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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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A REGULAR KNOUT AND KNOUTER!!!


"'Ben' Trovato."—Odd that the French author of such truly Parisian stories as Cœur d'Actrice, L'Amour pour Rire, Flirtage, and others du même genre, should be named "Tillet." There is a "du" before the French author's name, and it is of course proverbial that even a certain person in the Lower House shall have his "due." 'Tis just this, that, as far as name goes, differentiates him from t'other Tillet, "which his Christian name is Ben."


Further Fall in Irish Stocks.

(Vide Daily Papers, Feb. 24, 1893.)

Though mongers of panic, with malice satanic,

The credit of Ireland be troublin',

Home Rule cannot shake her, nor severance break her,

So long as her capital's D(o)ublin.'


Weather Forecast by Mrs. R.—"After this cold snowy weather," she observed, oracularly, "we may expect what they call 'equally obnoxious gales.'"



HISTORY CONTRADICTS ITSELF.

The Misses Roundabout think Tight Skirts a preposterous and extravagant Invention, and appear at Mrs. Weasel's Party in a Simple and Elegant Attire. [Vide "Punch" for Nov. 21, 1857.


PUTTING IT PLEASANTLY.

[Mr. Fowler announced the Government's willingness to appoint "a small Commission" to consider how the City could be amalgamated with the rest of London.]

"Dilly, Dilly, come and be killed!"

Cried good Mrs. Bond to the ducks, in the story.

Conceive with what rapture the victims were thrilled,

And then picture the joy of our Turtle friends, filled

With sweet premonitions of glory!

No little testudinate triflers are these,

Unmindful of doom unforbodingly playing.

The cook's charming manners are likely to please,

But the flash of that knife Snapping Turtles might freeze,

'Tis so strangely suggestive of—slaying.

The civic Brer Terrapin certainly seems

Extremely content with its time-honoured station.

Our "young men" may dream highly optimist dreams,

But Turtledom feareth what Turtledom deems

The perils of—Unification!

"No compulsion, of course, only, darlings, you must!"

That's their reading au fond of the C. C. Cook's attitude.

"'Amalgamate' Us? Doosed cool, most unjust!

Your offer inspires us with dismal distrust,

Your 'Commission' won't move us to gratitude.

"We love the traditions of Old London Town,

We Turtles. Pray leave us alone, and don't bother!

Amalgamate? Nay, on the notion we frown!

Like the lion and lamb we'll together lie down——

When the one is safe inside the other!"

Alack and alas! But the new Mrs. Bond

Means mischief, we fear, with her kind "Dilly, Dilly!"

And well may the Turtles droop fins and despond.

When the snug isolation of which they're so fond,

They must part with at last, willy-nilly!


WAGES.

(A long way after Lord Tennyson.)

["Lord Wolmer ... pointed out that Mr. Gladstone's majority of forty would be wiped out if the 'paid mercenaries' of the Irish-American factions were withdrawn, or were even unable to keep up a steady attendance in the House of Commons."—The Times.

"The proposed Bill to Provide for the Payment of Members of Parliament ... is a bold attempt to transfer to the tax-payers of Great Britain the burden of supporting at Westminster the Irish Nationalist Members."—Ibid.]

Glory of Irishman, glory of orator, going it strong,

Paid by his countrymen's mites from across the Atlantic Sea—

Glory of Pat, to spout, to struggle, right Ireland's old wrong!

Nay, but they aim not at glory, or Home Rule (swears Wolmer, swears he):

Give 'em the glory of living on us and our L. S. D.!

The wages of swells are high; if high wage to a Minister's just.

Shall we have the heart low wages to hard-worked M.P.'s to deny?

Mercenaries? What then are those toffs in high places of trust,

Who live on our golden largess? Will Wolmer inform us just why

We may give wages to Wealth, and not unto Poverty?


"Down Among the Dead Men."

Ebriosus loquitur:—

Silly spook-hunters show a wish to learn

If (hic!) departed spiritsh e'er return!

Did they, I should not have so dry a throttle,

Nor would it cost so mush to—passh the bottle!

Thersh no returning (hic!) of Spiritsh fled,

And (hic!) "dead men"—worsh luck!—continue dead!


Wanted Badly.—A "close time" for Autograph-hunting. Alas! the great—and even the not-so-very-great—are "made game of" all the year round.



PUTTING IT PLEASANTLY!

County Council Cook. "DILLY, DILLY, DILLY! COME AND BE—AMALGAMATED!!"



A TRUSTY KNIGHT.

Tommy (who has undertaken to escort his fair Cousin to see the Hounds draw Covert), "And you know you needn't mind all these Men. It's all right, as you've got another Fellow with you."


MR. PUNCH'S CHILD'S GUIDE TO KNOWLEDGE.

Question. What is a holiday?

Answer. The hard work of that wearisome pursuit known as "pleasure."

Q. To whom are holidays profitable?

A. To the butchers, the pastry-cooks, and last, but certainly not least, the doctors.

Q. What are the ends of holidays?

A. Pills and Bills.

Q. What are pills?

A. The means by which fortunes are made, and in another sense Clubs kept select.

Q. And Bills?

A. Necessary evils laid

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