DOI issue:
May 21, 1859
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16623#0209
May 21, ISSy.j
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
201
QS~E^fr-C» .TOBACCQ N 1ST
UP WITH THE BUTTS.
Mr. Punch don't like playing at soldiers,
^ Pipeclaying and drumming and drilling :
Your goose-steps and pacings, your filings and facings,
Are for those who have ta'en the Queen's shilling.
But there's one thing he knows, if it's coming to blows,
His dislike e'en of drill he will stifle,
And " relict is jocis," "pro arts et focis "
[s ready to shoulder the rifle—
Tol de rol!
And if hitting the butt be the thing
Proves a man knows his piece how to handle,
Who will venture with Punch to compare r
Who is worthy to hold him a candle ?
Who long e'er John Bull ever thought
On the rifle-clubs' practice to enter,
Has been firing at butts every week,
And hitting them slap in the centre.
Tol de rol.
Then up with the butts, boys, and on with the belts,
And hasten your Enfields to shoulder;
That his teeth are the Lion's most useful reliance
We may find, e'er we 're many months older.
If it come to a fight, at the foe take a sight,
By a squint down a brown twisted barrel,
With our grey-coats in rank, we are safe as the Bank :
Let each keep his piece and who'll quarrel?
Tol de rol!
The Golden Mean.
OPEHA FOR THE MILLION.
We have seen it stated by some of our Contemporaries,
that by the plucky way in which they have managed the
Elections, the Government have gained credit for having
"shown their mettle." That there is some truth in this
we will not venture to dispute; but the statement would
have been more in accordance with the facts, if the spelling
of the last word had been slightly altered. No one will
deny that at Dover and elsewhere the Government have
done their best to show their metal.
One of the Million. " Now, then 'Eheby, come along ! We shall lose the
Hovertcre !" I One of the Inevitable Consequences or the Ilusso-
Anothcr ditto. " Why, wot a iuiecious'urry tou're in. Can't ter wait till j Franco Alliance—Mr. David Urquhart is sure to
a Cove !s dressed ? " I lecture upon it!
am TAnvTiTTT^m TVRAivrv Enter Gilbert.
AjN 1NLD11LD DliAMA. Gilbert. You have wronged me, Tubes. You robbed me.
Captain. I did not.
[Runs and fetches a sword. They fight. Gilbert is knocked doicn.
Captain. Come along, Clara.
{Change the Scene.)
The following drama has been enclosed to Mr. Punch by a corres-
pondent who has neglected to explain his or her desires with reference
to it, or indeed to do more than to poke it into Mr. Punch's letter-box
in an envelope without direction. The brilliancy of the composition
.however renders any formality superfluous. Prom the mingled sim-
plicity and rapidity of the action, Mr. Punch is inclined to think that
the writer can hardly have had time to give many previous dramas to
the world, and the extraordinary size of the handwriting confirms
Mr. Punch in this idea. Of the merit of the play there cannot be two
opinions and if Mr. Kean would bring it out at the Princess's, with
a magnificent suite of drawing-rooms with golden furniture, for the
first act, an allegorical history of Boulogne for an enlracte, and a
view of that port, real water and ships, and a splendid fete for the
second, we have a strong notion that it would draw London. Or
perhaps Mr. Harris, who may desire to keep up the traditions of the
Scene 2.—A Fair. A Dance.
Clara. Come alonsr, Edward ; come and have a dance.
Captain. Very well. I wonder if Gilbert will come hen
Enter Gilbert
Gilbert. Well, monkey head.
Captain. Just like you.
Gilbert. O, is it ?
Captain. Yes.
Gilbert. You are a silly ass. Why did you wound me 9
Princess's, would like to open with it. However, we will not longer j Captain. Why? Because I did [They fight again.
Clara. 0 don't fight, Gilbert. I like him.
[They fight again. Clara falls in love with Gilbert. Gilbert
kills Captain. Clara cries. Gilbert rejoices. Gilbert's
men cry,—
detain our readers from
AX HOUR AT BOULOGNE.
act i.
Scene 1.—A Drawing Room with Tables and Chairs. Curtain rises.
Clara. 0, Captain Tiiefs, is it you? How are you?
Captain Thees. Quite well, thank you.
Clara. 0 do you know that theie is a Fair to-day ?
Captain. O, is there ? Shall we go ?
Clara. Yes, my dear.
Enter Servant.
" Hooray ! "
Curtain falls. The end.
Lex Talionis.
It is seldom that Mr. Punch feels disposed to recommend homoeo-
pathic treatment; but, in such a case as that of a brute called
Servant. My Captain, your coach is waiting. j Wilson, committed the other day for skinning a cat alive, he would
Captain. Very well. Come along, Clara dear. ! suggest (on the principle, " similia similibus curantur") that Wilson
Ciara. Very well. ' should be skinned alive by a cat—with nine tails.
Vol. 3g. 7—2
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
201
QS~E^fr-C» .TOBACCQ N 1ST
UP WITH THE BUTTS.
Mr. Punch don't like playing at soldiers,
^ Pipeclaying and drumming and drilling :
Your goose-steps and pacings, your filings and facings,
Are for those who have ta'en the Queen's shilling.
But there's one thing he knows, if it's coming to blows,
His dislike e'en of drill he will stifle,
And " relict is jocis," "pro arts et focis "
[s ready to shoulder the rifle—
Tol de rol!
And if hitting the butt be the thing
Proves a man knows his piece how to handle,
Who will venture with Punch to compare r
Who is worthy to hold him a candle ?
Who long e'er John Bull ever thought
On the rifle-clubs' practice to enter,
Has been firing at butts every week,
And hitting them slap in the centre.
Tol de rol.
Then up with the butts, boys, and on with the belts,
And hasten your Enfields to shoulder;
That his teeth are the Lion's most useful reliance
We may find, e'er we 're many months older.
If it come to a fight, at the foe take a sight,
By a squint down a brown twisted barrel,
With our grey-coats in rank, we are safe as the Bank :
Let each keep his piece and who'll quarrel?
Tol de rol!
The Golden Mean.
OPEHA FOR THE MILLION.
We have seen it stated by some of our Contemporaries,
that by the plucky way in which they have managed the
Elections, the Government have gained credit for having
"shown their mettle." That there is some truth in this
we will not venture to dispute; but the statement would
have been more in accordance with the facts, if the spelling
of the last word had been slightly altered. No one will
deny that at Dover and elsewhere the Government have
done their best to show their metal.
One of the Million. " Now, then 'Eheby, come along ! We shall lose the
Hovertcre !" I One of the Inevitable Consequences or the Ilusso-
Anothcr ditto. " Why, wot a iuiecious'urry tou're in. Can't ter wait till j Franco Alliance—Mr. David Urquhart is sure to
a Cove !s dressed ? " I lecture upon it!
am TAnvTiTTT^m TVRAivrv Enter Gilbert.
AjN 1NLD11LD DliAMA. Gilbert. You have wronged me, Tubes. You robbed me.
Captain. I did not.
[Runs and fetches a sword. They fight. Gilbert is knocked doicn.
Captain. Come along, Clara.
{Change the Scene.)
The following drama has been enclosed to Mr. Punch by a corres-
pondent who has neglected to explain his or her desires with reference
to it, or indeed to do more than to poke it into Mr. Punch's letter-box
in an envelope without direction. The brilliancy of the composition
.however renders any formality superfluous. Prom the mingled sim-
plicity and rapidity of the action, Mr. Punch is inclined to think that
the writer can hardly have had time to give many previous dramas to
the world, and the extraordinary size of the handwriting confirms
Mr. Punch in this idea. Of the merit of the play there cannot be two
opinions and if Mr. Kean would bring it out at the Princess's, with
a magnificent suite of drawing-rooms with golden furniture, for the
first act, an allegorical history of Boulogne for an enlracte, and a
view of that port, real water and ships, and a splendid fete for the
second, we have a strong notion that it would draw London. Or
perhaps Mr. Harris, who may desire to keep up the traditions of the
Scene 2.—A Fair. A Dance.
Clara. Come alonsr, Edward ; come and have a dance.
Captain. Very well. I wonder if Gilbert will come hen
Enter Gilbert
Gilbert. Well, monkey head.
Captain. Just like you.
Gilbert. O, is it ?
Captain. Yes.
Gilbert. You are a silly ass. Why did you wound me 9
Princess's, would like to open with it. However, we will not longer j Captain. Why? Because I did [They fight again.
Clara. 0 don't fight, Gilbert. I like him.
[They fight again. Clara falls in love with Gilbert. Gilbert
kills Captain. Clara cries. Gilbert rejoices. Gilbert's
men cry,—
detain our readers from
AX HOUR AT BOULOGNE.
act i.
Scene 1.—A Drawing Room with Tables and Chairs. Curtain rises.
Clara. 0, Captain Tiiefs, is it you? How are you?
Captain Thees. Quite well, thank you.
Clara. 0 do you know that theie is a Fair to-day ?
Captain. O, is there ? Shall we go ?
Clara. Yes, my dear.
Enter Servant.
" Hooray ! "
Curtain falls. The end.
Lex Talionis.
It is seldom that Mr. Punch feels disposed to recommend homoeo-
pathic treatment; but, in such a case as that of a brute called
Servant. My Captain, your coach is waiting. j Wilson, committed the other day for skinning a cat alive, he would
Captain. Very well. Come along, Clara dear. ! suggest (on the principle, " similia similibus curantur") that Wilson
Ciara. Very well. ' should be skinned alive by a cat—with nine tails.
Vol. 3g. 7—2