Chamberss Edinburgh Journal, No. 434

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Title: Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, No. 434 Volume 17, New Series,
April 24, 1852
Author: Various
Editor: Robert Chambers and William Chambers
Release Date: October 1, 2006 [EBook #19417]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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EDINBURGH JOURNAL ***

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CHAMBERS' EDINBURGH JOURNAL

CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS,
EDITORS OF 'CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE,'
'CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE,' &c.
No. 434. NEW SERIES. SATURDAY, APRIL 24, 1852. PRICE
1-1/2d.

PUFF AND PUSH.
It is said that everything is to be had in London. There is truth enough
in the observation; indeed, rather too much. The conviction that
everything is to be had, whether you are in want of it or not, is forced
upon you with a persistence that becomes oppressive; and you find that,
owing to everything being so abundantly plentiful, there is one thing
which is not to be had, do what you will, though you would like it, have
it if you could--and that one thing is just one day's exemption from the
persecutions of Puff in its myriad shapes and disguises. But it is not to
be allowed; all the agencies that will work at all are pressed into the
service of pushing and puffing traffic; and we are fast becoming, from a
nation of shopkeepers, a nation in a shop. If you walk abroad, it is
between walls swathed in puffs; if you are lucky enough to drive your
gig, you have to 'cut in and out' between square vans of crawling puffs;
if, alighting, you cast your eyes upon the ground, the pavement is
stencilled with puffs; if in an evening stroll you turn your eye towards
the sky, from a paper balloon the clouds drop puffs. You get into an
omnibus, out of the shower, and find yourself among half a score of
others, buried alive in puffs; you give the conductor sixpence, and he
gives you three pennies in change, and you are forced to pocket a puff,
or perhaps two, stamped indelibly on the copper coin of the realm. You
wander out into the country, but the puffs have gone thither before you,
turn in what direction you may; and the green covert, the shady lane,
the barks of columned beeches and speckled birches, of gnarled oaks
and rugged elms--no longer the mysterious haunts of nymphs and
dryads, who have been driven far away by the omnivorous demon of
the shop--are all invaded by Puff, and subdued to the office of his
ministering spirits. Puff, in short, is the monster megatherium of

modern society, who runs rampaging about the world, his broad back in
the air, and his nose on the ground, playing all sorts of ludicrous antics,
doing very little good, beyond filling his own insatiable maw, and
nobody knows how much mischief in accomplishing that.
Push is an animal of a different breed, naturally a thorough-going,
steady, and fast-trotting hack, who mostly keeps in the Queen's
highway, and knows where he is going. Unfortunately, he is given to
break into a gallop now and then; and whenever in this vicious mood, is
pretty sure to take up with Puff, and the two are apt to make wild work
of it when they scamper abroad together. The worst of it is, that nobody
knows which is which of these two termagant tramplers: both are
thoroughly protean creatures, changing shapes and characters, and
assuming a thousand different forms every day; so that it is a task all
but impossible to distinguish one from the other. Hence a man may got
upon the back of either without well knowing whither he will be carried,
or what will be the upshot of his journey.
Dropping our parable, and leaving the supposed animals to run their
indefinite career, let us take a brief glance at some of the curiosities of
the science of Puffing and Pushing--for both are so blended, that it is
impossible to disentangle one from the other--as it is carried on at the
present hour in the metropolis.
The business of the shopkeeper, as well as of all others who have goods
to sell, is of course to dispose of his wares as rapidly as possible, and in
the dearest market. This market he has to create, and he must do it in
one of two ways: either he must succeed
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