Punch (93.1887)

78

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[August 20, 1887.

LONGING FOR A NEW SENSATION.

Jack (a Naughty Boy, who is always in disgrace, and most deservedly). " I say, Effie, do you know what I should like ? I should

like to be accused of something I'd never done ! "

EIRE AND WATER.

( With Ajjolog'es to the Shades of the Authors of
'' Rejected A ddresses.'')

The Fire Fiend was curst with unquenchable
thirst,

And his gnomes to his aid haying beckoned,
From Cornhill to Clapham he flew at a burst,
And furious flames soon arose from the first,

And volumes of smoke from the second.

The Fire Fiend was hungry as Moloch of old,

And knew not the meaning of pity.
The new Edax Rerum ; voraciously bold,
His maw a red gulf that was ready to hold
The calcined remains of a City.

That Phlegethon -gorge might have served as
the grave
Of man and his works altogether;
But Shaw, the new Life-guardsman, sword-
less but brave,
Was ever at hand to extinguish and save,
And hold the .Red Ogre in tether.

The Fire Fiend as usual went at full pelt,
But Shaw at his heels followed faster,

Of leather well tanned were Shaw's boots and
his belt, [melt,

And his helmet was brazen for fear it should
And the Fire Demon knew him as master.

The Fire Fiend possessed a most hideous phiz,

Polyphemus's was not more horrid,
Unkempt and unwashed was that visage of his,
For water that touched it went off withawhiz!
It teas so tremendously torrid.

But Shaw on his enemy kept a cool eye,

Of vigilant valour the symbol.
Affrighted no more by the Fire Demon's cry
Than the squeak of a rat; if the Fire Fiend
was spry,

His opponent was equally nimble.

For Water, Fire's foe, at his hest freely flows,
And the Fire Demon dares not to linger

Whenever his enemy turns on the hose ;

Hestands in muchfearof thisfoeman and those
Who flock at the lift of his finger.

The Fire Fiend has schemes, it is credibly said,

For laying half London in ashes ;
But Water—and Shaw—are the things he

must dread,
And at sight of an engine he shakes his red

head,

And his teeth like a lunatic gnashes.

But his fire-gnomes he multiplies lately so fast
That the task of repressing them 's trying ;

The flare that they make and the heat that
they cast [one blast

Are so great that the Fiend seems resolved in
To set the Metropolis frying.

He blazes and blazes ; Shaw gallops to snatch

His prey from its desperate danger ;
But the Demon's a deuce of a rider to catch,
And it taxes brave Shaw to continue a match
For the fiery noctivagant ranger.

And if London is wise she assistance will call,

For the Water King needs the alliance
Of hands thatare sturdy and limbs that are tall,
To give the Fire Demon a rattling good, fall,
And set all his imps at defiance.

How often his fiery flame-banner outrolled

O'er London our bosoms has shaken!
The Water King never relaxes his hold,
But many a time, if the truth must be told,
We have just, only just, saved our bacon.

The Fire-Fiend's a foe of redoubtable might,

And it takes a stout fighter to floor him;
Yet, in spite of his flames, the ignipotent sprite
Has been licked up to now by our fire-quelling
knight,

Who strides so triumphantly o'er him.

Look! look! 'tis our Water-King; doesn't
he stand

Like Michael, o'ereoming the Dragon ?
Oh! champion braver than he and his band
Of brazen-helmed heroes ne'er fought hand to

Or emptied a flisk or a flagon. [hand,

His sword is an axe, and his spear is a hose,

But Paladins famous in story
For gallantest charges and swashingest blows,
Though demons and dragons they met as
their foes

Were ne'er more deserving of glory.

Back, lurid in air, for another regale,
The Fire-Fiend who's down but not settled,

With fresh bellowsed flame will return
without fail,

And help to oppose him he '11 thankfully hail
Our Water-King manly and mettled.

He is down, but not dead, and his dreadful
red head

He again will be lifting to-morrow.
'Tis Hydrant 'gainst Hydra, and shall it be
said

That for lack of "assistance this demon so
dread

Shall doom the great City to sorrow?

This fierce All-devourer is hungry as Time,
And would wolf all the world as food-fuel.

A champion we have — is his pose not
sublime P—

And so let us help him—to fail were a crime—
To give the Fire Demon his gruel.

Fierce tyrant is Fire, and his foes are too few

For a Fiend so alert and so furious,
Would London be safe, gallant Shaw and his
crew

She must manfully back, and she'll find it
won't do

In this instance to be too penurious.