Evans’ Supper Rooms. William S. Brunton (fl. 1859-71. Fun (2 September 1865): 160. Courtesy of the Suzy Covey Comic Book Collection in the George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida. Click on image to enlarge it.
N.B.—“The Cafe part of the Room is Reserved for Continental Parties.
Mr. P. Green (brandishing a snuff-box).— Salve, my dear boys, salve!
The Choristers.— “Blow gentle gales.” Mr. T. C-rl-le [Thomas Carlyle].—Excellent, I tell thee, is Music.
Mr. J. E. Ow-ns — Jesso, jesso!
Mr. T. C-rl-le [Carlyle]. — Excellent, and of quite endless worth, and significance; not to be neglected under stern penalties enforred by Nature herself and the Eternal Veracities. And yet, ach Himmel, if thou wilt but think of it, my bewildered human brother — nay, if thou still canst think, thou, with thy Conservative Reactions, Triple Murders, Atlantic Cables, and other the like portents from the old Song-voices, resonant-prophetic, of bard or king, down, and ever more down, though mere mellifluous cadences and infinite scales chromatic or otherwise, to thy songs, oh! my forlorn brother yonder, what a road have we come!
Mr. H. S-dn-y.— [Sydney]
But it's always best to take things
In a quite sort of way!”
Two Shopboys.—Brayvo,'Arry! Angeore!
Mr. C. D-ck-ns [Charles Dickens] — Chops! I believe you! Why there never were such chops! The poor outcast, as he heard them frizzle, turned mournfully away. Oh, then, are tears which outcasts shed, so sad, so bitter, and so full of woe, that Pharisees themselves might feel a dim remorse and give the footsore tramp a hearty meal!
Mr. W. C-ll-ns [Wilkie Collins].—True! and that reminds me of a story. The old turret clock of Pencrime indicated a quarter to three, when silently and with a stealthy step —— Mr. C. Sloman (sotto voce:). — A literary gent, I see, and when his face I scan, I think you’ll all agree with me, that he's a ‘ansome man, ri fol de rol ——
Mr. H. S-dn-y.— [Sydney] (very loudly indeed).—
But it's always best to take things
In a quite sort of way!”
Three Waiters.—Brayvo, bravvo!
Mr. J. L Toole. — So I said to His Royal Highness ——
Mr. A. Sk-tchl-y.—“No, Brown,” I says “No! You may go a-talking aboul your Highnesses and your Millses,” I ses, “as is parties I don’t ’old with, and you may call me a superstitious old woman,” I ses, “as is rude and imperence, but go there on a Friday,” I ses, is what I will not do.”
Mr. M. F. T-pp-r— [Martin Farquar Tupper] So this is the first time that I have been here, and I do perceive that I am even as a fish out of water for an uncooked mackerel on a plate is a type of fruitless endeavour, and he-that is wise in liis own conceit lacketh modesty and self-estimation.
Mr. J. E. Ow-ns.—Jesso, jesso!
Mr. H. S-dn-y.— [Sydney] (very louder than ever).—
But it's always best to take things
In a quite sort of way!”
A Very Quiet young Man Indeed. — Yes; the chops are as good as any in London; the potatoes are as good as any in London; the stout is as good us any in London; and the place is one of the very few in London where a gentleman can have his suppor in peace; but there is a certain kind of comic singing which I can’t stand. I rather think I shall go away.
The Choristers. — Uprouse ye, then, my merry, merry men,”
A Very Quiet Young Man Indeed.—Ah, here are the boys again! I think I shall stop.
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Last modified 22 February 2016