Notes on the text
Every age has its great resounding names.[Page 276, line 2] Punch Punch, or the London Charivari, was an illustrated periodical founded in 1841 as a vehicle for satire of a radical nature. It became less politicised, and the high quality of its comic articles, cartoons and verse made it a national institution. After a run of 150 years it could no longer compete with newer, more daring publications, and is now defunct, though an attempt was made to revive it in the 1990s.
Of all these deceased cockalorums
The moralising Fénélon,
Michaelangelo and Johnson
(The Doctor) are the most awful bores.
Oh, won’t you come up, come up[Page 276, lines 19-20] store of lines Beetle copies out texts in advance to save up against future punishments. But in “The Impressionists” (Stalky & Co.) Beetle says he cannot pass off a newly-written document as an older one (or the other way round, presumably), because “our ink don’t turn black till next day.” Either Kipling has forgotten this, or King, like Prout in “The Impressionists”, is not expected to notice.
Oh, won’t you come up, come up
Oh, won’t you come up,
Come all the way up,
Come all the way up to Limerick.
their title, the academy of ‘Bran,’ was a conceit to indicate their art of sifting; but it required an Italian prodigality of conceit to have induced these grave scholars to exhibit themselves in the burlesque scenery of a pantomimical academy, for their furniture consists of a mill and a bakehouse; a pulpit for the orator is a hopper, while the learned director sits on a mill-stone; the other seats have the forms of a miller’s dossers, or great panniers, and the backs consist of long shovels used in ovens. The table is a baker’s kneading-trough, and the academician who reads has half his body thrust out of a great bolting sack, with I know not what else for their inkstands and portfolios.[Page 281, line 1] Ap-Howell Ap is a Welsh prefix to a surname, meaning “son of.”
"It was a common story in old Balliol days that an undergraduate who had attended the Master’s lectures on “Natural Religion” thought it the right thing to pose as an unbeliever, and said, “The fact is, Master, I cannot find evidence of a God anywhere.” “You must find one by midnight, or you go down tomorrow,” was the sharp answer that brought the young man to his senses, and discovered a divinity that shaped his ends where it was least expected, in the clear commonsense that would stand no trifling or levity in serious things.Crofts, unlike King, was not a Balliol man. His Oxford college was Brasenose.