Punch (27.1854)

184

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

THE NIGHTINGALE'S SONG TO THE SICK

SOLDIER.

Listen, soldier, to the tale of the tender Nightingale,
'Tis a charm that soon will ease your wounds so cruel,

Singing medicine for your pain, in a sympathising strain,
With a jug, jug, jug of lemonade or gruel.

Singing bandages and lint; salve and cerate without stint,

Singing plenty both of liniment and lotion,
And your mixtures pushed about, and the pills for you served out,

With alacrity and promptitude of motion.

Singing light and gentle hands, and a nurse who understands

How to manage every sort of application,
From a poultice to a leech ; whom you luven't got to teach

The way to make a poppy fomentation.

Singing pillow for you smoothed, smart and ache and anguish soothed,

By the readiness of feminine invention;
Singing fever's thirst allayed, and the bed you've tumbled, made,

With a careful and considerate attention.

Sinking succour to the brave, and a rescue from the grave,
Hear the Nightingale that's come to the Crimea,

'Tis a Nightingale as strong in her heart as in her song,
To carry out so gallant an idea.

THE BOTTLE-HOLDER AND THE BOTTLE OF SMOKE.

Mr. Punch, M.P. happened to remain late in the House of Commons
one night last year. He had promised his vote to Lord Palmerston,
on the Smoke Bill. Curiously enough, instead of going up-stairs into
one of the quiet and sheltered nooks at the end of the gallery, and taking
tin instalment of his night's rest, until the division should be called,
Mr, Punch actually listened to the debate, as respectfully (to outward
appearance) as if he could learn anything from anybody in that assembly.
He has called the time night—but the weary clock, staring hard into
Mr. Speaker's face, reminded him, savagely, that it was a quarter past
two. The public knows little of what happens in the Nether House
when the " little hours " come on. Reporting is over, and the desultory
chat of the National Dustmen (whose number has then dwindled to that
of the occupants of certain jars in the Ali Baba story, or even to that
of certain Pieces of Silver whereof we have heard) is wisely compressed
by the Gallery into a brief note, that "the Bill was read a second time."
For, though the cackle of geese might save the country, Editors prefer,
by omitting it, to save the morning mails.

Sometimes, however, the better men whom official red-tape ties to the
rreasurybenchunt.il the word "adjourn" cuts the fetter, come out,
at that uncontrolled hour, with denuded truths which they feel compelled
to drape, very jealously, during the period of set speech and watchful
stenography. And on the Smoke Bill aforesaid did Lord Palmerston
say a shrewd thing—recently recalled to Mr. Punch's mind.

The Bottle-holder had determined that the Bill should pass through
a stage that morning, and the way in which he flung his open hand
upon air, as presenting his palm for a hand-shake before the fight,
testified to the observant that he meant business. Nevertheless one or
two members resisted—Vested Interest in stench, and bone-grubbing,
and poison, was duly represented—and progress with the measure was
deprecated. One Voice from the Chimney croaked out, with soot in
his throat, that the proposed prevention of smoke was "impossible."

" I have not the least—a—a—doubt in the world," said the Viscount,
rising," that what the honourable member says is perfectly true. I have
had the—a—a—honour of a seat in this House for a good many years. I
have seen a good many impossibilities. I am certain that it is quite
impossible for people to consume their smoke instead of poisoning their
neighbours with it. But I am equally certain that if Parliament will
only enact that people shall consume their smoke instead of poisoning
other people with it, they will find it the easiest thing in the world. I
move, Sir, that the Bill be read a second time." And it was—and
speedily passed.

Months went by, and no particular heed was given to the Smoka Act,
save by those immediately interested. Certain Gunpowder Smoke,
I caused by a more pestilential nuisance on the banks of the Neva, made
us forget the black clouds on the banks of the Thames. But the Act
was being worked, and Mr. Punch has just read a paragraph, of which
the following is the essence.

" Consumption of Smoke.— At the Court ol the City Commissioners of Sewers, on
Tuesday, Mr. H. l. Taylor stated that about twelve months ago Messes. Calvert,
the great brewers, came to answer a cjmplaint made against them for not having used
effectual means for the Consumption of the Smoke of their premises. The explanation
i given at the time was not satisfactory, but additional time was granted. The difficulty
\ has been overcome. The consumption of smoke in this extensive concern has not been
attended with the expense which was anticipated by the proprietors. On the contrary,
the improvement has been accomplished by the judicious application of the stokers'
duties and the fuel alone. The whole of the smoke-consuming mystery was referrible
to the state of the furnaces and the conduct of the stokers. It was a great advantage
to the community to be aware of that important fact, as there could now be no excuse for
the filthy discharges of smoke from the extensive manufactories in the metropolis. They
could all banish the nuisauce by the most simple and cheap process-.''

Lord Palmerston has a good deal to attend to just now, and
I hereforc Mr. Punch has not asked his lordship to call in Fleet Street and
be congratulated upon the literal fulfilment of his prophecy. Indeed
Mr. Punch prefers to bear this public testimony to his noble friend's
foresight. And he begs to notify to all whom it may concern, that as a
voyage from Chelsea to Blackfriars will prove to the most careless Eye
and the dullest Nose that the " filthy discharges" above mentioned
still continue in unremitting plenitude of abomination, there is " no
excuse " for any of the authorities who shall neglect or delay to pursue
the offenders with all legal rigour and vigour. Meantime he drinks the
health of the reformed Calverts in a tankard of their best. It seems
to him to have a richer smack of healthful raciness now that it is
manufactured without poisoning the atmosphere.

THE BLESSING OF THE RUSSIAN OLD GENTLEMAN.

The reserve of the Russian Imperial Guard—according to the Presse
—witnessed, the other day at St. Petersburg, a touching spectacle.
Our Parisian contemporary says :

" The Emperor reviewed them, and availed himself of the opportunity to bless at
the head of his troops the two Grand-Dukes Michael and Nicholas, who, it is said,
are to join the active army. The benediction took place with much pomp. The two
Grand-Dukes went on their knees to receive it. and all the troops also knelt."

Pious souls ! An edifying scene, doubtless ; of thirty thousand and
odd pairs of eyes, nothing to be seen but the whites. Solemn silence;
the tongue of every man present thrust into his cheek, except the
Czar's—that being employed in invoking Heaven's grace and bene-
diction on his offspring: sons of rapine and murder. One does not
envy Michael and young Nicholas, their father's benison. "The
blessings of the evil Genii, which are curses, were upon him," are word?
that would, one fancies, be evermore running in the ears of anybody
that had been blessed by Old Nick.

Legal Intelligence.

A paragraph has appeared on the subject of the small amount of
business pending in Westminster Hall, which includes only " three
new trials." We are authorised to add that there will be a fourth,
consisting of a "new trial," which Mr. Briepless is about to make to
obtain a living by his profession. It is however probable that this new
trial will not swell the number mentioned in the official list, for the
i new trial in question will not appear in the paper. There are only
"three cases set down for judgment," but ws understand that the
Benchers of one of the Inns of Court being about to lay in champagne,
have recently ordered " a case for judgment."

Oxford Mixture.—Puseyism.