Punch: Punch (23.1852)

PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARTVART

203

THE BOTTLE-HOLDER AND THE BOTTLE
CONJUROR.

AN ECLOGUE, BY THEOCRITUS PUNCHOVIUS.

Scene.—Pall Mall. Enter the Lord of Broadlands {Hants).
To him the Lord of Huguenden {Bucks).

Lord ofH. Ha! Is it thou, 0 Palmerston of the Pleasant Presence ?
And what dost thou in London, while the pheasant spreads his wings,
courting the pellet ? Thou, happily free from the chains of red tape ?
Nathfdess, well met.

Lord of B, {modestly). Have not the men of Tiverton, sent me, ail
unworthy as I am ? Did I not rejoice their souls with jokes, and dis-
comfit that Rowcliffe, trampling him in the mire of scorn, as I have
trampled many ? The Times reporter had ears, and a swift pen, and
thou canst read, 0 son of the Curiosities of Literature.

Lord of H. Nay, I know thy feats, 0 feared among the Kaisers, and
reverence thy skill in arms. Would {insinuatingly) that we fought side
by side.

Lord of B. {aside). I dare say. {To him) Is anything impossible, O
Asiatic Mystery Man, in these days of marvels, when a Crystal Palace
springs up like a dream, when nations are linked by a whispering wire,
and when a Malmesbury is the Foreign Minister of England ?

Lord of H. I take thy hint, most judicious of bottle-holders. Conceive
that third and greatest marvel no longer existing.

Lord of B. It might be so, and with small wail among men, 0 Mosaic
Arabian. But our talk hath now reached a point where it must either
utterly stop, or proceed in a groove. Or, if thou wilt, there is a third
course. Let us speak of the sweet singers, and the Houris of the
dance Will Lumley of yonder pile re-open its gates ? What of the
Warbling Wagner ?

Lord of H. Misjudge me not, O Jaunty One. When have I spoken
without a meaning—to such as thou, at least, for I count not as
speech the sounds that soothe the territorial dunderheads ? I accept
the groove.

Lord of B. Then answer me, O Adjuster of Burdens. Does the
chivalric noble, the Horse-taming Derby, ratify thy words to me?

Lord of H. Airy Viscount, parlez vous Francais ?

Lord of B. Many to whom this question is addressed will reply, I can
read, write, and understand it, but I cannot speat it. I am not one of
the many.

Lord of H. Then take thy answer, accomplished diplomat. L'Etat—
c'est moi

Lord of B. It is well, 0 Political Biographer. And thy offer ? Must
I correct the grammar of the sagacious Malmesbury, teach the sportive
Walpole that jest is not earnest, or fill the seat of the modest
Pakington, while he departs to whip little boys at Quarter Sesaions.

Lord of H. None joke so well as thou, yet joke not, Terror of the
insolvent Greek. Thou hast but to name thy office, and its present
humble warming-pan warms it no more. I see my groom—shall he
take Malmesbury a message that he is now our Consul in Bulgaria ?

Lord of B, Festina lente, O Vivian Gbey, and mark me. Reasonably
pliable, for this is a world of change, I have that which men call
character. I may have it to lose, but I don't mean to lose it. The
Ministry that has me has a policy. And yours is--?

Lord of H. Of course—can you doubt it, Queller of the Yelpers?
Are we not pledged to constitutional principles, to just and necessary
measures, and to a strict adherence to that course which shall seem best
calculated to promote the benefit of all classes of Her Majesty's
subjects ?

Lord of B, km I & territorial dunderhead, Benjamin of the Mess,
that thou should'st give me thy sonorous because hollow words ? Keep
them for thy bumpkins, and answer me categorically. The nation hath
willed Free Trade. So have I. Are >ou pledged not to oppose
our will?

Lord of H. Personally, 0 Smasher of TJrquharts and Cochranes,
neither I, nor our chiefs dream of assailing Free Trade. But there be
such poor tilings as Christophers and Granbys and Bookers, and
if a few speeches—and what are speeches ?—soothe those souls, and
secure those votes—his heart is harder than thine, 0 kindly Viscount,
who would refuse them that futile consolation. Thou twiggest ? //
faut vivre.

Loid of B. Je ne vois pas la necessity Gladiatorial Benjamin. How-
ever, let us get through the groove. An unconditional pledge to Free
Trade—that is my lowest figure and no abatement at this shoo
D'ye buy?

Lord of E. On credit, yes, ancient and judicious one. Come to us
now—tide us over this session—and in 1854 we will discover Free
Trade was expressly provided by Magna Charta. Is not that constitu-
tional ?

Lord of B. Tick is unconstitutional when principle is at stake, thou
Revolutionary Epict rtus. Mend your bid. Ready money.
Lord of H. {earnestly.) Wouldn't I, but for-

Lord of B. {smiling.) For whom? VFtat, c'est vous.

Lord of H. But for circumstances. I'm a'raid I can't do a bit of
business with you this morning, O patron of Pacifico.

Lord of B. Be not spiteful, Deputy Lieutenant of Bucks, seeing that
we may yet sit at the same council-table. Thou hast that in thee which
will not long brook servitude to boors whom thou scornest, and thy
scorning propensities will anon break out in a fresh place, leaving thee
without aay place at all. In that day, Coningsby, come to my side, and
the seven-fold shield of Ajax shall screea thee, arrow-darting Teucer,
against all the bumpkin Hectors—for I like thy pluck. Meantime,
look to thy Budget, and see that corn, and not chaff, be found in
Benjamin's sack. Au revoir, unless you'll have some Punch a la
Romaine at Grange's.

Lord of H. I love Punch intensely, but if I take it a, la Romaine
and Walpole hears of it, he will tell Derby that I am not a
Protestant, which would be shocking. Adieu, Palmerston of the
Pleasant Presence.

Lord of B. Adieu, Disraeli of the Doubtful Destiny.

Lord of H. {aside). Artful dodger!

Lord of B. {aside). Specious cove ! [_Exeunt.

THE LAST GLIMPSE OF THE MONS.

UNCH sees with regret that
his Mons. Jullien, the
famous Mountain of (Mu-
sical) Light—for he repu-
diates the heavy—the Koh-
i-noor of the Quadrille,
has announced his fare-
well series of Concerts pre-
vious to his departure for
America. It is with a tear
in each eye, and a thousand
kettle-drums in each ear,
that we think over the sad
prospect of a separation
from Jullien. We have
been humming the tune of
" Robin Adair " ever since
we read the melancholy ad-
vertisement, and we have
been asking ourselves in all
sorts of different keys—

What's this dull town to
us ?

Jullien, so rare !
What's this dull town to
us ?

Jullien's not there !

From this monotonous
melody we strike off into another more in conformity with the
characteristics of the Mons., and in a flowing melody we bid—

Farewell to the Mountain, the valse and quadrille,
Of melody the fountain, with neat plaited frill.
Farewell! for so soon will his band disappear,
The cornet and piccolo won't meet our ear;
All so shrill, all so sweet, in a solo they tell,
When played on by Kcbnig, whom all know so well.
Farewell to trombone, the sax horn, and flute,
And e'en the large ophicleide soon must be mute.
Farewell to the Mountain, in splendid gold chair,
Of music the fountain, with nicely oil'd hair :
All so neat, all so smart, there was ne'er such a swell!
Farewell to Mons. Jullien ! Farewell, oh ! Farewell!

Disraeli's Right Hand.

There is a great deal of talk about Lord Palmerston joining the
present Ministry. His accession would certainly be of the greatest
service to Disraeli, especially at the opening of Parliament. As his
Lordship is notoriously " The Judicious Bottleholdeb," he would
be able to hold the Quart Bottle which, according to Sir James
Graham, the Chancellok of the Exchequer has promised to get
into. The only danger is, that when Disraeli is once inside the bottle,
The Judicious Bottleholder may feel inclined to keep him there.

A False Report.

Major Bebesfobd—says the Herald—is not going to Jamaica. All
the better for Jamaica, says Punch!