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قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 101, December 12, 1891

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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 101, December 12, 1891

Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 101, December 12, 1891

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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account of the total destruction by a tornado of the town in Canada which was poor TOM's place of exile. "The loss of life," it is added, "has been great, and several Englishmen are amongst the victims." No names are given. Good gracious! If TOM has indeed perished, how am I ever to forgive myself for neglecting him? What must he have thought of me? I curse myself in vain for my—bah! What is the use of telling you this? The same paper informs me, in the elegant language appropriate to these occasions, that "Mr. FIGTREE, Q.C., has been offered, and has accepted, the vacant Lord-Justiceship of Appeal."


AN OPPORTUNITY.—A Lyme Regis Correspondent sends us the following advertisement, found, he says, in the Bridport News; we omit dates and names:—

—— will SELL by AUCTION, Three Fine DAIRY COWS to calve respectfully in Dec., April, and May next. An excellent double-feeding chaff-cutter, &c.

A respectful cow will no doubt fulfil her engagements honorably. "A double-feeding chaff-cutter" ought to be an acquisition to a fast set on a coach at the Derby, though of course his "double-feeding" powers would have to be amply provided for at luncheon time.


"The nearest thing to 'setting the Thames on fire,'" said a quiet traveller by the Underground, "is the announcement which you will now see at the St. James's Park Station:—'A LIGHT HERE FOR NIAGARA.'" "Why," exclaimed an irate passenger to the timid suggestion of the above, "of course it doesn't mean that." Then he added, contemptuously, "Get out!" Which he did.


RUSTICUS EXPECTANS. (NEW POLITICAL VERSION OF AN OLD FABLE.)

RUSTICUS EXPECTANS. (NEW POLITICAL VERSION OF AN OLD FABLE.)


RUSTICUS EXPECTANS;

Or, the New Dumbledumdeary.

"Rusticus expectat, dum defluat amnis; at ille

Labitur, et labetur in omne volubilis ævum."

HORACE.

AIR—"Dumbledumdeary."

In the fall of the year, when M.P.'s were about,

And speeches burst forth like a waterspout,

HODGE took up his bundle, and caught up his staff,

And went for a walk—if you please, don't laugh!—

Singing dumbledumdeary, dumbledumdeary,

Dumble, dumble, dumbledumdee!

Oh, HODGE had put on his bettermost smock,

And wore his billycock gaily a-cock;

For HODGE nowadays is a person of note,

And great Governments bow to the "hind,"—with a vote.

Singing dumbledumdeary, &c.

So he strolled on wi'out dread or fear

Of Squoire or Parson, or County Peer,

For the spouting M.P. and the Liberal Van

Had made of the shock-headed joskin a Man!

Singing dumbledumdeary, &c.

With promises stuffed, and with hope inspired,

HODGE walked, and walked till he felt quite tired;

So he sat himself down on the bank of a stream,

And, falling asleep, dreamed a wonderful dream.

Singing dumbledumdeary, &c.

The old, old stream was no longer the brook

Where he'd angled for minnows with worm and hook;

It swelled and swirled, and its rippling voice

Was changed to loud echoes of platform noise.

Singing dumbledumdeary, &c.

And it seemed to address him, "How long, friend HODGE,

In a smock you will slave, in a pig-stye lodge?

The Town revolts, but the landlord crew

Still rule the rustics. What can you do?"

Singing dumbledumdeary, &c.

"Oh, I can reap, and I can sow;

And I can plough, and I can mow;

And, as Lord RIPON doth treuly say,

I can yarn my eighteen-pence a day!"

Singing dumbledumdeary, &c.

"Oh, that," cried the Voices, "will never do!

HODGE now must have freedom, and comfort too,

And Village Councils, Allotments, and Larks!

Though the Landlords take fright for their Manors and Parks,"

Singing dumbledumdeary, &c.

"No more must he live like a pig in a stye,

Or we (Tory Codlir, Rad Short) will know why.

And if you'll consent just to vote for us now,

We'll put a new tune to your old 'Speed the Plough!'"

Singing dumbledumdeary, &c.

Then HODGE, slightly puzzled, beheld (in his dream)

A legion of faces that flowed with the stream.

"There's two WILLIAMS, and JOEY, and JESSE!" he cried,

"SOLLY, BALFY, and JOKIM talk, too, from the tide,—"

Singing dumbledumdeary, &c.

"They're making a vast sight o' noise, and I fear,

Whilst they all shout together, their meaning's scarce clear.

They all drift one way, though, out yonder I'll sit!

And wait till the shindying slackens a bit."

Singing dumbledumdeary, &c.

So HODGE, like old HORACE's Rustic, still waits

Till the waters flow by, or their turmoil abates;

And then hopes to reach "Happy Home" o'er that stream.

Let us hope that he mayn't find it only a dream!

Singing dumbledumdeary, dumbledumdeary,

Dumble, dumble, dumbledumdee!


THE TRIALS OF AN ANXIOUS 'JUNIOR.'

THE TRIALS OF AN ANXIOUS "JUNIOR."

PROMPTING A DEAF AND TESTY "CHIEF" IN OPEN COURT IS NOT HIS IDEA OF PERFECT BLISS.


"DICK" POWER.

When the House of Commons meets in February, it will find many vacant places. Save, perhaps, on that sacred to the memory of OLD MORALITY, none will draw towards it such sorrowful glances as the bench below the Gangway, where, last Session, DICK POWER's smiling face was found. Everyone in the House knew "DICK," and all liked him—a modest-mannered, merry-hearted man, whom a strange destiny had not only dragged into political life, but, as Whip of the Parnellite Party, had made him the official representative of a body for the most part socially unknown, and disliked with a fervour happily not often imported into Parliamentary warfare. DICK POWER, whilst never swerving by a hair's breadth from loyalty to his colleagues and his leader, so bore himself that he was welcome in any Parliamentary circle, from "GOSSET's Room" to the floor of the House, which he sometimes "took" to deliver a witty speech in support of a Motion for adjourning over the Derby. He was only in his fortieth year, married scarce a fortnight, when comes the blind Fury with the abhorrëd shears and slits the thin-spun thread. "LYCIDAS is dead!"; but he will long be remembered as shedding through seventeen years a genial light on Irish politics, too often obscured by aggressive vulgarity, and the sacrifice of patriotic interests to the ends of personal vanity.


ONLY FANCY!

We are in a position to state that overtures were recently made to a well-known and popular

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