Punch: Punch (83.1882)

242

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[November 25, 1882,

LORD RANDOM PHAETHON AND OLD SOL NORTHCOTE.

Oh, Randolph, my juvenile Jehu,

’Tis highly amusing to see you
So eager to handle the reins.
Political pert Bailey Junior,

Tigg's tiger was scarcely more puny, or
More like a sparrow—with brains.
With brains, for the hoy was no booby,
And vou ’re not a log or a looby,
Whatever you are, or are- not.

But as for your trying at “ tooling ”
This team—why, it’s funny, as fooling,
But, looked at as business, pure rot.

Young spark, you’re no Sun-god, at present,
You’re bright, andyour brightness seems crescent;

And Stafford’s a slowish Apollo; _

FTe’s shy with the lash, you would lay it on,
Doubtless my dapper young Phaethon,

But—-are you clear, what would follow ?

You ’re “ a smart dasher ’’—like Bailey,

Desire to he “going” it gaily,

F ume when your Phoebus so lingers.

Hand you the ribbons and—well vou’d
Soon fire the world. But, as prelude.

Supposing you burnt your own fingers ?

You ’re not a Phoebus, yet nearly,

Nor e’en an Automedon,— merely
A Parliamentarian Buck.

Don’t chivvy responsible Jehu,

And one of these days we may see you
Aperch on the box-seat—with luck !

Mrs. Rawsbotham tells us her nephew
did not land at Malta, as, in consequence
of there being some illness aboard, his ship
was placed under strict galantine.