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قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, August 3, 1895
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Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, August 3, 1895
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A CORRECT EYE.
Mrs. Brown has bought her Husband twenty yards of native Scotch Homespun, and has sent for the Tailor of the Glen to make him a Suit thereof. The Tailor takes the material, gives a glance at Brown, and is about to depart.
"But look here," says Brown; "you've not taken my Measure!"
Tailor. "Hoot, Man, ye're not deforrm'd!"
YOUNG PRIMROSE'S PARTY.
A Plaint of the Polls.
Air—"Hans Breitmann's Party."
He led it—like a lamb.
It fell in love with a motley thing
They called the Rad Pro-gramme.
They swore that plan to fight for,
Aye, fight till all was Blue;
But when it came unto the Polls,
That Party split in two.
For Progress it was bound;
But all the progress that it made
Was staggering round and round.
The liveliest shindies in the House,
And mockery out-o'-door,
Was all that Party caused, and so
It dwindled more and more.
I tell you it cost him dear.
The Rads he led "rolled into" him
Because he was a Peer:
They tried to knock Bung's spigot in,
The Caineites raised a cheer.
I think that so fine a Party
Never went bust on beer.
They were all "Souse undt Brouse,"[1]
A more divided company
Ne'er wrangled in the House:
They talked of "filling up the cup,"
Vetoing the Vitler's guilt;
But soon they found the pot was full,
And that the cup was spilt.
Although it was not big,
It tried to break the power of beer,
And check the sway of swig!
But soon they found 'twas all in vain,
The brewer they did "cop";
And the company scattered like fighting crowds
When the constable bids them stop.
Where is that Party now?
Where are the lovely golden dreams
Of the Newcastle pow-wow?
Where are the Democratic plans,
The L. C. C.'s delight?
All floated away on a flood of beer
Away—in the Ewigkeit![2]
East Norfolk Election.—When women are stoned by cowardly ruffians, of any party, or, more probably, of no party, it is not a time for jokes. But Mr. Punch wishes he had been there, with a few of his young men and a few revolvers, and then some persons more deserving to be hit might have been hit, and with something sharper than stones. In East Norfolk, during the excitement of an election, it is evidently almost as necessary to carry firearms for self-defence as in any quite uncivilised and savage country—such as Bulgaria, under the government of the brave Ferdinand.
METEOROLOGICAL MISGIVINGS.
Saturday.—How warm it is! Shall go for my holiday somewhere on the sea. A month's cruise on the coast of Norway, perhaps.
Sunday.—What a tremendous gale! Imagine a month of this on the sea. Shall go inland, quite in the country—say to a cottage on Dartmoor.
Monday.—What a dull day! Couldn't stand the country in this gloom. Try Paris.
Tuesday.—A glorious day. Very hot and sunny in Paris now. Shall go to the Lakes.
Wednesday.—Steady rain. Don't like the idea of the Lakes. Always damp and depressing. In this sort of weather better be at Scarborough or Brighton.
Thursday.—Drizzle and mist. No doubt sea fog on coast. Hate sea fog. Better go to a dry place abroad. How about North Italy?
Friday.—What beastly dust everywhere! No good going to a dry, sunny climate. Try Cornwall.
Saturday.—Damp, close day. Couldn't stand much of this. Too enervating. Shall go to the Alps—anywhere up high in the mountain air.
Sunday.—Chilly for the time of year. Probably snowing on the Alps. Very dismal, cowering over a stove in a Swiss inn. What a difficulty this holiday is! Good idea! Will postpone it till the settled weather in the winter.
New adaptation of Ancient Chaff to the Defeated Candidates.—"Does your mother know you're 'Out'?" [N.B.—What view "mother" will take of it depends on "mother's" politics.]
AFTER THE BATTLE.
THE MEETING OF WELLINGTON-S-L-SB-RY AND BLUCHER-CH-MB-RL-N.
TO JULIA, KNIGHT-ERRANT.
["After the noble lord's dinner-party, at which the ladies appeared in their cycling costumes, consisting of ..., the company set off at half-past ten on their bikes for the region between St Paul's and the Tower, where at that hour, except an occasional policeman, hardly a soul is to be seen. Their example is now being generally imitated." People of To-Day.]
Above the city's sleeping head
So as it seemeth to be dead;
And burglars taste a halcyon peace,
Save where the vigilant police,