Punch (72.1877)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI [February 24, 1877.

SEEN FROM A RAILWAY DURING THE LATE FLOODS.

BETSY PRIG TO A CERTAIN PARTY.

What, part with my Party ? No fear ! It is nothing but spite as
suggests it.

If there's love for true Liberal ways ' tis B. Phig's faithful buzzum
as nests it.

But that party's gone awfully wrong under leadership blind and
contrairy,

And rounds on its own blessed Betsy, and goes and confounds her
with Sairey.

Which matters are getting most awkward, and werry much mixed
up and muddled.

Those Blue Books do bother me dreadful, and make me feel flurried
and fuddled,

And as for the Turk's independence, integrity, pride, and all that,
Why the Guv'ment has served 'em like so many nine-pins, and
knocked 'em all flat.

Yet stay, there's one hope. No Coercion! My conjuring terms
ain't all gone.

Though there isn't much left to be fighting for, here is a sort of a bone:
The Turk has met scolding and snubbing, and wolumes of wicked
aspersion,

But let us stand out hard and fast against even "contingent"
coercion.

And ye Liberal lambs who so long loved the lead of my crook and
my flute,

Come rally once more round your Betsy, nor fear that her pipe will
be mute.

While Derby and Salisbury somehow my counsels appear to' ?,mme- . . .

be mockino-• Don't, Betsy conjures you, go dallying with Russia. It s jest

The way as they've talked to the Turk on the quiet is regular
shocking!

Why William could hardly hit harder. And here has B. Prig been
a-praising

Bland Benjamin's much milder ways. Such a right-about turn is
quite crazing.

My Midhat, too, mizzled ! It's awful! And then that there sweet
Constitution!

Will nobody say a good word for it? Gracious! This is retri-
bution !

And here have I been a performin' the patriot superior to party,
And sticking sly pins into Gladstone, and artfully touching up
Harty ;

Coming down on that greedy old Bear every day with a reg'lar good
teaser,

But to find the Conservative Pompey so much like the Liberal

Cbsar !

What, what has become of my Watchwords ? Traditional policy ?

—fled !

The Treaty of Paris ?—the dust of the Pharaohs ain't hardly more

dead ;

ruination,

From Gortschakoff, Gladstone & Co. let B. Prig be your shield
and salvation!

A PLEA FOR A PORTICO.

The Board of Works, as part of its plan for a new thoroughfare
from Tottenham Court Road to Charing Cross, proposes to sweep
away the platform of the famous portico of St. Martin's Church, and,
instead, to stilt up the pillars on pedestals, and to limit the steps to
a break-neck staircase from the church-doors to the face of the portico.

The Vicar writes to protest in the name of the parish—and he
might have added, of Punch. We have not so many good examples
of Palladian architecture in England that we can afford to mutilate
about the best of them.

If St. Martin divided his cloak with the beggar, that is no good
reason for the Saint dividing his portico—which may be symbolised
as his " dickey "—with the Board of Works, who are not beggars,
but choosers, "in this case let Parliament say, " We don't choose."
The refusal may lead to some alteration in the plans, even to some
deviation from the proposed line of street. But what though ?
St. Martin de Tours will but be St. Martin cle Detours ! And the
portico is well worth a circumbendibus.