Humonrs of Poetic Name-Puns.

Otago Witness, Issue 2516, 4 June 1902, Page 70

Humonrs of Poetic Name-Puns.

There are few habits more seductive, or perhaps more dangerous to cultivate, than that of punning on names. Even the greatest of our wits have not always been, proof against the temptation, and certainly a few of these name-puns- which have assumed poetic form are both clever and" amusing. A century or more asco there lived aa eminent ohyeician, Di Lettsom, who invariably signed all his prescriptions "I. Lettsom." This praotice suggested the following lines: — When any patients call in haste, I physics, bleeds, and sweats 'em; If aftei that they choose to die, Why, what cares I? — I Lets 'bm. Even Lord Lyttelton, usually a staid and sober man, perpetrated poetic puns,_ of which tJi£» following tribute to a society beauty, called Lady Browne, is a fair example: — When I was young and debonair The- brownest nymph to me was- fair ; But now I'm old and wiser grown, The fairest nymph to me is Browne. When one of Charles Lamb's friend? once taunted him with his bachelor condition, and as'ced if he would ever summon up courage to beg a lady for her hand and heart, he retorted with these humorous lines: — If e'er I ask n maiden's hand — Sure ;i£ three scruples make a drachm — I tremble le&t she'd sweetly say. " Ye=, thanks, I'll take a little Lamb. Few rr.cii \vro more skilful in this form, of wit than the lato Sir Frank Lockwood r of whom Hip following itory is told. Once when lie was prosecuting two burglars who bore riie poetic names, Flower and Leaves, much to his mrprise the former prisoner w-i-. convicted, while the latter, against whom tho evidence wsa equally strong, was ar-u-aitted. When the verdict was announced, Mr Lockwood, as he then was, scribbled the following lines and sent them us to tiie judjie. Ms Justice dtt>»

"Justice is blind," the maxim says, A-nrl this is -wiry my spirit grieves — J&he's plucked the .Slower beyond .a dotibt, Alasl site's overlooked tlie Leaves. Even the churchyard produces some entertainirvg samples of poetio puns, as witness these lines ±0 the memory of a Mr John Berry^ — How! How! -who's tmrie3 here? John Berry? Is't the younger? Kb, it is the elder-Berry. An elder-Berry buried surely must Eaiiher spring up and live than -turn to thist. Soanay our Berry, -whom -stern death has slauij Be only buried -to rise up again. Early iji last -century there was a Dissenting minister, the Rev. John Onion, whose power of pathos was such that his eloquence wa3 often almost drowned in floods -of tears. This -gift of compelling tears inspired a wit in his congregation to write these lines: — For pathos that car move to tears, One man I'd lay my money on — For surely he's no tears to shed Who weeps not act an 'Onion. When Captain {Hogg, a .notorious bully and braggart in the days of the third George, was challenged to a duel by a man whom he .had grossly insulted, lie failed to put in an appearance at the appointed place, and it. was discovered that he had prudently placed the sea between himself and his challenger. This incident was celebrated by some scathing verses, of which the last was as follows : — Hashei far the Juan is who Hogg's valour lays his stake on, For Hogg would rather fly than iight If but to sa.ve his bacon. The failure of two Irish bankers whose names were 'Going and G-onne suggested the following lines : — Going and -Gonne are now "both one, For Gonne is Going and Going is Gonne! The wedding of a Mr Lyte, whose swarthy fjomplexion -belied his name, to a Miss ITowle, a pretty blonde, gave rise to this humorous verse : — While some assert that black is white, And others swear that wrong is right, A bolder statement still I dare, That Lyte is dark and Fowle is fair. In the churchyard of St. -Giles, Cripplegate, may be seen the following epitaph on a Mi Aire: — Methinks this -was a wondrous death. That Aire should die for want of breath. A slip containing the following lines is raid to have been thrown through the winlow of a prison van at Liverpool, -where, as will be remembered, Mr Hopwood, the recorder, was. as distinguished by his lenient sentences dii criminals as Mr Justice Day by his severity. The lines were olearly inspired by the metre of "Oh ! Mr Porter, what shall I do?": — Oh! Mr Hopwood, what shall I do? They've sent me to the Assizes And I wanted to come to -you; They tell me I shall only have *J3he sentence of a Day, But oh! Mr Hopwood, I'm afraid I've come ._ to stay! The epitaph on "Thomas Churchyard, the poor Court poet," took this quaint form: — Come, Alecto, and lend me thy torch To Mud a Churchyard, in the church-porch ; Poverty and poetry this tomb doth enclose, Therefore, gentlemen, he merry in prose. Some years ago a children's "ball was given at the house of a canon, who wrote to an old friend, a Colonel Noys, to invite him to be present. To this invitation the gallant Colonel sent this witty answer : — You ask me if I'll join your throng Of gay, light-footed girls :nd boys — How can a Canon-ball go off. I'd like to know, -without a Xoys?