PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

Vol. 99.

August 30, 1890.

[Illustration]

“Why not live out of London?”

Sir,—­Capital subject recently started Daily Telegraph, with the above title.  Just what I’ve been saying to my wife for years past.  “Why don’t you and the family live out of London,” I have asked.  And she has invariably replied, “Oh, yes, and what would you be doing in London?” I impress upon her that being the “bread-winner” (beautiful word, this!) my duty is to be on the spot where the bread is won.  I prove to her, in figures, that it is much cheaper for her and the family to live out of town, and for me to come down and see them, occasionally.  Isn’t it cheaper for one to go to a theatre than four?  Well, this applies everywhere all round.  With my Club and a good room I could get on very well and very reasonably in London, and in the country my wife and family would positively save enormously by my absence, as only the necessaries of life would be required.  Dressing would be next to nothing, so to speak, and they’d be out of reach of the temptations which London offers to those who love theatre entertainments, lunches at pastrycooks’, shows, and shopping.  Yes, emphatically, I repeat, “Why not live out of London?” But she won’t.

    Yours,

    One in A thousand.

Sir,—­“Why not live out of London?” Of course.  I do live “out of London,” and make a precious good living too out of London.  My friends the Butcher, the Baker, the Greengrocer (not a very green grocer either), the Tailor, the Shoemaker, &c., &c., all say the same as

    Yours cheerily,

    Charles Cheddar (Cheesemonger).

Sir,—­I only wish everybody I don’t want to see in London would live out of it.  What a thrice blessed time August would be then!  Though indeed I infinitely appreciate small mercies now.  At all events, most people are away, my Club is not closed, and I can enjoy myself pretty thoroughly.

    Yours,

    Elbow Room Club.

    BEAU WINDER.

SIR,—­“Why not live out of London?” Because one can’t. Out of London there is only “existence.”  Is life worth living anywhere except in London—­and Paris; if you happen to be there?  No, no; those who like living “out of London,” had better not live at all.

    Yours,

    HIPPY CURE.

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MR. PUNCH’S DICTIONARY OF PHRASES.

PRIVATE THEATRICALS.

“Tisn’t a part that I feel, and I fear I shall make a failure;” i.e., “Easy as be blowed, but I’m thrown away upon it.”