Punch (37.1859)

Old Mr. Bibbs. “Why, George! You never Ride here in the Afternoon—How’s that?”

Young Swellington. “ No-o-o. It looks as if one had some Occupation, you know, and couldn’t wide of a Morning. I

ALWAYS WIDE BEFORE BREAKFAST, BETWEEN ELEVEN AND ONE ! ”

But if I ’in mistaken—if want may await
Each man that’s unblest with a certain estate,

That man is a fool to spend all that he gains
By the sweat of his brow or the wear of his brains.

That man is a fool, if, with confidence rash,

He lives like the landlord or man of fixed cash:
That equal expense which ’twere folly to share,

Is injustice to him forced its burden to bear.

Now then, clever Sir, you •who have to compose
The Budget, and make us all pay through the nose.
Your wisdom will find some contrivance, no doubt,
A fair contribution to 'wring from each snout.

CLOSING OE TIIE THEATRE OE WAR.

Our readers—that is, everybody—will rejoice, we think, to hear that
a new farce having lately been accepted by the Managers, it is-
announced that this theatre is closed till further notice. In conse-
quence of their production of this peace, the (field-)pieces which have-
recently been brought out at the Theatre have, by order of the-
Management, for the present been withdrawn. The new peace, the
plot of which is taken from the Erench, is called The Peace of Villa-
J'ranca, or The Patched-up Treaty. It is a peace of serious interest,
though some critics regard it in the nature of a farce. After the
tragedy of The Campaign, any peace, however frivolous, is an agreeable
relief; and we trust that the accepted peace may have a good long
run.

The Beginning and the End.—The first tiling a man takes to
in life is Milk—the last is, his Bier.

A Secret about Secrets—A Secret is my Slave as long as I
keep it under; a Secret is my Master the moment it escapes from me.

ECONOMY OF THE BUDGET.

As safely a man may live up to his means,

Upon his mere labour whose -whole income leans,

As he who subsists on the surest of rents,

Or on interest due from the firm Three-per-Cents.

On the strength of precarious earnings, he may
Be quite as luxurious, jolly, and gay,

Keep house, horse, and carriage in just as fine style
As long on his toil as Dame Eortune shall smile.

His charity needs no more measure nor stint
Than it would if his hand or his head were a mint;
He may give without danger, or lend without fear,

If he just keeps within what he earns by the year.

Eor old age or misfortune ne’er let him provide,

But spend all he gets upon pleasure or pride,

Eor he has no greater occasion to save
Than one who is sure to go rich to his grave.

Oh, oh! do you cry ? do you question my rule ?

Ho you even declare that I talk like a fool?

Don’t you see that of prudence the point I advance,
Is a truth that’s deduced from the soundest finance ?

The principle wise legislators enforce,

That income is income, no matter its source,

And whether uncertain it be, or secure,

Should just the same weight of taxation endure.

Now taxes, ’tis clear to a person of sense,

Are perfectly like any other expense,

And those who afford them with quite equal ease,

Are equally able to live as they please.