قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 93, October 15th 1887

تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"

‏اللغة: English

Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 93, October 15th 1887

تقييمك:

No votes yet

المؤلف:

Various

دار النشر: Project Gutenberg

الصفحة رقم: 2

Assistant-Judge of the Mayor's Court. It is rumoured that, acting on the opinion of Mr. R. S. Wright, (with him the Attorney-General) the Court decided not to confirm that appointment. But why all this mystery? What had the Councillors to fear? Obviously, they could be doing nothing wrong if they were sustained by Wright!

JUMPING AT CONCLUSIONS.

"Who's that tiny little Gentleman talking to Mamma, Tom?" "Mr. Scribbins, the Writing Master at our School."
"Ah! I suppose he teaches Short-hand!"

A LORD MAYOR'S DAY IN DUBLIN.

(A Lay of the Criminal Law Amendment Act.)

"Shure it's Balfour would be troublin', meeself Lord Mayor o' Dublin, But every charge he makes I'll meet in fashion you'll call nate; For I'll face the accusation that he brings against the Nation, Attired from head to foot, my boys, in all my robes of State.

"So on with hat and gown, boys, for we're goin' through the town, boys, And you must help your City's Chief to make a real display," Thus Tim Sullivan he cried out, as straightway he did ride out, In civic pomp to near the Court on that eventful day.

And Town Councillors in numbers, woke from their normal slumbers, And, donning gowns and tippets, rose and put on all they knew, And with approbation glancing at the City Marshal, prancing On a hired hack, they followed him, a rather motley crew.

At length the Court they entered, when attention soon was centred, On a squabble that had risen about the Sword and Mace: For some swore they were not able to lie upon the table, Though the Lord Mayor hotly argued it was their proper place.

So when 'twas shown quite plainly, after pushing for it vainly, Beyond the "bar" the civic baubles had to be conveyed, With vow that none should floor them, their guardians upstairs bore them, And in the front seats flaunted them conspicuously displayed.

Then up stood Mr. Carson, quite as quiet as a parson, And read out his indictment with a settled, stone-like face, Till Tim Healy, quick replying, rose then and there, denying That the Counsel for the Crown had a shadow of a case.

And then as legal brother argued each against the other, The while Tim Sullivan reclined in all his civic blaze, O'Donel he looked vexed there, and he seemed somewhat perplexed there, As if the matter struck him as involved in doubtful haze.

But after some reflection, with a soupçon of dejection, He announced that he had settled (though, doubtless, mid some fears He might stir up Balfour's fury), there was no case for a jury. His judgment was received in Court with hearty ringing cheers.

Then, wild with exultation, up rose Mayor and Corporation, And, greeted by the crowd without, were cheered along the way, Til the Mansion House on nearing, the mob cried, 'midst their cheering, A speech they wanted, and would hear what he had got to say.

Then Tim Sullivan he spouted;—the mob they surged and shouted, And the upshot of the speech was this, that if, through legal flaws, By any chance your way you see, to battle with the powers that be, You're hero both and martyr if you break the Saxon's laws.

So it's no use, Balfour, troublin' the Civic powers of Dublin; For if you do, you know that they will meet you just half way; And if fresh accusation you but bring against the Nation, The City shure will answer with another Lord Mayor's Day!

THE REAL GRIEVANCE OFFICE.

(Before Mr. Commissioner Punch.)

An Official of Epping Forest introduced.

The Commissioner. Now, Sir, what can I do for you?

Witness. You can confer a favour upon me, Sir, by correcting some sensational letters and paragraphs on "Deer-Maiming in Epping Forest," that have lately appeared in the newspapers.

The Commissioner. Always pleased to oblige the Corporation. Well, what is it?

Witness. I wish to say, Sir, that deer-shooting in Epping Forest, so far as its guardians are concerned, is not a sport, but a difficult and disagreeable duty?

The Commissioner. A duty?

Witness. Yes, Sir, a duty; because, in fulfilment of an agreement with the late Lords of the Forest Manors (to whom we have to supply annually a certain amount of venison), and in justice to the neighbouring farmers, whose crops are much damaged by the deer, we are obliged to keep down the herd to a fixed limit.

The Commissioner. But how about the stories of the wounded animals that linger and die?

Witness. We have nothing to do with them—we are not in fault. I mean by "we" those who have a right to shoot by the invitation of the proper Authorities.

The Commissioner. But are not the poor animals sometimes wounded?

Witness. Alas, yes! Unhappily the forest is infested by a gang of poachers of the worst type, and it is at their door that any charge of cruelty must be laid. So far as we are concerned, we kill the deer in the most humane manner. We use rifles and bullets, and our guns are excellent shots. As no doubt you will have seen from the report of the City Solicitor, such deer as it has been necessary to kill, have been shot by, or in the presence of, two of the Conservators renowned for their humanity and shooting skill.

The Commissioner. It seems to me that you should put down the poachers.

Witness. We do our best, Sir. You must remember the Corporation has not been in possession very long. We have to protect nearly ten square miles of forest land, close to a city whose population is counted by Millions.

The Commissioner. Very true. Can I do anything more for you?

Witness. Nothing, Sir. Pray accept my thanks for affording me this opportunity of offering an explanation. I trust the explanation is satisfactory?

The Commissioner. Perfectly. (The Witness then withdrew.)

You are here