MODERN TYPES.

(_By Mr. Punch's Own Type-writer._)

No. I.--THE DULL ROYSTERER.

[Illustration]

The Dull Roysterer, or, as he is termed by the slangiest of his
intimates, the "Bluff Boozer," is ordinarily the son of a wealthy, but
injudicious father, who, having sent him to a good public school,
furnished him with an income that would keep a curate in luxury. He
developes an early inclination for check trousers, and the pleasures
of the table. Appalled by the difficulties of English spelling, he
seeks comfort in Scotch whiskey, and atones for a profound distaste
for the tongues of ancient Greece and Rome by cultivating an
appreciative palate for the vintages of Modern France. His burly
frame, and a certain brute courage, gain for him a place in the School
Football team, and a considerable amount of popularity, which he
increases by the lavish waste of his excessive allowance. He has a
fine contempt, which he never fails to express, for those boys who
attempt to cultivate their minds by the reading of books, and,
naturally, does not hesitate to degrade his own by the immoderate
absorption of strong drinks.

Having, however, been discovered in a state of intoxication, he leaves
school hurriedly and betakes himself to an Army-crammer's where
discipline is lax and dissipation easy. Here he keeps half-a-dozen
fox-terriers, and busies himself about the destruction of domestic
cats. Yet, by dint of much forcing on the part of his Coach, he
succeeds in passing into Sandhurst, and eventually obtains a
commission in a Cavalry Regiment. During this stage of his career he
frequents race-courses and worships earnestly at the shrine of
Bacchus. He entangles himself with the wife of a brother officer, and,
after figuring as the co-respondent in an undefended case, marries
her. In the meantime he sends in his papers, and retires from the
Army. Shortly afterwards he enlists in the ranks of those who seek
pleasure in the night-resorts of the town. He soon becomes the boon
companion of shady sporting men, latter-day coachmen, pink and
paragraphic journalists, and middle-aged ladies, who, having once
been, or been once, on the stage, still affect the skittish manners of
a ballet-dancer. He is a man of short speech, but his humour is as
broad as his drinks are long. He affects a rowdy geniality and a
swaggering gait, by which he seeks to overawe the inoffensive. Though
he has but a small stock of intelligence, he passes for a wit a