Volume 25 — GREAT CATCHES.
Reading edition
WHETHER everybody has his price or not; there are some quite capable of selling themselves, even by auction: as, for one instance, we should think, the author of the subjoined advertisement:—
AS LEDGER CLERK, Manager, and Correspondent.—A gentleman, of close-sticking business habits, who does nothing by halves, whose references as to character, &c., are first-rate, and whose devotion to his employers' interests ever has been unbounded, is just now open to a RE-ENGAGEMENT. The advertiser is of ripe, vigorous, middle-age, and so undeviatingly systematic, as by the restless force of example, to be qualified to establish, in all around him, habits of perseverance, self denial, and fagging industry, such as could not fail to tell wonderfully, as those habits became more and more fully developed, on any set of people so organised. Clever men of business, who, one and all, admire cleverness in others, and especially when it makes to them its own peculiar bow of the most profound obeisance, are most respectfully requested to address their replies to Alpha Delta, &c., &c.
The gentleman so industriously adhesive certainly does not cry himself up by halves; and the glowing language in which he describes his age as "ripe and vigorous," might well become some Yankee George Robins appraising an Uncle Tom. We can vividly imagine him putting himself up, ringing the changes on his ripeness and vigour, first-rate references, undeviatingly systematic ways, close-sticking business habits, and unbounded devotion to his employers' interests: and ultimately, with his "own peculiar bow of the most profound obeisance," respectfully knocking himself down to the best bidder. We should like to buy him at our terms in this manner, if we could afterwards dispose of him at his own. But our friend blows his trumpet with rather too many flourishes; makes overmuch use of the figure hyperbole, to commend himself for employment in those figures that Ledger Clerks are more particularly concerned with.
In the same Times that contained the foregoing announcement, appears also the following:—
NO SALARY REQUIRED.—A young Gentleman, (20 years of age), author of several works, wishes for a HOME. He is a beautiful reader and writer; can write poetry, tales, essays, and anything literary. He is possessed of pleasing manners, kind disposition, and would do all in his power to make himself useful, and contribute to the happiness of those with whom he may become associated. One of his works sent for six stamps. Address Reginald Villiers, &c., &c.
This is a performance on a similar instrument; but it is the clarionet to the cornet-à-pistons. Only 20; a "beautiful" reader and writer; can write poetry, tales, essays, and "anything literary;" and is already the "author of several works." Why, this is a second
"Chatterton the marvellous Boy,"
and we should say he had better take care that he does not so far resemble
"The sleepless Soul that perished in his pride,"
as to go off, some day, in a fit of vanity and self-conceit.
We are almost inclined to send him six stamps for one of his works, in order that we may ascertain if it is worth a single rap.
Roebuck Himself Again.
The Sheffield Independent announces that Mr. Roebuck's health is so much improved that he has accepted an invitation to the Cutlers' feast. We are happy to hear it, and hope Mr. Roebuck will do the Cutlers the credit of playing a good knife and fork.
THE DECIMAL COINAGE.
The Chairman of the Committee to the Vulgar (fractional) Public. Air—"Won't you Come and take Tea in the Arbour?"
The Coinage Committee, which sat in the City, At last have completed their labour, And derive from the action intense satisfaction; We're sick of "Colenso" and "Mavor!" But as it may be thought that we mean our "report" For the special behoof of "the City," Half a page of the Times we'll condense into rhymes To the air of a popular ditty. So, though it's uphilly, give up all your silly Ideas, which might suit your grandfather About shillings and pence, which are not common sense, And take to the decimals rather! As in loyalty bound, we shall stick to the pound— 'Twould be treason the "sovereign" to banish; But all the half-crowns, "bobs", "joeys", and "browns," Into Royal Mint-sauce must vanish. But we'll leave you the Florin, which cannot be foreign, As every one lots of them handles, And of these 'twill be found, ten will go to the pound, For all the world like—kitchen candles! Then, though it's uphilly, &c. Still on decimals bent, we descend to the Cent (Find its value yourself, if you're able), Divide by ten still, and you'll come to the Mil There, my friends, you've the whole of the table. So we hope by next session, you'll be in possession Of some sensible decimal money; And pay all little bills in cents, florins, and mils, Never mind if, at first, it seem funny. But, though it's uphilly, &c. Those who talk about "browns," and say "bulls"—meaning crowns, Perchance for "nicknames" may be roarin'; Recollect in a "mill" you've of pounding your fill, And frequently plenty of floorin'. Now, Public! tho' slow—that you're grateful to show (If you are not a stingy, mean sinner), The least you can do, is to just buckle to, And give the Committee—a dinner! Then, though it's uphilly, &c.