“MR PUNCH.”

Otago Daily Times, Issue 19904, 25 September 1926, Page 12

“MR PUNCH.”

Punch is a national and Imperial institution. Indeed, it would not be too much to say that it belongs to the civilised universe. Its far-flung line of devoted admirers may be disposed to resent revolutionary changes in the London Charivari. Even when an attractive tinge of red colouring was added to Richard Doyle’s immortal frontispiece a murmur of conservative protest was heard. There might be an additional allurement, but Punch did not look quite the same, said the old identities. And now there is a fresh innovation, concerning which there will be—already is—a considerable stir of controversy.

The edict has gone forth that liqnor advertisements, except in the innocent guise of cocoa and kindred beverages, shall henceforth be tabooed in Bouverie street. Mr Agnew, the managing director, whose family name has been associated with Punch from the earliest days, is not in an explanatory mood. He has issued the fiat and refuses to

respond to anxious inquiries for reasons. There is to be no more blazoning ot superfine brands of wines and brandies, no more pictorial presentments of a sprightly old dandy still “going strong? after the passage of a hundred convivial years. Rich revenue is being relin-, quished; for the price of Punch advertisements is said to be almost fabulous. What “Toby,” sitting in eternal solemnity on the old volumes, thinks about the development—what Mr Punch himself thinks about it—who shall mjf The undying grin on the veteran humorist’s face is not quite in touch with the stem notion of banishing the topic of stimulative refreshment. The shades of distinguished men who sat round the famous “mahogany table” in

the middle of last century may lift surprised eyebrows. Thackeray (“dipping his beak in the Gascon wine”)j Mark Lemon, Shirley Brook, Tom Taylor, and other storied celebrities might not quickly appreciate Mr Agnew’s action. “Tempera mutantur, nos et mutamue in illis.”