm
afraid you won't suit me. I've always been brought
up genteel ; and I eon ld'ut go no wheres where there
ain't no footman kep.' " Another—that cinderous
housemaid with the red nose, looking through the
area railing, as her handsomely-dressed old missus
encounters the small errand-boy on the door-step :
Old Lady.—" What is it, boy?" Boy.—"Please'm
it's a pair of white satin shoes, and the lady's
fan wot's bin mended—name of Miss Julia
Pearlash !" Old Lady.—" Miss !! !! ?? I" Voice
from area—" Oh, it's all right, mum. It's me."
Another—Servant gal " who has quarrelled with
her bread and butter"— " If you please, ma'am, I
find there's cold meat for dinner in the kitchen ;
did you expect me to eat it ?" Lady-Mistress—
" Of course I expect you to eat it, and an excellent
dinner, too." Upon which servant gal—with her nose
in 'the air—" Oh, then, if you please 'm, I should
like to leave this day month." Ale. Leech adding
in sly brackets—[exit idiot]. " Flunkeiana
is, if possible, still better, as a kindred tickler
into laughter. As, for example, in that kitchen
scene, *here " Master of the House," point-
ing to the well-spread table, expostulates—
" Now, pray, what is it you complain of ? Is not a
roast lee of mutton, with plenty of pudding,
vegetables, and beer a substantial dinner
enough for you ?" To which aristocratic flunkey,
settling his cravat affectedly—" Oh, substan-
tial enough, no doubt, sir ; but it really is a
quizzeen that—aw—me and the other gentlemen
has not been accustomed to. It's corse—very
corse indeed, sir! " The other gentlemen pathetic,
by the dresser, both in look and attitude ! An-
other—" Serious Flunkey," snuffling, fleshy about
calf and abdomen, respectable in black, Gampish
in umbrella, and carefully anointed about the head
—toquitur to the old lady with the bible on her
knees—" I should require, madam, forty pounds
a-year, two suits of clothes, two 'ats, meat and hale
three times a-day, and piety hindispensable." An-
other, more delectably laughter-moving Flunkey
—" I beg your pardon, sir—but there is one
thing I should like to mention at once." [Gentle-
man, by the way, in dressing-gown. Breakfast
laid. Flunkey with hand apologetically leaning on
table as he speaks.] "I am afraid—a—that lam
expected to clean the boots." " Gentleman—Bless
me ! Oh dear, no ! There must be some mistake ;
I always clean them myself—and if you will leave
your shoes outside your door I will give them a
polish at the same time." Another—perhaps the
best, as it shall be the last extract from "Flunkeiania."
Lady, surprised--" You wish to leave—really it's
very inconvenient. Pray, have you any reason to
be dissatisfied with your place ? " iiiisnkeY, exPla.
natory—" Oh, dear no, ma'am—not dissatisfied,
exactly ; but—a—the fact is, . ma'am, you don't
keep no wehicle, and I find I miss my carriage
exercise." After which fashion the whole series
is carried out deliciously as a provocative to mer-
riment. Several, of the home-scenes, it should be
observed, are altogether indescribable, whethet in
their natural humour, or, as it mightbe called, their
grotesque probability. As in the "Little Dinner
Party," or, again, in the "Little Surprise"—sketches
worthy'of particular reference to every one upon
n
whose drawing-room table there lays
spread open
of
this pictorial feast of fun, Leech's p
that
who turn over its pages, however carnelgestive
to
Life and Character." It will be observ‘a‘befiesestiyon,those
the most opposite employments are s g
to the Butcher's
crously extravagant. In reference
,c it. Horrible
;;)f his
our artist of notions in their regaerd the most Judi-
trade, for example, here
Business"— the magter-bu
old Major Duincliledore's
assistant, " Did you take,,
Then cut Miss Wiggle's
ribs to No. 12 ?" adding,
ne Mr. Foodle's legs till
entitledquirin a
shoulder and neck, and ha ~,
in like man-
nerder " Hairdressers
they 're quite ten
f.
ent hints of the ludicrous.
afford him no un requ
that Little
lilied by Hairdresser,
As may be exemPh.
s foot in it"—meekly observing
mildly "putting i.
t thegentleman of (as he snips and snips) o.
airs "
temper Yer
un-
governabletop, sir !" To which the infuriated subject-44m
hair thin on the top, sir ! And what if it ' Ikl -1
Confound you, you puppy, do you think I come,
here to be insulted and told of my
.personal defects?
I'll thin your top !!" Or that other, c
of the Hair
dresser observing
" They say, sir, the h -
the hair, sir !" The gentleman. thencholera 'a in
rated with the bristles replying to being tritu-
rated
uneasily, " Indeed ! ahem ! the remark rather
very particular about ' h then I hope you are
t
Whereupon the b.aircir e brushes you use."
(giber explains almost pity-