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قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103, September 24, 1892
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103, September 24, 1892
river;
Afeared of his faun-face, Arcadians ran;
Unsoothed by the pipes he so deftly could play,
The shepherds and travellers scurried away
From his face by forest or river.
And back to us, sure, comes the great god Pan,
With his pipes from the reeds by the river;
Starting a scare, as the goat-god can,
Making a Man a mere wind-swayed reed,
And moving the mob like a leaf indeed
By a chill wind set a-quiver.
He finds it sport, does our new god Pan
(As did he of the reeds by the river),
To take all the pith from the heart of a man,
To make him a sheep—though a tiger in spring,—
A cruel, remorseless, poor, cowardly thing,
With the whitest of cheeks—and liver!
"Who said I was dead?" laughs the new god Pan
(Laughs till his faun-cheeks quiver),
"I'm still at my work, on a new-fangled plan.
Scare is my business; I think I succeed,
When the Mob at my minstrelsy shakes like a reed,
And I mock, as the pale fools shiver."
Shrill, shrill, shrill, O Pan!
Your Panic-pipes, far from the river!
Deafening shrill, O Poster-Pan!
Turning a man to a timorous brute
With irrational fear. From your frantic flute
Good sense our souls deliver!
Men rush like the Gadaree swine, O Pan!
With contagious fear a-shiver,
They flock like Panurge's poor sheep, O Pan!
What, what shall the merest of manhood quicken
In geese gregarious, panic-stricken
Like frighted fish in the river.
You sneer at the shame of them, Poster-Pan,
Poltroons of the pigeon-liver.
Your placards gibbet them, Poster-Pan,
Who crowd like curs in the cowardly crush,
Who flock like sheep in the brainless rush
With fear or greed a-shiver.
You are half a beast, O new god Pan!
To laugh (as you laughed by the river)
Making a brute-beast out of a man:
The true gods sigh for the cost and pain
Of Civilisation, which seems but vain
When the prey of your Panic shiver!
Footnote 1: (return)Pan, the Arcadian forest and river-god, was held to startle travellers by his sudden and terror-striking appearances. Hence sudden fright, without any visible cause, was ascribed to Pan, and called a Panic fear.
SIR GEORGE AND THE DRAG ON.
By a Writer of Books.
[Sir GEORGE TREVELYAN, speaking to the Institute of Journalists, said that "No one was under the obligation of writing books, unless he was absolutely called to do so by a commanding genius."]
Oh! tell me quickly—not if Planet Mars
Is quite the best for journalistic pars,
Not if the cholera will play Old Harry,
Not why to-day young men don't and won't marry—
For these I do not care. Not to dissemble,
My pen is, as they say, "all of a tremble"—
The pen that once enthralled the myriad crowd,
The pen that critics one and all allowed
Wrote pleasantly and well, was often funny,
The pen that brought renown, and—better—money.
My pen is stilled. That happy time is o'er,
Like that old English King, I smile no more.
Now that Sir (Secretary) GEORGE has spoken,
My fortunes (and alas! my heart) are broken;
For though I may not lack all understanding,
My "genius" cannot claim to be "commanding."
FLOWERY, BUT NOT MEALY-MOUTHED.—To those who suggested that sending troops to compel the barbarous Long-Islanders to be humane would lose Democratic votes, Governor FLOWER is reported to have replied,—"I don't care a —— for votes. I am going to put law-breakers down, and the State in possession of its property." There was an old song, of which the refrain was, "I don't care a —— for the people, But what will the Governor say?" Now we know what the Governor says. 'Tis well said. Henceforth he will be known as The FLOWER of Speech.
PAN THE POSTER.
PAN (chuckling). "HA! HA! WHO SAID THAT I WAS DEAD, AND PANIC-FEAR A THING OF THE ARCADIAN PAST?"
SEA-SIDE ILLS.
(By Our Man Over-bored.)
A Sea S-Idyll on "Board and Residence."
That we hurry out of Town
To the sea,
To be properly done brown,
I'll agree;
But of being nicely done,
There's another way than one—
Viz., the rays, besides of sun,
£ s. d.!
Now, it may be very cheap
For the chap
Who is rich, to pay a heap
For a nap
On a sofa that is prone
To a prominence of bone,
Or a table undergrown,
With a flap;
But a man who has not much
Of the pelf
To distribute freely, such
As myself,
And who's ordered change and rest,
Doubts the change is for the best
When he has to lie undress'd
On a shelf!
No; to slumber on a slant
Till you're floor'd,
Is a luxury I can't
Well afford;
And I'm sad to a degree
That, in Everywhere-on-Sea,
"Board and Residence" should be
Mostly board!
"DISCOVERY OF A NEW SATELLITE TO JUPITER."—Well, why not? Why announce it as if a noted thief had been arrested? "Discovered! Aha! Then this to decide"—cries the Melodramatic Satellite. Poor Jupiter must be uncommonly tired of his old Satellites by this time! How pleased, how delighted, he must be to welcome a new one!
VIEW OF "MARS" AS SEEN THROUGH MR. PUNCH'S TELESCOPE.
MORE LIGHTS!
A Straight Tip and a New Sensation.When anyone now in town requires a change from the De-lights of Home, let him go to See Lights of Home at the Adelphi. Great scene of the Wreck not so great perhaps as some previous sensational Adelphi effects. In such a piece as "the Lights," it is scarcely fair that "the Heavies" should have it nearly all to themselves, but so it is, and the two Light Comedy parts