Punch (55.1868)

146

PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[October 3, 1868.

A CHANGE IN THE WEATHER.

Paterfamilias (with a sigh : his family have, been to Boulogne for the holidays). “ It's all up ! ”

Bachelor Friend (who has enjoyed these little Dinners). “ What ’s' the Matter ?”

Paterfamilias. “Telegram ! She says they’ve Arrived save at Folkestone, and will be Home about 10-30 !”

THE METROPOLITAN RAILWAY MONITOR.

If you want to go from the City to Hammersmith, and are near
the Moorgate Station, whence the trains start regularly every
twenty minutes, go by rail. Otherwise, get into a ’bus. _ It is practi-
cally the quicker way. Unless you carry a time-table in your head,
and know exactly when your train is due, you may be a little too late,
and have to wait for the next. If you don’t keep a sharp look-out,
you will miss that.

When you do travel by the Metropolitan Railway, mind these direc-
tions. Take a third-class ticket. Anyhow, never take a first. The
second and third class carriages are obvious ; the first you may have
to run up or down for. At intermediate stations the train sometimes
stops only a few seconds ; and, if you don’t jump hr at once, will be off
without you.

As you will find no one on the platform who can or will give you
any information, always get into the first train that arrives. Hold the
carriage door. open until the Guard comes to shut it, and then shout
out your destination. If you are right for it, he will most likely tell
you ; if you are not, you can get out again.

In like manner, if you are bound for any other station than the_ ter-
minus, open the door at every one you come to, and ask which it is.
You will thus probably succeed in getting an answer.

Unless you are so familiar with the hue as to be able to recognise
every station at a glance, you will scarcely ever know which is which.
The porters still continue to shout “ Oosh! Oosh! ” for Shepherd’s
! Bush, and “Nil! Nil!” (which of course is nothing) for Notting
Hill; never articulating the name of any station. The Gaulois, the j
other day, stated that the town of Gerond had made a pronunciamento.
Unhappily, that is never done by the attendants of the Metropolitan
Railway.

This indistinctness is all the more remarkable from its contrast with
! the particularly clearvoices of the newsboys. “ Times, Pall Mall Gazette, \
Daily Telegraph, Standard, Star, Punch l ” you hear these youths sing |

out as loud and plain as any cathedral canon could possibly intone the
service. Of course. They are paid to sell the papers. They are
interested hi making themselves heard.

As you can seldom hear, so neither can you hardly ever see, on the
Metropolitan line, the name of the station which your train has stopped
at. It is posted up on a single board, so that the chances against your
catching a sight of it are numerous.

Once, again, then, take care to open the door every time your train
stops, and keep bawling, “ Hoy ! What station is this ? ” till you are told.

However, the Metropolitan Railway is, as lago says of wine, “ A good
familiar creature, if it be well used.” At any rate, it is an institution
commendable in one respect, as being eminently calculated to foster
habits of vigilance, activity, and self-help.

Our Old Friend.

Mrs. Malaprop is full of the Elections. Her opinions, sue says,
with some confusion in her mind between plums and politics, are
Preservative, and she is for the Irish Church, having a cousin who is
an Archdeacon’s Apparition. She is certain something dreadful wilL
happen to that Gladstone, who, she hears, has crossed the Rubicund,
and is perspiring with Bright and the Radicals. She has no patience
with women wanting to have votes, and is delighted that the Reviving
Banisters refused them the Prances. Mrs. M. reads the foreign news,
as you may be sure when you hear that she talks about the Bonbons
being driven out of Spain._

“ LAND RATS AND WATER RATS.”

Boy in the Surrey Gallery. “ I'll have your rats ! ”

Glasses Round.—Those worn in the eye.

A Firm Conviction.—Transportation for Life.