Punch (92.1887)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [January 1, 1887.

MR. PUNCH'S PARTY.

New Tear's Eve! The eve of the Juhilee Year!

A merry party is assembled in the Palace of Punch. It is some-
thing like a Party, Punch's Own Party, embracing: the pick of all
parties. And they are enjoying themselves tremendously!

"Look here, Markiss " cries the host, "don't you entirely
monopolise our Hermit of Hawarden. His opinion on Carnarvon's
latest Homeric effort is doubtless superlatively interesting; but he
hasn't given us a song yet. Years ago he used to be great at Nigger
Minstrelsy. "What shall it be, "William? Your old favourite,
' Camp-Town Maces' or ' The Whole. Hog or None' f "

" Why," says the ex-Premier, modestly, putting up his shirt
collars, which have become a trifle limp in the course of the evening
(" O-limpy-'uns," Randolph is heard to murmur, with that air
of resignation which he has recently assumed), " if you don't
mind, I'd rather give you my friend Lord Tennyson's ' Hands all
Pound,' which John Bright has set to music, and Hartington says
it just suits my voice." Whereat Hartington nods pleasantly.

Producing from some mysterious pocket a small bottle, containing
his patent Vocal Vaseline, he takes, as John Moelet facetiously

expresses it, "a suck "at the lemon,"Jand then strikes up this latest
composition. Such a chorus! Joseph Chamberlain puts in a pretty
" seconds." (" If he'd only do it as nicely at St. Stephen's, what
harmony we should have! " whispers Labbt to Gosohen, who is beat-
ing time blandly with a cracker bon-bon.) Sir William Habcotjrt
brings in his basso profondo at the wrong places, and only finds out his
mistake when his leader frowns him down. Then he subsides, and
tries to catch the tune occasionally, but fails. Randolph's tenor
comes out well, but Lord Cross's alto is a trifle feeble, owing, he
says, to the change of weather. Lord Granville hums an accompani-
ment, and Parnell executes a few variations on the original theme.
Morley has got an idea of the tune, but he's a trifle too sharp.
Beoadhtjbst wishes he had brought the marrow-bones and cleavers
with him, but, failing that, he beats time on his knees. Then Ran-
dolph volunteers " The Army and Navy for ever ! Three cheers
for the Ped, White, and Plue ! " arranged as a trio for himself,
W. H. Smith, and Lord Geobge Hamilton. Everybody delighted.

"Bravo, all!" cries Mr. Punch. "'May differences of opinion
never alter iriendship' is an old-fashioned sentiment. You will