Punch (24.1853)

212

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

turns the wheel!) The day wears; the sinking sun glows with
a solemn good-night; and the hearts of the lovers are touched and
softened, yea, glorified by the hour-. (Still, still turns the wheel!)
The pdgrims reach their destined place. They see _ the sign, and are
buried with the thoughts of supper; and final, blissful rest. (How
softly, musically turns the wheel!) The resting-place is reached. (Stops
the wheel!) The money-bag is light; the money-bag has a hole in it;
for still and still, turning and turning, the Hole in the Money-Bag has
been ground by the wheel. And thus, my beloved "—and the preacher
kissed me again—"thus, thoughtless, careless of the future; insolent

in our wealth, we may travel onward, the hole in the money-bag—whilst
we sport and jest, and play the wanton,—the Hole in the Money-Bag
being worn by Fortune's wheel! "

" That's very true," said L " And what's to be done then, Fred ? "

" What! Why never look behind; never travel back, hoping to pick
up the pieces that are inevitably gone;—D-it better taught, go on and
on, resolving for the future that—however gay and happy the season—
you '11 always keep your eye upon the wheel."

" And this is your sermon ? " said I.

" And thus I kiss the book," said Fred ; and so he did.

THE DILLY AND THE D'S." (AN APOLOGUE OF THE OXFORD INSTALLATION J

By S—l W—rr—n, q.S, LL.D., F.R.S.

Part First.

Oh, Spirit! Spirit of Literature,
Alien to Law!

Oh, Muse! ungracious to thy sterner

sister, Themis,
Whither away ?—Away !
Far from my brief—
Brief with a fee upon it,
Tremendous!

A word ! A magic word—

" THE DILLY ! " - " The Derby

DILLY ! "
Oh Diily ! Dilly !—all thy passengers
Are outsiders—
The road is rough and rutty—
And thy driver, like Nimshi's son—
Driveth
Furiously '

And probably—before the business is con-1 And the cad upon the monkey-board,

eluded— i The monkey-board behind,

A Refresher—nay, several! ! Scorneth the drag—but goes

Whither whirlest thou thy thrall ?—
Thy willing thrall?
" Now and Then ; "
But not just at this moment,
If you please, Spirit!
No, let me read and ponder on
The Pleadings.
Declaration!

Downhill like mad.
He hath a Caucasian brow !
A son of Shem is he,
Not of Ham—
Nor Japheth—
In fact a Jew—
But see, the pace

Grows faster—and more fast—in fact—

Plea ! ! I may say

Replication ! ! ! A case of Furious driving '

Rejoinder ! ! ! !

Surrejoinder ! ! ! ! !

Rebutter !!!!!!

Surrebutter !!!!!!!

ETC! ETC!! ETC ! !!

It may not be. The Muse—

As ladies often are—

Though lovely, is obstinate,

And will have her own way!
* * * *

And am I not
As well as a Q.S.,
An F.R.S,
And LL.D. ?

Ask Blackwood

The reason why, and he will tell you;
So will the Mayor—
The Mayor oj? Hull !
I obey, Spirit.

Hang my brief—'tis gone !—

To-morrow let my junior cram me in Court.

Whither away ? Where am I ?

What is it I behold ?

In space, or out of space ? I know not.

In fact,

I've not the least idea, if I'm crazy.

Or sprung—sprung ?

I've only had a pint of Port at dinner,

And can't be sprung—

Oh, no !■—Shame on the thought!

I see a coach !—

Is it a coach ?

Not exactly.

Yet it has wheels—

Wheels within wheels—and on the box

A driver, and a cad behind,

And Horses—Horses F—

Bethink thee—Worm!—

Are they 1 torses ? or that race

Lower than Horses, but with longer ears

And less intelligence—

In fact—" equi asini"

Or in vernacular,

JACKASSES ?

'Tis not a coach—exactly—

Now I see on the panels—

"Pricked out, and flourished—

Take care, you 'II be upset-
Look out !

Holloa !

* * * *

Horrible ! Horrible ! ! Horrible ! ! !
The Dilly—

With all its precious freight
Of men and Manners—
Is gone !—
Gone to immortal
SMASH !

Pick up the pieces ! Let me wipe my eyes !
Oh Muse—lend me thy scroll
To do it with, for I have lost
My wipe !

Part Second.

* * * Again upon the road—
The road to where ?
To nowhere in particular !
Ah, no—I thank thee, Muse-
That hint—'tis a finger-post,
And "he that runs may read"—
He that runs ?
But I am not running—
7.. am riding—

How came I here ?—what am I riding on ?
Who are my fellow passengers ?
Ah, ha ! _

I recognise them now !
The Coach—
The Box—
The Driver—
And the Cad—

I'm oh the Dilly, and the Dilly

Is on the road again !

And now I see

That finger-post !

It saith

"To Oxford

Fifty-two mfies ;"

And, Hark, a chorus !

From all the joyous load,

Driver and Cad, and all!

" We go," they sing—

" To Oxford to ee doctored."

To be Doctored ?

Then, wherefore

Are ye so cheerful ?

I was not cheerful in my early days—

Days of my buoyant boyhood—

When, after inglutition

Of too much

Christmas pudding,

Or Twelfth cake saccharine,

I went, as we go now,

To be Doctored !

Salts !

Senna and Rhubarb ! !
Jalap and Ipecacuanha ! ! !
And Antimonial Wine ! ! ! !
" Worm !
Idiot ! !
DONKEY! ! ! "
Said the free-spoken Muse.
" With them thou goest to be doctored, too,
Not in medicine—but in Law—
All these—and thou—
Are going to be made
Honokary
LL. D.'s !
Behold !

And know thy company—
Be thou familiar with them,
But by no means vulgar—
For familiarity breeds contempt;
And no man is a hero
To his valet-de-chambre !
So ponder and perpend."
DERBY!
The wise, the meek, the chivalrous-
Mirror of knightly graces
And dady dodges ;
Who always says the right thing
At the right time,
And never

Forgets himself as others—

Nor changes his side,

Nor Ms opinion—

A Stanley to the core, as ready

To fight,

As erst on Flodden Field
His mail-clad ancestor.—
See the poem
Of Marmion,
By Sir Walter Scott !
DIZZY!
Dark— supple—subtle—
With mind lithe as the limbs
Of Ishmael's sons, his swart progeni

, tors—
With tongue sharp as the spear
That o'er Sahara
Flings the blue shadow
Of the crown of ostrich featners—
As described so graphically
By Layard, in his recent book
On Nineveh !
With tongue as sharp
As aspic's tooth of Nnus.
Or sugary
Upon occasion
As is the date
Of Taeilat.

Dizzy, the bounding Aran
Of the political arena—