Punch (33.1857)

12

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[Acgust 22, 1857.

Mr. Estcotjrt made a speech in favour of the Euphrates Railway, and Lord Palmerston,
again condemning the Suez plan, considered that in all such matters Government ought to
be only a Spectator. Sir Fitzroy Kelly then inquired, whether the King of Oude were in
confinement, and why; and observed that his family here disbelieved that he could have any
share in the mutiny. Mr. Vernon Smith made a very mild answer, to the effect that the
King was under restraint until an investigation could take place, when, if innocent, he would
be liberated. The same day, Mr. Punch happened to receive the Calcutta Englishman, in
which newspaper an officer at Ghazeepore states his view of the case in somewhat less
delicate terms. He says :—

" What is to become of the King of Oude? i suppose Government will act energetically for once in a way,
and hang the fellow, and as many of his adherents as possible."

Mr. Punch has only to add, that he thinks Mr. Hart, of the Trafalgar, has been unfairly
treated by the White-Bait Feast's having been postponed until the fish must be as big as
smelts. While this number is being published, the table is being laid for the Dictator's
Greenwich Dinner. Who will receive the Penny Mug ?

FULL MARCHING ORDER-TEE PENANCE OF PANMTJRE.

THE EARLY CLOSING ASSOCIATION".

The Fetes of this Association, curiously enough, have been taking place at the Crystal
Palace, whilst the adjourned debates on the Divorce Bill have been going on, morning and
night, in the House of Commons. Thanks to Messrs. Gladstone, Henley, Drummond,
Cox, and Manners, the poor members will be deprived of the Fete, with which they
generally celebrate the early closing of Parliament, on the Moors in Scotland and other
heathery places. Several of the grouse, wondering at the protracted absence of their usual
isitors, have begun to pair off for the next season.

THE SONG OF THE HOUSE.

With patience threadbare worn,

With eyelids heavy as lead,
A Member sat in the Commons' House

When he ought to have been in bed.
Sit! sit! sit!

In dog-days, small-hours and frowse,
And as his place he couldn't quit,

He sang the song of the House.

" Talk! talk! talk !

In the morning from twelve till four !
And talk! talk! talk!

At evening for eight hours more !
It's, oh, to be a slave

At words instead of work,
With Gladstone and Pam for Fox and Pitt,

And Bethell instead of Btjrke !

"Talk! talk! talk!.

Till the painted windows swim
Talk! talk] talk!

Till the lights in the roof wax dim !
Clause and section and line—

Line and section and clause—
Till on the benches we fall asleep,

And dream of making laws

Oh, men, with incomes clear,

Oh, men, with houses and wives,
What fools we are to be stewing here,

When we might lead easy lives !
Stick ! stick! stick !

In the stench of the bone-boilers' dirt;
To hear Gladstone's taunts at Bethell,

And Bethell's rejoinders pert!

" Talk! talk! talk!;

Our labour lasts night and day :
And what are its wages—nothing a-year,

And election bills to pay ;
The right to stand on this matted floor,

The right to address that chair,
And the Times a blank—for I'm not of the rani

To be reported there.

" Sit! sit! sit!

From weary chime to chime;
Sit! sit! sit!

And to miss a division's a crime.
Amend, divide, and report—

Report, divide, and amend—
Till each section's a riddle, the Act a maze

And a muddle from end to end.

" Talk! talk! talk !

In the blazing midsummer light;
Talk! talk! talk!

Through the sweltering midsummer night:
While all about the House

The bone-boilers' odours cling,
To mock us with dreams of the heathery hills.

Where the grouse are on the wing!

" Oh! but to breathe the breath

Of the heather and gorse so sweet,
With my wide-awake on my head,

And my luncheon at my feet!
For only one short hour

To feel as I used to feel,
After a morning's blaze at the birds,

For an appetite for my meal!

With patience threadbare worn,

With eyelids heavy as lead,
A Member sat in the Commons' House

When he fain would have been in bed.
Sit! sit! sit!

In dog-days, small hours and frowse,
And as the debate he couldn't quit,
He tried to make the best of it,

By singing the Song of the House!

The French Clacqtjetjr's Motto Bin
dat qui citb dat."