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قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 105, September 9, 1893
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. 105, September 9, 1893
you give a Richardson or Hayward,
Dame Fortune still will be a trifle wayward;
Though one was sorely missed, and surely no man
Can tell where they'd have been if they'd had Lohmann.
Surrey has had (like every dog) its day,
In 1893, perforce, makes way
For sturdy Yorkshire. Mr. Punch admires
This famous county of the Northern Shires.
For many a season past the worst of luck
Has dogged their steps, though not decreased their pluck;
And though each cricketer may have his likes,
There's not a man who'll not say—Well-played, Tykes!
COPHETUA, L.C.C.
Mr. Grant Allen charges London with being "a squalid village." Sir Lepel Griffin suggests that the "Postprandial Philosopher" must have been dining badly. He—Sir Lepel—contends that "Like the beggar-maid in Mr. Burne-Jones's picture, London is a beautiful woman, fair of face and noble of form, and only needs the transforming hand of some future King Cophetua to strip her of her sordid rags, and clothe her in the lustrous raiment which befits her." This is what 'Arry would call "the straight Griffin"! By all means make Cophetua Chairman of the London County Council—as soon as you find him! Sir Lepel, instead of joining in the parrot-chorus of disparagement, actually says, "The best hope of the regeneration of London is in the County Council"!!! He thinks "it is a mistake" to distrust them, and would hand over to them (says the Daily Chronicle) most of the machinery and material of our municipal life. Quite so. And as the Gryphon (which is much the same thing as Griffin) said to the Mock Turtle (suggestive this of the Civic Corporation), in Alice in Wonderland, Punch would say to Sir Lepel or his problematic Cophetua, "Drive on, old fellow! Don't be all day about it!"
When Alice ventured to say she had never heard of "Uglification," the Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. "What! Never heard of uglifying!" it exclaimed. "You know what to beautify is, I suppose?"—"Yes," said Alice, doubtfully; "it means—to—make—anything—prettier."—"Well, then," the Gryphon (who must have been a Postprandial Philosopher, surely) went on, "if you don't know what to uglify is, you must be a simpleton."
By the way, why should not Sir Lepel himself essay the rôle of King Cophetua, L.C.C., and help to beautify the modern Babylonian beggar-maid? He says that "the general administration of London is infinitely mean and inefficient," adding that "vested interests are chiefly to blame for the national disgrace." Very well. Let Sir Lepel help to give those same Vested Interests "vun in the veskit," squelch the Jerry Builder, and arrest the march of "Uglification," and then—why then London will, as in duty bound, erect his statue in place, and on the site of, that other, and very different "Griffin," which is the very incarnation of Uglification, and material embodiment of Bœotian Bumbledom!
Not the Girl for Hot Weather.—One who "makes sunshine in a shady place."
LITTLE BILL-EE.
(Latest House of Lords' Version of Thackeray's Song.)
There were three sailors of London City,
Who took a boat and went to sea:
There was guzzling Bob and gorging Harty,
And the youngest—he was Little Bill-ee!
Poor Little Bill-ee was but a sailor-boy,
And a very hard time in sooth had he.
With a rope's-end he was fully familiar,
And a marline-spike he shuddered to see.
He had sailed in the ship of one Captain Willyum.
Who had taught him sailing, and algebree,
The use of the sextant, and navigation,
Likewise the hornpipe, and fiddle-de-dee.
The Captain's pet for a long, long voyage
Had been this sailor-boy Little Bill-ee;
Though some of the crew of the same were jealous,
And larruped him sore—on the strict Q.T.
But being paid off from Willyum's wessel,
The kid was kidnapped, and taken to sea
By guzzling Bob and gorging Harty,
Who had long had their eye on poor Little Bill-ee.
For guzzling Bob hated Captain Willyum,
While gorging Harty—well, there, you see,
He'd been Willyum's mate, but had cut the connection,
And he couldn't abide poor Little Bill-ee.
Poor Little Bill-ee, he shrank and shuddered
At going aboard; for he says, says he—
"When they get me aloft they will spifflicate me,
And there'll be an end of poor little Bill-ee!"
Which same seemed a sad foregone conclusion,
Though Captain Willyum he skipped with glee,
And cried, "Little Bill-ee, keep up your pecker!
You shall yet be the Captain of a Seventy-three!"
Now, to keep up your pecker with naught to peck at
Is mighty hard, as a fool may see;
And Bob and Harty (who loved not short commons)
Cast eager eyes upon Little Bill-ee.
Says guzzling Bob to gorging Harty,
"I am extremely hungaree;"
To guzzling Bob says gorging Harty,
"Let's make a breakfast of Little Bill-ee.
"He's got no friends—that are worth the mention;
He'll never be missed by his countaree,
He is a noosance, he'll be a riddance,
And we'll both get thanked for devouring he."
To guzzling Bob says gorging Harty,
"On this here pint we both agree—
This precious Bill must be spifflicated,
And we're both hungry, so let's eat he!"
"Oh, Bill-ee! we're going to kill and eat you,
So undo the button of your chemie!"
When Bill received this information,