Punch . vel.) Me. Heathee-Bigg, the eminent mechanical Therapeutician, has pub-lished a commended book on his invaluable science, and he calls this bookOrthopraxy. The person who first mentioned it to us called it Author-praxy, and we instantly procured it, thinking to extract medical hintsfor morbid novelists and spasmodic poets. It relates, however, tophysical afflictions, whereof Mb. Bigg is a renowned healer. The otherwork remains to be written, and is much wanted by writers who aredeficient in upright morals, and who delight in exhibiting is one of them. There ought to be a
Punch . vel.) Me. Heathee-Bigg, the eminent mechanical Therapeutician, has pub-lished a commended book on his invaluable science, and he calls this bookOrthopraxy. The person who first mentioned it to us called it Author-praxy, and we instantly procured it, thinking to extract medical hintsfor morbid novelists and spasmodic poets. It relates, however, tophysical afflictions, whereof Mb. Bigg is a renowned healer. The otherwork remains to be written, and is much wanted by writers who aredeficient in upright morals, and who delight in exhibiting is one of them. There ought to be a Cripples Home for them,with a chaplain, who could put the poor creatures through a course ofreligious exercises. Rather Superfluous. We read among Fridays telegrams that— Count Bismarck is expected to leave Berlin immediately for Ems, for thebenefit of the baths of that town. One would have thought the Count had had quite enough of hot-water lately. 176 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [Apbil 28, PARLIAMENTARY MELODIES. {Adapted to Popular Airs.) SONG OF THE MUDDLED — 1 wish I was a Bird. I Wish I was a bird, 1d fly anywhere but here;The performance is absurd. And you cannot call for one side talks Reform, And the other makes a row—Eellows crowing like a cock, Or lowing like a cow!If I try to sleep, tis vain. If to talk I shant be heard;Now birds dont spout and splain, So I wish I was a bird! Birds are early after worms, And early seek their rests;And (Bright might take the hint) Birds never foul their nests :And birds with their own feathers Are content; or, if they re dawsIn peacocks plumes, theyre stripped of them With general applause :And birds who cannot sing, Dont insist on being , its quite another thing, Oh,—I wish I was a bird! Journalism. A New Roman Catholic Satirical Paper will, it is rumoured, shortlyappear. It is to be called Guy FawJces, and will blow up .the Houses ofParliament once a week. A FUNNY TALE OP A BEAK. Thi
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1840, booksubjectenglishwitandhumor
