man who had
been refused alms by a pug-nosed gentleman, "The Lord preserve your
eyesight, for you've no nose to carry spectacles;" as well as that
witticism usually ascribed to Curran when addressing a jury in the face
of a dissenting judge, "He shakes his head, but _there's nothing in
it_;" besides other favourite jokes of similar antiquity and renown.
Robert Seymour, too, in whose work, strangely enough, Leech is said to
have found no humour, shines out posthumously now and again from
_Punch's_ pages. "Move on--here's threepence," says a butler.
"Threepence?" retorts the street-flutist contemptuously, "d'you think I
don't know the value of peace and quietness?" That was originally
Seymour's, together with the drawing of an Englishman's notion of "A
Day's Pleasure"--a labouring-man dragging a cartload of children up a
steep hill on a hot Sunday--an idea which was afterwards the subject of
a _Punch_ cartoon.

Two jokes which from their universality of treatment and the unfailing
welcome accorded them at every reappearance might almost be considered
classic and generic jests, were greatly assisted in their popularity by
Seymour's pencil, before _Punch_ obtained for them still wider
recognition. The first represents a fat man, between whose legs the dog
he is whistling to has taken his faithful stand. The old gentleman
whistles and whistles again, anxiously exclaiming, "Wherever can that
dog be?" After Seymour had done with it, Alfred Crowquill took it up;
and in 1854 (p. 71 of the second volume) Sir John Tenniel introduced it
into _Punch_ under the title of "Where, and oh where!" It was not yet
worn out, however, though it doubtless had seen its best days; and so
the "Fliegende Blaetter" revived it in 1894 as a typical example of
recent German humour. For the other joke two men are required: the one
an unmistakable ruffian, a grim and dirty robber, and the other a weak,
nervous, timid youth of insignificant stature, the scene representing
the entrance to a dark lane as night closes in. "This is a werry lonely
spot, sir," says Seymour's footpad; "I wonder you ain't afeard of being
robbed!"--and the young man's hair stands on end, and lifts his hat
above his head. Leech in 1853 (p. 100, first volume) alters the dialogue
for _Punch_ by introducing the pleasing possibility of a greater
tragedy, by the footpad asking the youth to buy a razor; and Captain
Howard the following spring makes the ruffian inquire if he may
accompa