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قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 104, March 4, 1893

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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 104, March 4, 1893

Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 104, March 4, 1893

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOL. 104.

March 4, 1893.


A BALLAD OF WEALTHY WOOING.

Ah, why, my Love, receive me

With such tip-tilted scorn?

Self-love can scarce retrieve me

From obloquy forlorn;

'Twas not my fault, believe me,

That wealthy I was born.

Of Nature's gifts invidious

I'd choose I know not which;

One might as well be hideous

As shunn'd because he's rich.

O Love, if thou art bitter,

Then death must pleasant be;

I know not which is fitter,

Not I—(or is't "not me"?)

'Tis not that thou abhorrest,

Oh, maid of dainty mould!

The foison of the florist,

The goldsmith's craft of gold;

Nor less than others storest

Rare pelts by furriers sold;

But knowing I adore thee,

And deem all graces thine,

My choicest offerings bore

Just because they are mine.

Then, smile not, dear deceiver,

Keep no kind word for me,

Enough that the receiver

Is thou—(or is it "thee"?)

When others come, how trimly

Thou sett'st thy chatty sail!

For me alone all dimly

Seemeth the sun to fail.

Young Frank he frowneth grimly,

And thou turn'st haughty pale.

'Tis not the taint of "City,"

For here be scores who sport

Their Mayfair manners pretty

In Cop-the-Needle Court.

Ah, chill me not so coolly,

A Crœsus though I be—

The one who loveth truly

I swear is I—(or "me"?)

But what availeth grammar

As taught in straitest schools—

The hammer of the Crammer

Forging Bellona's tools—

Or words that humbly stammer

Regardless of the rules?

And what availeth fretting,

Deep sighs, and dwindling waist,

And what the sad forgetting

Of culinary taste,

Since still thou fondly spurnest

Five hundred thou. (or "thee."?)

And on young Stoney turnest

Love's eye—(or is it "me"?)


Sad Conclusion.—To be virtuous for virtue's sake, without prospect of reward, this is to be good for nothing!



BYE-ELECTION-OLOGY.

Gladys. "Listen, Sibyl. Papa has won a Great Moral Victory——What does a Moral Victory mean exactly?"

Sibyl (who has had more experience). "Oh, it means—well, that we are to be the Victims of Political Economy, and not go to London, after all!"


INDERWICKEDNESS.

"I do not wish to make a joke," Mr. Inderwick, Q.C., is reported to have observed in the course of examining the plaintiff in a divorce case, but, in spite of this pathetic announcement, which passed without any comment from the Judge, the ruling passion was too strong for him, and he continued, "but Artists' models are not always models of virtue, are they?" Not new, not by any means new, of course, but he had apologised beforehand, and he couldn't help it; as the weak heroine, who yields to strong temptation in a French novel or play, usually acknowledges "C'était plus fort que moi." The inflammable materials being in close contact, there was nothing to 'inder-wick from catching fire when in proximity to a spark of genius. Yet so powerfully had the eminent Queen's Counsel's prefatial apology affected the court and the audience, that his saucy sally—(for there is life in the old sally yet, whether in our alley or in this Court)—was not followed by the usually reported "laughter." How was it received? Doubtless with decorous silence and downcast eyes, expressive of sweet memories of dear old jokes made long ago, in happier and brighter times, "when all the world was young."

When a good old joke is again brought into Court with or without apology, instead of its being received with respectful silence, we should like to read that it was greeted with "tears" or "sobs." It would, indeed, not be unbecoming on the part of the Judge if, unable to control his emotion, he had immediately arisen, and, in broken judicial utterances, had adjourned the Court for the day, out of respect to the memory (for old jokes) of the Leader or Junior who had apologetically perpetrated one. Should Mr. Inderwick try this again, the new effect, as above suggested, may be obtained to the satisfaction of all parties, except, maybe, those to the suit, "whom," as one learned brother might say with another, and still profounder apology, "such a proceeding would not suit at all."


LINES ON A LIFE-BELT.

(After Waller's "On a Girdle.")

["According to the evidence of the only two witnesses who sailed with her, no Life-belts were forthcoming, when the Life-belts might have given many of those on board a last chance of life."—The "Times" on the Inquiry into the Wreck of the "Roumania."]

Shipwrecked Passenger loquitur:—

That which would give me ease of mind,

And hope of life, I cannot find.

No monarch but would give his crown

For a Life-belt, when ships go down.

It would relieve extremest fear,

That circlet light, that cork-lined sphere;

But in dark nooks below above,

The careless crew such trifles shove!

A narrow compass, and yet there

Dwells safety, but for want of care.

Give me the Belt, which can't be found,

And I might live, who must be drowned!


A certain noble Lord was supposed to have somewhat disparaged one of his horses on sale by describing him as "a Whistler." James McNeill, "of that ilk," was of opinion that this description, supposing the animal to have been "a genuine Whistler," ought to have increased its value considerably.


The Musical Coster Craze.

Customer. Have you a copy of Costa's Eli?

Shopman. No, Sir; we have none of Chevalier's songs.


Superlative!—The appointment of Mr. Duff, M.P., to be Governor of New South Wales is a "positive" good, seeing that they might have appointed "a comparative Duffer."


LOVELY CHEESE! OR, A WELSH RARE-BIT.

Air"Lovely Night." Dissenting Anti-Church Mice sing:—

Lovely Cheese! Lovely Cheese!

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