301
Punch, or the London Charivari
Volume 107, December 29th 1894
edited by Sir Francis Burnand
THE COMPLIMENTS OF THE SEASON
(Founded upon the Farce of ChristmasCards.)
Scene—A London Drawing Room.Paterfamilias discovered readinga paper, and Materfamiliassuperintending the despatch of anumber of cards.
Mater. (in a tone of irritation).I really think, John, that, consideringyou have nothing earthlyto do this afternoon, you mightcome and help me.
Pater. You have said that twicebefore, my dear. Don't you see Iam enjoying myself?
Mater. So like you! As if youcouldn't give up that stupid paper—youdeclare there's no news init—and do me a favour!
Pater. (putting down his paper).Well, anything for a quiet life!What is it?
Mater. I am sending a card toMrs. Brown.
Pater. (taking up his paperagain). Send it.
Mater. My dear John, do attend.I want to know what I shall putinto the envelope.
Pater. (giving up paper, and examiningChristmas Cards withsome vague show of interest). Oh,well—here. (Casually picking upa picture of a country churchyardby moonlight). Won't this be thesort of thing?
Mater. (shocked). How can you,John! Don't you know that Mrs.Brown lost her husband only a yearago?
Pater. Then why are you wishingher "A Merry Christmas"?
Mater. Well, you see she hasmarried again, and so I thought ofsending her something with "AHappy New Year" in it.
Pater. (taking up a card showingan owl in an ivy bush). Why notthis?
Mater. Well that would be better,but then she might think that theowl was intended for a sneer at hersecond husband. And then I alwayslike to keep the happy newyear cards till Christmas is over, asyou can send them afterwards tothe people who have rememberedyou when you have forgottenthem.
Pater. But you wouldn't have"A Merry Christmas," and now youobject to "A Happy New Year."What do you want?
Mater. Can't you get somethingimpersonal?
Pater. (taking up card). Well,here's a yacht in full sail.
Mater. Oh, how cruel! It willremind her of her cousin who waslost at sea!
Pater. (selecting another sketch).Then why not this bouquet offlowers?
Mater. Not for worlds! Onenever knows what the flowers maymean, and we might offend her.
Pater. (trying again). Well, hereis a windmill.
Mater. My dear John, you areabsolutely provoking. A windmillis suggestive of frivolity, and Iwouldn't let Mrs. Brown think thatwe meant that on any account.
Pater. (making another selection).Well, here's a parrot in acage.
Mater. You surely are notserious? Fancy sending such acard! Why, as everyone knowsthat dear Mrs. Brown is rathertalkative, all the world would sayit was an "insult."
Pater. (losing patience). Oh,hang Mrs. Brown!
Mater. I am ashamed of you,John! And I suppose you wouldhang the cards, too! You wouldcurse "Merry Christmas."
Pater. (promptly).