Phil May
Sketches from
“P U N C H.”

P h i l M a y
Sketches from
“PUNCH.”

LONDON:
“Punch” Office, 10, Bouverie Street, E.C.

Bradbury, Agnew & Co., Ltd.,
Printers,
London and Tonbridge.

Phil May.

Born, April 22, 1864. Died, August 5, 1903.

If the death of Phil May is a loss that the world of art may not soon retrieve, to his wide circle of friends it is an irreparable hurt. He had a nature made to love; so great a charm of gentleness and unaffected modesty went with his splendid gifts. The hard times of early life, that helped him in his art, as they helped another Filippo, to “learn the look of things,” left their trace, too, in the almost reckless generosity he showed for the needs of others. Less careful for himself, he suffered as a man must suffer who has a heart too quickly responsive to the claims of good fellowship always to distinguish in others between friendship and mere camaraderie. Among his colleagues at the Table he inspired a personal affection not less frank and sincere than their admiration, never even faintly tinged with envy, for the genius from which they caught a reflected pride. Their only jealousy was of the happy possessor of the latest of those delightfully spontaneous sketches which he used to make on the backs of the Punch Dinner menus. These gifts are treasured still more dearly now, along with many unrecorded memories that linger about his vacant place.

Owen Seaman.

From “Punch,” August 12th, 1903.

Contents

Sketches by Phil May
From “PUNCH.”

“AND SHE OUGHT TO KNOW!”

“That’s supposed to be a Portograph of Lady Solsbury But, bless yer, it ain’t like her a bit in Private!”

[First contribution to “Punch.“

SELF-CRITICISM.

First Genius to Second Genius. “Why on Earth do you do your Hair in that absurd Fashion, Smith?”

THE FINISHING-TOUCH.

“Arf a pound er Margarine, please; an’ Mother says will yer put the Cow on it, ’cos she’s got Company!”

Q. E. D.

“What’s up wi’ Sal?” “Ain’t yer ’erd? She’s Married agin!”

THE PLUNGER.

First Boy (much interested in the game of Buttons). “’As ’e lost?”

Second Ditto. “Yes; ’e lost all them Buttons what ’e won off Tommy Crowther yesterday, an’ then ’e cut all the Buttons off ’is Clothes, and ’e ’s lost them too!”

AN IMPORTANT ’JUNCTION.

“You mind your Fader gets my Boots reddy by Four o’clock, ’cos I’m goin’ to a Party”

WASTED EFFORTS.

New Assistant (after hair-cutting, to Jones, who has been away for a couple of weeks). “Your ’Air is very thin be’ind, Sir. Try Singeing!” Jones (after a pause). “Yes, I think I will.”

N. A. (after singeing). “Shampoo, Sir? Good for the ’Air, Sir.” Jones. “Thank you. Yes.”

N. A. “Your Moustaches curled?” Jones. “Please.”

N. A. “May I give you a Friction?” Jones. “Thank you.”

N. A. “Will you try some of our—”

Manager (who has just sighted his man, in Stage whisper). “You Idiot! He’s a Subscriber!!”

A SUNDAY DINNER.

Father of Family (who has accidentally shot the leg of a Fowl under the table). “Mind t’Dog doesn’t get it!”

Young Hopeful (triumphantly). “All right, Feyther! I’ve gotten me Foot on it!”

BLASÉ.

Kitty (reading a fairy tale). “‘Once upon a time there was a Frog——’”

Mabel (interrupting). “I bet it’s a Princess! Go on!”

MUCH ADO.

“Mamma-a-a! Boo-hoo! We’s crying! Tum up ’tairs an’ see what’s de matter wiv us!”

”A SOFT ANSWER,” &c.

Importunate Street Urchin (for the tenth time). “Gi’ us a Copper, Sir! Gi’ us a Copper!”

Testy Individual (losing patience). “Oh, go to“—(substitutes a milder form)—“BLAZES!”

Street Urchin. “Sure thin an’ I would in this bastly could weather, if I was only certain o’ comin’ back again!”

[Individual’s testiness overcome and Urchin rewarded.

NOT WHAT HE MEANT.

Superior ’Arry. “Cabbie! To the—aw—the Prince of Wales’s.”

Cabbie. “Marlbro’ ’Ouse, my Lord?”

PICKINGS FROM PICARDY.

After the Procession. A Solo by Grand-père.

BOTANY; OR, A DAY IN THE COUNTRY.

“Say, Billee, shall we gaver Mushrooms?”

“Yus. I’m a Beggar to Climb!”

A MODEL.

Little Guttersnipe (who is getting quite used to posing). “Will yer want me ter tike my Bun down?”

A LECTURE IN STORE.

“Are you comin’ ’ome?”

“I’ll do ellythik you like in reasol, M’ria—(hic)—Bur I won’t come ’ome.”

A SKETCH FROM LIFE.

Chorus (slow music). “We’re a rare old—fair old—rickety, rackety Crew!”

A GOURMAND.

Youngster (who has just had a Penny given to him). “’Ow much is them Grapes, Mister?”

Shopkeeper (amused). “They are Four Shillings and Sixpence a Pound, my Lad.”

Youngster. “Well, then, give us a ’A’porth o’ Carrots. I’m a Demon for Fruit!”

SO THAT DOESN’T COUNT.

“Are you sure they’re quite Fresh?”

“Wot a Question to arst! Can’t yer see they’re Alive?”

“Yes; but you’re Alive, you know!”

A SPECIAL PLEADER.

First Boy. “Give us a Bite of your Apple, Bob.”

Second Boy. “Shan’t.”

First Boy. “What for?”

Second Boy. “Cos yer axed me!”

(After a pause.)

Small Boy. “Gi’ me a Bite, Bob. I never axed yer!”

A NATURAL QUERY.

“What Bait are yer usin’, Billie?”

“Cheese.”

“What are yer tryin’ ter catch—Mice?”

INAPPROPRIATE.

Street Serio (singing). “Er—yew will think hov me and Love me has in dies hov long ago-o-o!”

A SKETCH NEAR PICCADILLY.

A THREAT MISPLACED.

“Oi tell yez Oi will not clane out me Cell. Oi’d lave the Jail furrst!”

OBVIOUS.

“Gentlemen, I am ready to admit that his Career in the Past has not been free from Blemish——”

AN AWKWARD ADMISSION.

Enthusiastic Briton (to seedy American, who has been running down all our National Monuments). “But even if our Houses of Parliament ‘aren’t in it,’ as you say, with the Masonic Temple of Chicago, surely, Sir, you will admit the Thames Embankment, for instance——”

Seedy American. “Waal, guess I don’t think so durned much of your Thames Embankment, neither. It rained all the blarmed time the night I slep on it.”

A HOMELY TEST.

Ethel (reading from book of familiar sayings). “‘A Man at Forty is either a Fool or a Physician.’ That’s rather funny, Kate. Daddy is more than Forty, and he’s certainly not a Physician!”

AT A LITERARY AND ARTISTIC BANQUET.

Waiter (to Colleague). “Well, they may ’ave the Intellec’, Fred, but we certainly ’as the Good Looks!”

NOTES OF TRAVEL.

Foreign Husband (whose Wife is going to remain longer). “Gif me Two Dickets. Von for Me to come back, and von for my Vife not to come back!”

SENDING-IN-DAY AT THE R. A.

“But it is impossible for you to see the President. What do you want to see him for?”

“I want to show him exactly where i want my Picture hung.”

FROM DOTTYVILLE.

Lunatic (suddenly popping his head over wall). “What are you doing there?” Brown. “Fishing.”

Lunatic. “Caught anything?” Brown. “No.”

Lunatic. “How long have you been there?” Brown. “Six hours.”

Lunatic. “Come inside!”

ANOTHER FROM DOTTYVILLE.

Harmless Lunatic (who is occasionally allowed out with a pop-gun). “Oh, I say, do you know how to catch a Rabbit?”

Nervous Stranger. “No, I don’t.”

Harmless Lunatic. “Well, you just get behind the Hedge and make a noise like a Turnip!”

JAM SATIS.

Commissionaire. “Would you like a Four-wheeler or a ’Ansom, Sir?”

Convivial Party (indistinctly). “Ver’ mush oblige—but—reely don’t think I could take ’ny more!”

PETTICOAT LANE.

FELINE IMPRESSIONS.

Chemist (to battered female, who is covered with scratches). “The Cat, I suppose?”

Battered Female. “No. Another Lydy!”

AN AWAKENING.

“I say, ’Arry, don’t we look Frights?”

POOR LETTER H.

Tenor (singing). “Oh, ’appy, ’appy, ’appy be thy Dreams——”

Professor. “Stop, stop! Why don’t you sound the H?”

Tenor. “It don’t go no ’igher than G!”

DISADVANTAGES OF PERFORMING AT A COUNTRY HOUSE IN THE WASP SEASON.

(Just in the most important passage, too.)

ART IN WHITECHAPEL.

“Well, that’s what I calls a himpossible Persition to get yerself into!”

THE NATIONAL SPORTING CLUB, LONDON.

FLIPPANCY.

Serious Old Party. “Eh, but this is a wicked World!”

Flippant Individual. “You are right, Mrs. Mumble. For my part, I shall be quite satisfied if I get out of it alive!”

A REJOINDER.

’Arry (whose “Old Dutch” has been shopping, and has kept him waiting a considerable time). “Wot d’yer mean, keepin’ me standin’ abaat ’ere like a bloomin’ Fool?”

’Arriet. “I can’t ’elp the Way yer stand, ’Arry!”

AN INJURED INNOCENT.

Minister’s Wife. “Tommy Crowther, you haven’t washed your Face to-day!”

Tommy Crowther. “’Tain’t Sunday!”

NOTES FROM MR. PUNCH’S FOREIGN SKETCH-BOOK.

Feeding the Pigeons at St. Mark’s Square, Venice.

CRITICS FROM THE QUARTIER LATIN.

First Student. “Quant à moi, je reconnais surtout la manque merveilleuse d’expression qui dénote un vrai maître!”

’ARRY IN ’OLLAND.

’Arry. “I say, Bill, ain’t he a rum-lookin’ Cove?”

MISTRUST.

Gran’pa Macpherson. “How many does Two and Two make, Donald?”

Donald. “Six.”

Gran’pa. “What are ye talking about? Two and Two make Four.”

Donald. “Yes, I know; but I thought you’d ’beat me down’ a bit!”

AN UNEXPECTED REPLY.

Father O’Flynn. “And now, Pat Murphy, in this season of Lent, what is it ye’ll do by way of Penance?”

Pat Murphy. “Sure, then, I’ll—I’ll come an’ hear your Riverance prayche!”

“THE GREY MARE.”

Scrumble. “Been to see the Old Masters?”

Stippleton (who has married money). “No. Fact is“—(sotto voce)—”I’ve got quite enough on my hands with the old Missus!”

AT A GARDEN PARTY

Lady Vere de Vere (to distinguished foreigner). “You must excuse me. I know it’s awfully silly of me. I know your Name so well, but I can’t remember your Face!”

THE VERY LATEST DISCOVERY.

Amateur Astronomical Student (returning home, after attending scientific Bachelor Dinner, where “the reported discovery of a new Satellite of Saturn” has been warmly discussed). “Where am I? Letsh shee—(considering)—Earth’s got one Moon. Mars’s got five Moo—Jup’tush nine—I shee two Moons. Then—Where am I?”

CHRISTMAS COMES BUT ONCE A YEAR.

Cabby (to Gent who has been dining out). “’Ere y’are, Sir. This is your ’ouse—get out—be careful, Sir—’ere’s the step.”

Gent. “Yesh! Thash allri, but wersh my Feet?”

MALAPROPOS.

Mrs. Snobson (who is doing a little slumming for the first time and wishes to appear affable, but is at a loss to know how to commence conversation). “Town very Empty!”

OVERHEARD AT A COUNTRY FAIR.

“’Ere y’are! All the Jolly Fun! Lidies’ Tormentors two a Penny!”

CONVINCING.

OVERHEARD ON THE STEPS OF THE ARMY AND NAVY STORES.

Commissionaire. “Uniforms? Top Floor, Sir!”

EUREKA!

Portrait of a Calculating Gentleman (not at all a bad-looking Chap) who has solved the Problem as to whether we are in the Nineteenth or Twentieth Century.

A SOLILOQUY.

Tragedian. “Cheap! Ha, Ha! Why in my time they threw them at us!”

A BREEZY CUSTOMER.

“Shave, or Hair Cut, Sir?”

“Corns, you Fool!”

A MISUNDERSTANDING.

Old Maid. “Is this a Smoking Compartment, young man?”

Obliging Passenger. “No, Mum. ’Igher up!”

GRAPHIC.

“Yer know, them Boers ’as bin storin’ Guns and Hambition for years!”

HARD LINES.

“Just my luck! This sort of thing always happens just when i’m invited to a Party!”

FROM ERIN’S ISLE.

“Sure, Terence, if yez go to the Front, kape at the Back, or ye’ll be kilt. Oi know ut!”

“Faith, an’ isn’t that the way oi get my livin’?”

MAFEKING NIGHT.

(Or rather 3 A.M. the following morning.)

Voice (from above). “Good gracious, William! Why don’t you come to Bed?”

William (huskily). “My dear Maria, you know it’s been the rule of my life to go to Bed shober—and I can’t posh’bly come to Bed yet!”

ANOTHER WAY OF PUTTING IT.

Little Effie (not at all inclined to go to sleep—to Nurse who is about to switch off the electric light). “Oh, please, Nanna, don’t turn on the dark!”

AN ARTLESS QUERY.

Mamma. “To-morrow’s Christmas Day, Effie dear, and you will go to Church for the first time.” (Encouragingly.) “There will be beautiful music——”

Effie. “Oh, Mummy dear, may I dance?”

NOT A WATER DRINKER.

Talkative Old Lady (drinking a glass of Milk, to enthusiastic Teetotaler, who is doing ditto). “Yes, Sir, since they’re begun poisoning the Beer, we must drink something, mustn’t we?”

A CONNOISSEUR.

Old Lady (giving a very diminutive nip of Whisky to her Gardener). “There, Dennis, that Whisky is twenty years old!”

Dennis. “Is it that, Marm? Sure ’tis mighty small for its age!”

ON THE VILLAGE GREEN.

Amateur Bowler (to Umpire). “Here, I say! I can’t see the Wicket. How can I bowl him?”

Umpire. “Fire away! If you ’it ’im in front, it’s ‘Leg before.’ If you ’it ’im behind, it’s a ‘Wide’!”

”AN ENGLISHMAN’S HOUSE,” &c.

Maid (looking over wall, to newly-married couple just returned from their honeymoon). “Oh, please ’m, that Dog was sent here yesterday as a Wedding Present; and none of us can’t go near him. You’ll have to come in by the back way!”

SELF-SATISFIED.

Little Griggs (to caricaturist). “By Jove, old feller, I wish you’d been with me this morning; you’d have seen such a funny looking chap!”

ANOTHER MR. WELLER.

Club Attendant (to stout party, who is struggling into overcoat). “Allow me, Sir.”

Stout Party. “No, don’t trouble! This is the only exercise i ever take!”

ANOTHER FROM IRELAND.

Mrs. O’Brady. “Shure oi want to bank twinty pounds. Can I draw it out quick if I want it?”

Postmaster. “Indade, Mrs. O’Brady, you can draw it out to-morrow if you give me a wake’s notice!”

VANITAS.

Pantomime Child (to admiring friend). “Yus, and there’s another hadvantage in bein’ a hactress. You get yer fortygraphs took for noffink!”

BROTHERS IN ART.

New Arrival. “What should I charge for teaching ze Pianoforte?”

Old Stager. “Oh, I don’t know.”

N. A. “Vell, tell me vot you charge.”

O. S. “I charge five guineas a lesson.”

N. A. “Himmel! how many Pupils have you got?”

O. S. “Oh, I have no Pupils!”