Anthony Trollope

3 books to know Horatian Satire


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absurdly called tau. In the alphabet whence ours comes it had the form of the rude corkscrew of the period, and when it stood alone (which was more than the Phoenicians could always do) signified Tallegal, translated by the learned Dr. Brownrigg, "tanglefoot."

      TABLE D'HOTE, n. A caterer's thrifty concession to the universal passion for irresponsibility.

      Old Paunchinello, freshly wed,

      Took Madam P. to table,

      And there deliriously fed

      As fast as he was able.

      "I dote upon good grub," he cried,

      Intent upon its throatage.

      "Ah, yes," said the neglected bride,

      "You're in your table d'hotage."

      Associated Poets

      TAIL, n. The part of an animal's spine that has transcended its natural limitations to set up an independent existence in a world of its own. Excepting in its foetal state, Man is without a tail, a privation of which he attests an hereditary and uneasy consciousness by the coat-skirt of the male and the train of the female, and by a marked tendency to ornament that part of his attire where the tail should be, and indubitably once was. This tendency is most observable in the female of the species, in whom the ancestral sense is strong and persistent. The tailed men described by Lord Monboddo are now generally regarded as a product of an imagination unusually susceptible to influences generated in the golden age of our pithecan past.

      TAKE, v.t. To acquire, frequently by force but preferably by stealth.

      TALK, v.t. To commit an indiscretion without temptation, from an impulse without purpose.

      TARIFF, n. A scale of taxes on imports, designed to protect the domestic producer against the greed of his consumer.

      The Enemy of Human Souls

      Sat grieving at the cost of coals;

      For Hell had been annexed of late,

      And was a sovereign Southern State.

      "It were no more than right," said he,

      "That I should get my fuel free.

      The duty, neither just nor wise,

      Compels me to economize—

      Whereby my broilers, every one,

      Are execrably underdone.

      What would they have?—although I yearn

      To do them nicely to a turn,

      I can't afford an honest heat.

      This tariff makes even devils cheat!

      I'm ruined, and my humble trade

      All rascals may at will invade:

      Beneath my nose the public press

      Outdoes me in sulphureousness;

      The bar ingeniously applies

      To my undoing my own lies;

      My medicines the doctors use

      (Albeit vainly) to refuse

      To me my fair and rightful prey

      And keep their own in shape to pay;

      The preachers by example teach

      What, scorning to perform, I teach;

      And statesmen, aping me, all make

      More promises than they can break.

      Against such competition I

      Lift up a disregarded cry.

      Since all ignore my just complaint,

      By Hokey-Pokey! I'll turn saint!"

      Now, the Republicans, who all

      Are saints, began at once to bawl

      Against his competition; so

      There was a devil of a go!

      They locked horns with him, tete-a-tete

      In acrimonious debate,

      Till Democrats, forlorn and lone,

      Had hopes of coming by their own.

      That evil to avert, in haste

      The two belligerents embraced;

      But since 'twere wicked to relax

      A tittle of the Sacred Tax,

      'Twas finally agreed to grant

      The bold Insurgent-protestant

      A bounty on each soul that fell

      Into his ineffectual Hell.

      Edam Smith

      TECHNICALITY, n. In an English court a man named Home was tried for slander in having accused his neighbor of murder. His exact words were: "Sir Thomas Holt hath taken a cleaver and stricken his cook upon the head, so that one side of the head fell upon one shoulder and the other side upon the other shoulder." The defendant was acquitted by instruction of the court, the learned judges holding that the words did not charge murder, for they did not affirm the death of the cook, that being only an inference.

      TEDIUM, n. Ennui, the state or condition of one that is bored. Many fanciful derivations of the word have been affirmed, but so high an authority as Father Jape says that it comes from a very obvious source—the first words of the ancient Latin hymn Te Deum Laudamus. In this apparently natural derivation there is something that saddens.

      TEETOTALER, n. One who abstains from strong drink, sometimes totally, sometimes tolerably totally.

      TELEPHONE, n. An invention of the devil which abrogates some of the advantages of making a disagreeable person keep his distance.

      TELESCOPE, n. A device having a relation to the eye similar to that of the telephone to the ear, enabling distant objects to plague us with a multitude of needless details. Luckily it is unprovided with a bell summoning us to the sacrifice.

      TENACITY, n. A certain quality of the human hand in its relation to the coin of the realm. It attains its highest development in the hand of authority and is considered a serviceable equipment for a career in politics. The following illustrative lines were written of a Californian gentleman in high political preferment, who has passed to his accounting:

      Of such tenacity his grip

      That nothing from his hand can slip.

      Well-buttered eels you may o'erwhelm

      In tubs of liquid slippery-elm

      In vain—from his detaining pinch

      They cannot struggle half an inch!

      'Tis lucky that he so is planned

      That breath he draws not with his hand,

      For if he did, so great his greed

      He'd draw his last with eager speed.

      Nay, that were well, you say. Not so

      He'd draw but never let it go!

      THEOSOPHY, n. An ancient faith having all the certitude of religion and all the mystery of science. The modern Theosophist holds, with the Buddhists, that we live an incalculable number of times on this earth, in as many several bodies, because one life is not long enough for our complete spiritual development; that is, a single lifetime does not suffice for us to become as wise and good as we choose to wish to become. To be absolutely wise and good—that is perfection; and the Theosophist is so keen-sighted as to have observed that everything desirous of improvement eventually attains perfection. Less competent observers are disposed to except cats, which seem neither wiser nor better than they were last year. The