Punch: Punch (69.1875)

November 6, 1875.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

185

—" asked them to remember that they had immortal souls, and he prayed to
God he and his dear sisters and brothers would all meet in Paradise."

Now, after so pleasant and pious a sentiment, it is very sad to
hear what followed.

" A number of little boys here began to throw caps at him, when he turned
on them, amidst a scene of great uproar, and began striking them in every
direction with his stick till order was restored."

After this little "divarsion," Me. Sabgent resumed Ms speech,
denouncing Majoe O'Gobman, and declaring (amidst great laughter)
that the Pblnce oe "Wales should succeed Heb Majesty (whom he
requested to vacate the throne), with a view to founding " Balmoral
in Ireland." After quoting Mill's Political Economy and Lord
Chesterfield's Letters, he brought his speech to a quaint conclusion
by observing that—

" He believed in the spirits of the departed coming back to this world, and
hoped no man would wear any colour but green."

A colour, by the way, very appropriate to the believers in Spiri-
tualism.

And yet, after these two meetings, there will be people, Mr.
Punch will be bound to say, who will still declare that Home-Rule
is not a good thing for Ireland!

AUDI ALTERAM PARTEM.

Deae Me. Punch,

Although a Broker myself, I heartily enjoyed your lines
this week, which are true of here and there a case in our calling,
though about as applicable to the great body of Brokers as those I
enclose are to the generality of Clients. The portrait I have
sketched is, however, drawn from nature, and by no means libels a
constantly increasing class, whose little game is " Heads, I win ;
tails, you lose."

Tour highly-tickled reader,

Throgmorton Street, Oct. 29. Faib Play.

MY CLIENT.

"Who hangs about the Courts all day,
And deals in a most reckless way,
With every Broker who will stay ?

My Client!

Who talks a guttural foreign lingo,

And, whilst he wins, still lets the thing go,

Until a panic comes ?—by jingo !

My Client!

Who dabbles in a hundred " specs,"

His Broker's hazards little recks,

And chuckles as he takes large cheques ?

My Client!

Who, when his ventures, " bear "-hugged, quake,
Commissions, quick, a double stake,
Vowing the thing all right to make ?

My Client!

Who, when the threatened crash has come,

And he owes me a stiffish sum,

Fails to turn up—and leaves me glum ?

My Client!

Who, for his "little games " out-lawed,
His pockets rilled with fruits of fraud,
Coolly retires, and lives abroad P

My Client!

ALTER ET IDEM.

{From Broker No. 2.)

Who swaggered down from West End Club,
As fierce as any half-pay " Sub "
Prepared all City Men to snub ?

My Client!

Who, when I gave him sound advice,
And "landed" him on "something nice,"
Declared I'd robbed him in the price ?

My Client!

Who (though, when things were going well,
He took his profits, like a Swell)
Firmly, for loss, declined to " shell" ?

My Client!

Who, on that Panic settling-day,
Just calmly kept himself away,
And left me all his debts to pay ?

My Client!

Whom did I find " Grone out of Town " ?
Whose assets not worth half-a-crown ?
And who 'd done twenty Brokers " brown " ?

My Client!

SOCIAL SLAVERY.

ympathising Me. punch,

Peay let me call your
notice to this paragraph:—■

"The well-known work en-
titled Le Monde Slave, by M.
Leger, has been supplemented
by a very timely volume of
Etudes Slaves, by the same
author."

By " Le Monde " I may
presume the writer means
"Le Beau Monde," to
which I have the honour,
and the labour, to belong.
Although the work may
he well known, I confess
I never read it, for really
I've so many other things
to do. But I perfectly
agree with the title —
\' Le Monde Slave ."' Yes,
indeed ! We slave from
morn till night, and from
year's end to year's end.
It is very fine to say
that Britons never, never,
never will be slaves; but
the fact is that we all of
us, who belong to le beau
monde, live a life of constant slavery, from which we never, never,
never can be free. Noblesse oblige., See how hardly we all slave in
London through the Season; and when the summer ends, we have
the slavery of travelling, when we so want to be quiet, or of
entertaining people whom we so want not to see. Or we have the
hard labour of visiting our relatives, and everybody who is anybody
knows exactly what that means. Then, again, we have to slave to
get our daughters off our hands, and get good places for our sons;
and what with all the daily work and worry of dressing, driving,
dining, and occasionally dancing, I'm sure not even the Negroes in
Cuba are greater slaves than we are, and I wish heartily that some
one would endeavour to emancipate us, and set us free to live exactly
as we like. Meanwhile, believe me,

Tours in thraldom,

Ursula Fitz-Battleaxe.

Ovations and Omelets.

By telegram from Munich we are apprised that:—

" King Louis has declined with thanks to accept an ovation which it was
intended to make in his honour on his arrival in the capital."

There is a disaffected party in Munich who might perhaps have
attempted to render the King oe Bavaeia's ovation in the literal
sense an; egging. In that sense, an ovation differs materially
from an omelet. Omelets, if not sweet, are savoury; but the
ovation with which a Sovereign is likely to be assailed by a rebel-
lious faction might turn out an unsavoury one.

Our Compliments to the Chasseurs d'Afrique.

Balaklava Dinner. October 25.

Qxte le p'tit speech du Babon de Geancey

Fut bien a propos et grandement sense !

Qui ne serait fier d'etre Frangais

En ecoutant le speech de Monsieur de Geancey !

Modus Yivendi between Italy and the Papacy. — Cat - and-
dog.