DOI Heft:
May 1, 1880
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17763#0198
193
Mat 1, 1880.] PUNCH, OR, THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
A YOUNG DARWINIAN.
Jack (to liis Married Sister). “ Hi ! Polly ! ! Look ! ! ! Here’s your Baby trying
TO WALK ON ITS HlND LEGS ! ! ! ! ”
THE LATE STAR-SHOWER.
By some strange oversight the following
persons have not been gazetted to the
honours attached to their names by recom-
mendation of the Right Hon. the Earl of
Beaconsfield, on retiring from office.
'To he Knights of the Star of India.—All
the swarthy Crossing-sweepers found within
a radius of four miles of the Oriental Club,
on account of their former services in
British India.
To he Companions of the Bath (Civil
Division).—Forty of the politest of the
Attendants of the Metropolitan Wash-
houses, on account of their services in pro-
moting purity of election.
To he a Knight Grand Cross of St.
Michael and St. George.—The Senior Holder
of Her Majesty’s Ticket of Leave, on account
of services rendered in the Colony of Hew
South Wales some forty years ago.
To he a Baronet of the British Empire.—
An unfortunate Nobleman, recently lan-
guishing at Dartmoor, on account of services
rendered to daily journalism from 1868 to
1872.
And to he a Knight Bachelor.—The Chief
Assistant to the Deputy Beadle of the Bur-
lington Arcade, to prevent jealousy, and
because he may as well he decorated as any
one else!
Two Brews—Bitter and Sweet.
Thrice quenched, the Allsopps’ sun had
set,
But Fortune, favouring Beer,
Makes Hindlip’s butt a Baronet,
And Dublin’s Stout a Beer!
If Bass, thrice victor, lags behind,
The Whigs, like Fortune, must he blind!
“the last man.”
The Parliament is now complete. Orkney
and Shetland have returned their Member.
It will now he apparent, even to the meanest
capacity, why these islands are called Ultima
Thule.
THE LAST SURPRISE.
(A Resignation Romance.
“ The Queen has been graciously pleased to confer a Peerage of the United
Kingdom on Mr. Montagu Corky, C.B., by the style and title of Baron
Roavton, of Rowton Castle, in the county of Salop.”—Court Circular.
“ That will he all, mv Lords and Gentlemen.”
It was the Premier who spoke ; and as, with satiric emphasis npon
the concluding word, he pointed to the door of his official chamber,
there was not a Member of the expiring Cabinet who did not recall,
as if by instinct, the easy insolence that once triumphed at Berlin.
They were visibly nettled, and their first impulse as men was to
select their hats with icy indifference, and leave their leader to his
reflections. But they were something more than men. They were
place-men. Nor was this all. They were place-men who had not
made a particularly good thing of it. At an hour like this the con-
sciousness of such a fact came upon them with a force that defied
control. They hesitated. Then they summoned courage and pushed
forward their now weeping spokesman.
. “To he an ordinary member of the Second Class of the Most Dis-
tinguished Order of St. Michael and St. George, is extremely small
beer, yet this is the sort of thing you offer your tried and trusted
friends.”
It was a respectable, middle-aged Statesman who spoke. He held
a copy of the previous evening’s London Gazette, on which his tears
were falling.freely, and his voice was thick with emotion. But the
contempt with which he alluded to the great Colonial distinction
was_ almost appalling. His late Chief eyed him sardonically, yet
curiously. Then he again pointed to the open door.
“ There will he a few home pickings for the rest of yon!” he
rejoined, coldly. “ So once more, my Lords and Gentlemen, good
**■■**■**
Late that evening the Maehiavelli of his Country woke up with a
start befor his dying Buckinghamshire fire. His face was white
with the terror of nightmare ; and, with a loud laugh, that startled
suddenly to his feet his Private Secretary asleep^ on the opposite
side of the rug, he seized a map of the County of Salop, and struck
it with his clenched fist.
“They say I have been niggardly!” he shouted, till the old
rafters of Hughenden echoed again. “Niggardly! And they are
right! Monty, my boy, do yon know what I mean to do for
you f ”
His companion regarded him sadly. “I haven’t the slightest
idea.” he said.
“You haven’t?” asked the great mystificator, his eye kindling
with a sense of ironical humour. “ Then, I have ! ”
And, with a smile in which demon and angel were strangely
blended, the master spirit of his time launched his last surprise,—
“You’ll laugh, Monty, my hoy, but, by Jove! it’s a fact—I'm
going to make you a Peer ! ”
The Two Voices.
(By an ex-Minister.)
"When my voice and the voice of the people agree, I
Feel bound to proclaim it the only Vox Dei.
But when my voice opposes the cry of the rabble, I
Vox Dei am forced to pronounce Vox Diahoh
BY ROYAL INVITATION.
Atlas has once more taken the world on his shoulders ; Gladstone
is himself again—Prime Minister of England!
Mat 1, 1880.] PUNCH, OR, THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
A YOUNG DARWINIAN.
Jack (to liis Married Sister). “ Hi ! Polly ! ! Look ! ! ! Here’s your Baby trying
TO WALK ON ITS HlND LEGS ! ! ! ! ”
THE LATE STAR-SHOWER.
By some strange oversight the following
persons have not been gazetted to the
honours attached to their names by recom-
mendation of the Right Hon. the Earl of
Beaconsfield, on retiring from office.
'To he Knights of the Star of India.—All
the swarthy Crossing-sweepers found within
a radius of four miles of the Oriental Club,
on account of their former services in
British India.
To he Companions of the Bath (Civil
Division).—Forty of the politest of the
Attendants of the Metropolitan Wash-
houses, on account of their services in pro-
moting purity of election.
To he a Knight Grand Cross of St.
Michael and St. George.—The Senior Holder
of Her Majesty’s Ticket of Leave, on account
of services rendered in the Colony of Hew
South Wales some forty years ago.
To he a Baronet of the British Empire.—
An unfortunate Nobleman, recently lan-
guishing at Dartmoor, on account of services
rendered to daily journalism from 1868 to
1872.
And to he a Knight Bachelor.—The Chief
Assistant to the Deputy Beadle of the Bur-
lington Arcade, to prevent jealousy, and
because he may as well he decorated as any
one else!
Two Brews—Bitter and Sweet.
Thrice quenched, the Allsopps’ sun had
set,
But Fortune, favouring Beer,
Makes Hindlip’s butt a Baronet,
And Dublin’s Stout a Beer!
If Bass, thrice victor, lags behind,
The Whigs, like Fortune, must he blind!
“the last man.”
The Parliament is now complete. Orkney
and Shetland have returned their Member.
It will now he apparent, even to the meanest
capacity, why these islands are called Ultima
Thule.
THE LAST SURPRISE.
(A Resignation Romance.
“ The Queen has been graciously pleased to confer a Peerage of the United
Kingdom on Mr. Montagu Corky, C.B., by the style and title of Baron
Roavton, of Rowton Castle, in the county of Salop.”—Court Circular.
“ That will he all, mv Lords and Gentlemen.”
It was the Premier who spoke ; and as, with satiric emphasis npon
the concluding word, he pointed to the door of his official chamber,
there was not a Member of the expiring Cabinet who did not recall,
as if by instinct, the easy insolence that once triumphed at Berlin.
They were visibly nettled, and their first impulse as men was to
select their hats with icy indifference, and leave their leader to his
reflections. But they were something more than men. They were
place-men. Nor was this all. They were place-men who had not
made a particularly good thing of it. At an hour like this the con-
sciousness of such a fact came upon them with a force that defied
control. They hesitated. Then they summoned courage and pushed
forward their now weeping spokesman.
. “To he an ordinary member of the Second Class of the Most Dis-
tinguished Order of St. Michael and St. George, is extremely small
beer, yet this is the sort of thing you offer your tried and trusted
friends.”
It was a respectable, middle-aged Statesman who spoke. He held
a copy of the previous evening’s London Gazette, on which his tears
were falling.freely, and his voice was thick with emotion. But the
contempt with which he alluded to the great Colonial distinction
was_ almost appalling. His late Chief eyed him sardonically, yet
curiously. Then he again pointed to the open door.
“ There will he a few home pickings for the rest of yon!” he
rejoined, coldly. “ So once more, my Lords and Gentlemen, good
**■■**■**
Late that evening the Maehiavelli of his Country woke up with a
start befor his dying Buckinghamshire fire. His face was white
with the terror of nightmare ; and, with a loud laugh, that startled
suddenly to his feet his Private Secretary asleep^ on the opposite
side of the rug, he seized a map of the County of Salop, and struck
it with his clenched fist.
“They say I have been niggardly!” he shouted, till the old
rafters of Hughenden echoed again. “Niggardly! And they are
right! Monty, my boy, do yon know what I mean to do for
you f ”
His companion regarded him sadly. “I haven’t the slightest
idea.” he said.
“You haven’t?” asked the great mystificator, his eye kindling
with a sense of ironical humour. “ Then, I have ! ”
And, with a smile in which demon and angel were strangely
blended, the master spirit of his time launched his last surprise,—
“You’ll laugh, Monty, my hoy, but, by Jove! it’s a fact—I'm
going to make you a Peer ! ”
The Two Voices.
(By an ex-Minister.)
"When my voice and the voice of the people agree, I
Feel bound to proclaim it the only Vox Dei.
But when my voice opposes the cry of the rabble, I
Vox Dei am forced to pronounce Vox Diahoh
BY ROYAL INVITATION.
Atlas has once more taken the world on his shoulders ; Gladstone
is himself again—Prime Minister of England!