Punch (58.1870)

250 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [Jum 18 1870.

A POINT OF VIEW.

Tomkins (he has heard his friend Stodge talk so much about that lovely spot Wohbleswick, whither he was going sketching, that he, ivas
induced to accompany him. A day has elapsed, and he is awaking to the horror of his situation !) " Sebms to me an Infekn-- I call

it rather a DrjLL PLACK ! "

Stodge. " Dhll, my Dear Fellow! How can you Say so? Look at this Bk AnTiFnL, Breezy Common! And the Lines
of those Old Hopses on the Beach, breaking the Horizon, and the Colour ! And the Jolly Quirt of the Place! None
o' vour Beastly Barkel-Organs or Gaping Tourists Swarming about ! I thought you'd Like it ! ! "

SAVOURS OF THE EXCURSION SEASON.

Rich odour yields Syringa bloom ; the blossoms of the thorn
Exhale a potent fragrance m the sunny summer morn ;
Wistaria hath a choice perfume ; the lily and the rose,
As much as they rejoice the eye, do gratify the nose.

The hyacinth's delightful; from the breathing violet
A joy comes watted on the gale; likewise from mignonette.
Delicious is the woodbine, the sweet brier's truly sweet,
But things of scent, for my content, the best, are good to eat.

Of all the flowers in all the bowers, although I love them well,
There's none L deem so nice as steam from kitchen of hotel.
The turtle reek- but words are weak—mock turtle e'en will do.
And, oh ! immense the grateful sense from sniff of Irish stew!

When sage and onions do roast duck, goose, sucking pig proclaim,
What rapture owns not every man that's worthy of the name ?
On -whom does not an ecstasy of blissful transport seize,
When partridge, pheasant, turkey, with aroma load the breeze.

That flower a zest which doth suggest I call the sweetest one ;
It bears its name, by common fame, from turning to the sun.
That may or not be true; no jot about that point care I;
But heliotrope recalls young hope; it smells like cherry pie.

An Experiment on John Bull.

There is every reason to believe that the Fenian invasion of Canada
was concerted by some of the more thoughtful of the Irish Americans,
in the hope that it would induce the British Government to let their
issociates, the political convicts, out of gaol.

NONE SO DEAF AS THOSE THAT WON'T HEAR.

Monsignor Maret, Rishop of Sura, one of the weightiest oppo-
nents of Papal Infallibility, is, or is said to be, very deaf. When he
was speaking against "the Dogma" the other day, he could neither
hear the call to order, or the command to "cut it short," and "shut
up," which followed, from the indignant President of the Council.

The consequence was a scene. What with Monsignor Maret's
disagreeable truths and unwelcome wisdom; the President's vain
attempts to silence him; the applause of Monsignor's friends of the
minority encouraging the orator; and the majority backing up the
President. There seems to have been a regular " row in r,he buildings."
Lay listeners in the Basilica, without the sacred precincts of the
Council, overheard " strange noises"—strange indeed for such a
scene—the majority and minority of the venerable fathers at logger-
heads, if not at fisticuffs.

Nobody seems quite sure whether Monsignor Maret was quite
so deif as he seemed, on this occasion, at least. Reynolds used to
declare that he often found his trumpet his best friend. He had only
to lower it to be beyond tSie reach of bores, fools, or critics. His
friends suspected that his deaf ear was usually on the side of the
remarks he didn't wish to hear. So we have all heard of Nelson
turning his blind eye to the signal of retreat.

But whether Maret be deaf or not, there can be no doubt who is
deaf in the Council: and that is, the majority—and their deafness is
in the ear through which wisdom cries and good counsel finds its way.

the cruelty of field sports.

To kill a hare with greyhounds may be a cruel practice, yet most of
us regard it as a mere matter of course.

An Unmixed Evil.—Neat Gin.