Punch (9.1845)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

253

DEPOSITING THE PLANS.

the train—the rivals—the race—the coli.isi
— the compromise—the arrival—the sell.

X. The Train.

Bring forth the train ! The train was brought:

In truth 'twas very small indeed ;

Engine and tender, and for speed
One first-class carriage, and I thought
• *Twas meant for me : but I was mad,

Mad as a hatter, when they taught

How that the rival line had bought
The only train that could be had ;
And 'twas in vain for me to pray,
■Or offer any terms to pay.
They put his great-coat on his back ;
They shoved him in—that menial pack !
His carpet bag inside they crammed,
1 he carriage-door was fiercely slammed ;
The plans and sections stowed inside,
" All right I" the eager stoker cried.
Out flew the steam with roar and crash ;
Away !—away !—and on they dash :
'Twas more than rapid—it was rash.

II. The Defiance.

Away !—away !—the train was gone ;
I had no means of getting on :
Town must be reached ere close of day,
Or all our toil be thrown away.
I caught a last glimpse of my foe's
Right thumb extended from his nose :
I heard a peal of savage laughter,
And madly rushed the engine after.
And howled back " Humbug ! "—though, indeed,
Amidst the thundering engine's speed,
Perchance he did not hear nor heed.
' But hark that whistle ! Yes ! by gum,
It is another engine come !
'Tis hired ; a bargain quickly made :
I dare not think how much I paid.
Loud roars the steam !—round go the wheels !
And I am on my rival's heels.

III. The Collision.

Away !—away !—my plans and I ;

We're not more than ten miles behind,

So for a crash I strung my mind—
{ felt 'twas coming by-and-by.
The engineer upon the track

Looked out, and saw red lamps ahead ;
The engine 'twas too late to back,

So he jump'd off, and on we sped.

The steam roared on !—the wheels spun round !_

We seemed to fly aloug the ground.

Against one side my back I braced,

My feet against the other placed ;

1 saw the lamps gleam bright before,—

1 felt a shock—I heard a roar :

Stop !—back her !—ease her ! All in vain ;

We've run into the other train !

IV. The Compromise.

My thoughts came back. Where was I ? Spilt !
And bruised and battered ! But the foe

Was worse than I. It might be guilt
In me to serve a rival so :
I know not ; but this thing I know,

If he was smashed, it served him right :

And there we were, an awful sight—

1 on the embankment, and my foe

Pitched slap into the ditch below

His carriage I'd contrived to smash,

But spoilt my engine in the crash.

What 'a to be done ? The day wears on—

Two precious hours already gone !

And so, lest both should be delayed,

A compromise perforce we made.

My carriage to his engine tied,

We iourney, sulky, side by side.

V. The Arrival.

Onward we went, but rather slow ;
In vain—the pace we could not go.
1 had my rival in my power,
And thought to burke him in that hour :
But better thoughts prevailed.

Amalgamation then I tried ;

But very shortly he replied,
And all my efforts failed.
Down went the sun at half-past five,
In time we hardly may arrive—
1 tried a last appeal.

1 talked the driver from his funk,

And made the willing stoker drunk.
'Twas sad to see him reel
About the tender to and fro ;
But still he made the engine go,
And that was all our need.

And faster, faster by degrees,

Thro' tunnels, past towers, towns and trees,
We flew at headlong speed ;
In vain we urged him to refrain,
For still he stirred and stoked amain.
We swing, we swerve from left to right,
And thro' the darkness of the night

Our sparks fly far and wide—
Oh, never till that breathless hour,
1 knew a drunken stoker's power

Over the folks inside !
Still on, still on we madly swept,
Till, at a turn, the engine leapt

At one spring from the line.
Thank Heaven it happened on a flat,
But as it was, I crushed my hat,

A bran new four-and-nine —
And there we stuck—knee-deep in mire.
We stormed, we swore, we stirred the fire—
But there we were in our despair,
And neither seemed a fig to care

About us or our plans :
With hunger and with bruises faint—•
'Twould raise the dander of a saint,

Much less a mortal man's !
With grim resolve we sat us down,
( For we were thirty miles from town)
In hopeltss certainty of mind—

Even supposing we got there—
The Board of Trade shut up to find ;

Oh. how we both did swear !
When sudden on the neighbouring road
A yellow with four posters showed ;

Ours—ours that chaise must be !
We rush upon the frightened •' hoys."
We knock them off, and, joy of joys !

Spring each to saddle-tree.
Ply, ply the whip, spare not the spur,
Along the Great North Road we skir,

The clocks are striking ten !
'Tis thirty miles in two short hours :
But in a holy cause like ours

Agents are more than men ;
So on, so on with plunge and bound,
Our wills are good, their wind is sound—■

We '11 save our distance still.
But ah ! despite our desperate pluck,
Three quarters past eleven has struck

As we gain Highgate Hill!
The leaders snort, the wheelers reel,
And past the Peacock as we wheel,

Their breath comes short and thick ;
A fall! the leader's wind is broke !
A cab ! a cab ! 'Tis past a joke !

" This, if you do the trick ! "
I waved a flimsy in my hand.
On, through Fleet Street, along the Strand—

There's time the chance to nick ;
'Tis done —we've won, we've reached Whitehall!
But hark what sounds my ear appal!

It is the Horse Guards' clock—
'Tis striking twelve—the hour is past:
Oh, heavy fate ! sold, sold at last!

At twelve the gates they lock !
And we are left outside the door
The standing orders to deplore.