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قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98 February 15, 1890
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, Vol. 98 February 15, 1890
class="i0">"Prigdom's Philistia, though a polished State,
Has not yet learned quite how to recreate.
Gath in the ball-room gathers,
Askelon haunts 'At homes,' but little joy
Bring they to man or matron, girl or boy,
To swells or City-fathers."
AU REVOIR!
Mr. Punch and Mr. J. L. Toole discovered smoking a last cigar.
Mr. P. And so, my dear Johnnie, you are leaving us at once?
Mr. J. L. T. Yes, Sir, but I hope soon to be back again. I am looking forward to the voyage as an excellent digestive to all the luncheons, dinners, and suppers I have been taking for the last five or six weeks.
Mr. P. I have no doubt they have been a little trying—eh, Johnnie?
Mr. J. L. T. And yet, as I have observed in the Upper Crust, "they were very welcome." But, Sir, how did I get through my oratory? Did you notice my speeches at the Garrick and the Savage? Which did you prefer?
Mr. P. I heard the first, and read a report of the second, and can conscientiously declare they were equally good.
Mr. J. L. T. I am glad to hear you say so, Sir. I confess I didn't think there was much to choose between them. And now (with deep emotion), will you excuse my glove?
Mr. P. No; I won't say good-bye; for wherever you may roam, my dear Johnnie, you will have this consolation—you will find me there before you!
"There is now a strong impression that the Money Market has at last tided over the period of tightness."—Daily News, Feb. 4.
THE IMPERIAL SOCIALIST.
A Song of a Strange Development.
Will you walk into my Congress? says the Emperor unto Labour;
Tis the nicest little Congress; I'm inviting many a neighbour.
The way into my Congress by this Rescript I prepare,
And we shall have some curious things to show you—when you're there.
Then won't you, won't you, little International Working-Man?
We've already done a little to improve poor Labour's lot,
Shorten its hours, insure its life, and help to fill its pot.
But the poorer and the weaker yet fall short of the reality
Of "conformity to the principles of Chris-ti-an morality."
Then won't you, &c.
'Tis one of the State's duties, friends, to regulate the time,
The duration and the nature of your work,—a task sublime;
And you'll find we'll do it better, if you only won't resist,
Than that most obnoxious personage, the shouting Socialist.
Then won't you, &c.
I'm an Emperor by profession, but I have my little plan
For improving the position of the German Working-man.
But the International Question stands a little in the way,
So I've asked the Nations to convene—I only hope they may.
Then won't you, &c.
And when they get together they will do—well, we shall see;
But the Socialists shan't have all their own way with Industry.
I recognise the justice of the Workmen's aspirations,
And upon their wants and wishes I would start "negotiations."
Then won't you, &c.
Oh, I know my plan will bring up all the fogies in full blast,
And Coercion and Protection I see looking on aghast.
But I'm game to turn deaf ear to them, if you will only list,
To that latest, strangest birth of time, the Imperial Socialist!
Then won't you, &c.
HOW TO MAKE THE MOST OF IT.
Hints from the Chancellor of the Exchequer's correspondence.
Sir,—If you wish to immortalise yourself as Chancellor of the Exchequer, now is your opportunity. You have a surplus, I believe, of eight or nine millions? This is about the figure required to provide the Members of the London County Council with a moderate-sized palace, not perhaps entirely suited to their exalted dignity, but, at least, sufficient to house them in something like proper and fitting style. A site should be secured on the Embankment, by clearing away Somerset House, and the intervening buildings, including the blocks of the Inner and Middle Temple, which could all be carted away and re-erected further down, say, at Millbank, and on the space thus secured a white marble structure could be reared with an adequately imposing façade facing the river, that would in some slight degree represent the majesty of the illustrious body destined to occupy it. I don't say that nine millions would be enough thoroughly to carry out the design I have in view, but your surplus might serve as a central fund to begin upon, to which Parliament, no doubt, would cheerfully add another five or six millions if required. Such an obvious use for your money, I feel, needs no further argument from yours encouragingly and suggestively,
Sir,—I have several near relatives in the Colonies, with whom I have, owing to the present exorbitant rates for postage, not communicated for many years. This fact has suggested to me that the golden opportunity now offers itself to you of re-uniting family ties, re-opening closed correspondence, restoring natural affection in otherwise hardened breasts, and, in a word, consolidating the Empire, it may be, for countless ages yet unborn. Spend your surplus, Sir, in providing this country and all her dependencies with a farthing postage—mind, not a penny, but a Farthing Postage! I read somewhere that the actual cost to the Government for the transport of letters was at the rate of ten for a penny. Thus your four millions sunk in the enterprise ought to produce you an immediate profit, at least so I make it, of six millions a year. But, profit or no profit, think of the boon to thousands of Englishmen like myself, who could then stand a penny-worth of correspondence in the year, with children with whom now they are unable to communicate, owing to the cruel and crushing charge of fivepence for a single letter. Picture one who, though not close over money matters, and full of love for his offspring, must yet sign himself
Sir,—Have you read Lord Wolseley's article in this month's Harper? He advises a higher rate of pay for the rank and file of the British Army? Verbum sap. You understand. It is clear what you must do with your