قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 102, May 7, 1892
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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 102, May 7, 1892
Times about hus.
They call us "road-tyrants" and rowdies; but, lor! it's all fidgets and fuss.
I'd jest like to scrumplicate some on 'em; ain't got no heye for a lark.
I know 'em; they squawk if we scrummage, and squirm if we makes a remark.
If I spots pooty gurls when out cycling, I tips 'em the haffable nod;
Wy not? If a gent carn't be civil without being scowled at, it's hodd.
Ah! and some on 'em tumble, I tell yer, although they may look a mite shy;
It is only the stuckuppy sort as consider it rude or fie-fie.
We wos snaking along t'other day, reglar clump of hus—BUGGINS and me,
MUNGO 'IGGINS, and BILLY BOLAIR, SAMMY SNIPE, and TOFF JONES, and MICK SHEE;
All the right rorty sort, and no flies; when along comes a gurl on a 'orse.
Well, we spread hout, and started our squeakers, and gave 'er a rouser, in course.
'Orse shied, and backed into a 'edge, and it looked so remarkable rum,
That we couldn't 'elp doing a larf, though the gurl wos pertikler yum-yum;
We wos ready to 'elp, 'owsomever, when hup comes a swell, and he swore,
And—would you believe it, old pal?—went for BUGGINS, and give 'im wot for!!!
Nasty sperrit, old man; nothink sportsmanlike, surely, about sech a hact!
Them's the sort as complains of hus Cyclists, mere crackpots as ain't got no tact.
We all did a guy like greased lightning; you can when you're once on your wheel—
Stout bobbies carn't run down a "Safety," and gurls can do nothink but squeal.
That's where Wheelin' gives yer the pull! Still it's beastly to think a fine sport
And a smart lot of hathleets like hus must be kiboshed by mugs of that sort.
All boko! dear boy, those Times letters! I mean the new barney to carry,
As long as the Slops and the Beaks keep their meddlesome mawleys orf
THE FORCE OF EXAMPLE.
Lady Clara Robinson (née Vere de Vere). "THANKS! HOW IS IT OMNIBUS MEN ARE SO MUCH CIVILLER THAN I'M TOLD THEY USED TO BE?"
Conductor. "YOU SEE, LADY, THERE'S SO MANY DECAYED ARISTOCRACY TRAVELS BY US NOWADAYS, THAT WE PICKS UP THEIR MANNERS!"
SONNET ON THE SOUTH-EASTERN.
(After a Celebrated Model.)
["One can do nothing with Railways. You cannot write sonnets on the South-Eastern."—Mr. Barry Pain, "In the Smoking-Room."]
Earth has not anything to show less fair:
Patient were he of soul who could pass by
A twenty minutes' wait amidst the cry
Of churlish clowns who worn cord jackets wear,
Without one single, solitary swear.
The low, unmeaning grunt, the needless lie,
The prompt "next platform" (which is all my eye),
The choky waiting-room, the smoky air;
Refreshment-bars where nothing nice they keep,
Whose sandwich chokes, whose whiskey makes one ill;
The seatless platforms! Ne'er was gloom so deep!
The truck toe-crusheth at its own sweet will.
Great Scott! are pluck and common-sense asleep,
That the long humbugged Public stands it still?
REDDIE-TURUS SALUTAT.—A good combination of names is to be found in an announcement of a forthcoming Concert at Prince's Hall, Piccadilly, on the evening of May 11, to be given by Mr. CHARLES REDDIE and Mr. A. TAYLOR. Briefly, it might be announced as "A. TAYLOR's REDDIE-made Concert." If REDDIE-money only taken at door, will A. TATYOR give credit? Solvitur ambulando—that is, Walk in, and you'll find out. It is to be play-time for Master JEAN GERARDY, "Master G.," who is going to perform on an Erard piano, when, as his REDDIE-witted companion playfully observes, "The youthful pianist will out-Erard ERARD."
"Call you this Backing your Friends?"
(By a Confused Conservative.)
To stave off Change, and check the loud Rad Rough rage,
Conservatism is as shield and fetter meant;
And now brave BALFOUR votes for Female Suffrage;
And RITCHIE tells us he approves of "Betterment"!
O valiant WESTMINSTER, O warlike WEMYSS,
Is this to be the end of all our dreams?
LA JUSTICE POUR RIRE; OR, WHAT IT HAS NEARLY COME TO.
SCENE—Interior of a Foreign Law Court. Numerous officials in attendance performing their various duties in an apprehensive sort of way. Audience small but determined.
Judge (nervously). Now are we really protected from disturbance?
General in Command of Troops. I think so. The Court House is surrounded by an Army Corps, and the Engineers find that the place has not been undermined to at least a distance of a thousand feet.
Judge (somewhat reassured). Well, now I think we may proceed with the trial. Admit the accused.
[The Prisoner is bowed into the dock, and accommodated with a comfortably cushioned arm-chair.
Prisoner. Good morning. (To Judge.) You can resume your hat.
Judge (bowing to the Prisoner). Accused, I am deeply honoured by your courtesy. I trust you have been comfortable in the State apartments that have been recently supplied to you.
Prisoner (firmly). State apartment! Why it was a prison! You know it, M. le Juge, and you, Gentlemen of the Jury and Witnesses. (The entire audience shudder apprehensively.) And, what is more, my friends outside know it! They know that I was arrested and thrown into prison. Yes, they know that, and will act accordingly.
Judge (tearfully). I am sure none of us wished to offend you!
Members of the Bar (in a breath). Certainly not!
Prisoner. Well, let the trial proceed. I suppose you don't want any evidence. You have heard what I have said. You know that I regret having caused inconvenience to my innocent victims. They would forgive me for my innocent intentions. I only wished to save everybody by blowing everybody up.
The Court generally. Yes, yes!
Prisoner. Well, I have just done. And now what say the Jury? Where are they?
Foreman of the Jury (white with fear). I am, Sir,—very pleased to see you, Sir,—hope you are well, Sir?
Prisoner (condescendingly). Tol lol. And now what do you say? am I Guilty or Not Guilty?
Foreman of the Jury. Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. We will talk it over, Sir—if you don't mind, Sir.
Prisoner. I need not tell you that my friends outside take the greatest possible interest in your proceedings.
Foreman (promptly). Why, yes, Sir! The fact is we have all had anonymous letters daily, saying that we shall be blown out of house and home if we harm you.
Prisoner (laughing). Oh, be under no apprehension. It is merely the circular of my friends. Only a compilation of hints for the guidance of the Gentlemen of the Jury.
Foreman. Just so, Sir. We accepted it in that spirit.
Prisoner. You
