Punch (18.1850)

94 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

THE FARMER'S TAXED-CART.—EXTRAORDINARY DREAM.

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[We insert the subjoined account of a singular dream, as forwarded
to us by a respectable agriculturist, with a request that Mr. Punch
would " put un into his peaaper if so be he thought 'a was worth a
corner in't, aud had got room for un.5']

" Arter I'd smoked my pipe and drink'd my jug o' beer t'other night,
I veil asleep_ in my arm-chair, and had a dream. Seeminly I was a riuun'
to market in my taxed-cart—you knows what a taxed-cart is, I s'pose
—Taxed!—I dooant know what bain't taxed now-o-days; but no
matter.

" I thought the old smooth road was all broke up, and I was a drivun'
over the bare flint stones without Protection. The cart bumped and
jolted along, and went slower and slower, till at last Blackbird stopped
snort and oudn't go no vurder. I geed un the whip, but 'twarnt o' no
use; and the old boss set to a kickin' ready to knock the trap all to
pieces.

" Thinks I, ' why, i his here looks as if the cart was overloaded, and yet
I can't zee what wi'.' Whereupon my eyes appeared to be opened, and
then I zeed what I'd got in un. In the fust place, a cart-load of gurt
sacks, as I vancied. Wrhen I come to look closer at 'em I found they
was taxes.

" There I z:e the Hop-Ground Tax, and the Hop Duty as well; the
Fruit-Ground Tax, the Malt Tax, the Land Tax, the Poor's Rate, the
Highway Rate, the Church Rate, the County Rate, and I dooan't know

how many moor rates and taxes. ' Dash my buttons !' I sez to myself
'you may well call a carridge like this a Taxed-Cart.'

" But besides all this, lo and behold you, I found I was carryun' com-
pany wi' me. Lookun' over my shoulder—over the right as well as the
left, Mr. Punch !—who should I discover but the Landlord and the
Paason, one o' one side and t'other o' t'other. The Landlord was
squatted on a sack stuffed wi' Rent, and the Paason was a straddle ovet
another cram full o' Tithes.

" 'No wonder,' I heer'd a voice say, 'you can't git on, Farmer.' I
looked out, and there was a stranger, though I thought I recollected a
likeness of un draad in your peeaper.

" ' Hollo!' sez the Landlord, 'here's that feller Cobden—bless him !'

" ' Amen !' answers his Reverence.

"'You're tryin' to goo the old way to the old market,' says the
stranger. ' You can't do it.'

" ' Which is the way, then ? ' sez I.

'"That 'ere tumin' to the right,' a sez, and pints to a finger-pooast
directun' 'To Financial Reeobm.' I turned the bosses headto the
road he show'dme; off started old Blackbird directly full split: the
Paason and the Landlord sung out, ' Stop !' and I woke with their
hollerun', and found 'twas a dream.

" Not all a dream, though, Mr. Punch, and mark my words, you may
'psnd upon't, that what I dreamt—and moor than some folks dreams of
—will afore long come true."

HINT TO THE HUMANE SOCIETY.

The Humane Society dined together last week at the Freemasons'
Tavern. In the course of_ the evening a number of persons who had
been rescued from drowning by the Society marched in procession
through the room. Among the number was the illustrious Soyeb, who,
as the world knows, was nearly "glace en surprise" the otiier day
while skating, and was preserved to culinary and political Refosm by the
Society's means. We notice the appearance of M. SoyebJ for the
purpose of recording the wish that he may have presided, on this occa-
sion, over the preparation of the dinner of a Society that so well de-
served a good one. After saying thus much, we may be excused for

recommending that the Humane Society should extend the sphere of
its operation. Why should its benevolence take an exclusively aquatic
turn? In the metropolis, at least, more persons die by gas than by
water. Let the Society lend its aid in diminishing the mortality occa-
sioned by the sulphuretted hydrogen which is exhaled by our filthy
drains. Or, still keeping to its favourite element, suppose it en-
deavoured to obtain a pure water supply for London. Were the
attempt successful, it would save many additional lives; for such
water as Londoners mostly drink poisons greater numbers than it
drowns.