Punch (45.1863)

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November 7, 1863.1 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 1 So

FILLING AT THE PRICE.

This is the Old Lady that goes every day to our Pastrycooks, buys a halfpenny Bun,
and keeps the “ Times ” for three hours.

THE MERSEY RAMS.

As I stood by the Mersey,

Upon a certain day,

I saw a couple of Rams there
That never were fed upon hay.

The number of their dimensions
I can’t exactly tell,

But I guess their length was over
Thrice ten yards and an ell.

Upon my word ’tis true. Sir,

And what ’ll you lay it’s a lie ?

And it you’ll go to Birkenhead,
You ’ll see it as well as I.

The wool on their sides is iron,

The horns on their heads are steel:

Their trotters were under water,

Like the mail-clad Warrior's keel.

Their rails that grew on their haunches
Were hidden from my view,

Those tails are their propellers;

And each is an Iron Screw.

Upon my word, &c.

These ltams are in Mersey water
As true as I sit here;

The one of them called M Toussoon,

The other, El Monastir ;

Which Oriental titles
Are known to be mere shams;

The Sultan never ordered
This pair of Mersey Rams.

Upon my word, &c.

From straying out of the Mersey,

Those iron Rams to bar.

They closely are attended,

By a British man-of-war;

For the peace of England’s nation,

Thus Government has cared;

But their laudable precaution,

Is a bore for Messieurs Laird.

Upon my word, &c.


SMOKING ROOMS ON WHEELS WANTED.

Like many other great philosophers, Mr. Punch is fond of smoking,
and daily takes his tobacco as punctually as his dinner. But great as
is his sympathy with reasonable smokers, all those who smoke unrea-
sonably he holds in great contempt, and will ever do his possible to help
to put their pipes out. A gentleman who smokes where he may annoy
another gentleman, or, still worse, where it is possible he may offend a
lady, Mr. Punch thinks is no gentleman but a selfish, snobbish gent.
For this reason Mr. Punch condemns the practice of smoking in a rail-
way carriage, but he still more censures the mean policy of short-sighted
directors who appear to stint the public in supply of smoking carriages
that they may make a goodly income by the fines they hope to pouch.
The ladies, who are specially the pets of Mr. Punch, make continual
complaints to him about this growing nuisance, and explain how dis-
agreeable it is to them when going to a flower show or concert, to have
to travel in a carriage that reeks with stale tobacco smoke, and makes
their dresses smell as though they had been hung up in a pot house.
With an apology for quoting Latin before ladies, Mr. Punch may just
observe that a cask is not the only thing which—

“ Quo semel est imbuta diu servabit odorem.”

Just try smoking in a railway carriage where there are stuffed cushions,
and you will find that you may open the windows as wide as you will,
but the smell of tobacco will linger there still. To the female nose this
odour is in general a nuisance, and, much as Mr. Punch likes smoking,
he must consider that the maD who ever smokes where he may annoy a
lady, is a sDob whom it were flattery to call a selfish beast.

Nevertheless smoking is to some of us well nigh as necessary as
eating, and as this is a free country, we ought not to be deprived of it.
Were the matter rightly put to them, even ladies who hate smoke would
robably agree that smoking in a railway carriage should in some way
e permitted; for the more a son or husband smokes when he is out,
the less will he be likely to want his smoke at home. Mr. Punch feels
sure then that, the ladies will all join in his petition for having enough
smoking rooms on wheels in every train to accommodate himself and

other smokers who may travel. Were this done, Mr. Punch would use
his strongest influence to prohibit and prevent illicit smoking upon raih
ways, and to brand and gibbet all who wilfully commit it. The ladies
have the remedy in their own fair hands, and the more they are annoyed
the sooner they will use it. When their patience is exhausted let them
come to Mr. Punch, and join him in presenting a petition for redress.
A deputation of nice girls, if led by Mr. Punch, would no doubt find
ready access to every railway board-room; and if petitions for more
smoking carriages were thus properly presented, surely few directors
would be able to withstand them.

ADIEU TO MR. BEECHER.

Mr. Beecher has left us; he has sailed for America, where he can
tell his congregation just what he likes, but where he will, we are sure,
tell Messrs. Lincoln and Seward the exact truth, namely that large
numbers of the uneducated classes crowded to hear a celebrated orator,
and that the press has been very good-natured to him. Also, we hope
he will say, because he knows it, that the educated classes are at the
present date iust as Neutral in the matter of the American quarrel as
they were before the reverend gentleman’s arrival. Having duly stated
these facts to the President and the Minister, Mr. Beecher may
put them in any form he pleases before the delightful congregation,
whose members pay £40 a-year, each, for pews. And to show that we
part with him in all good nature, we immortalise his witty allusion to
ourselves in his farewell speech :—

“I know my friend Punch thinks I have been serving out ‘soothing syrup’to
the British Lion (Laughter.) Very properly the picture represents me as putting a
spoon into the lion's ear instead of his mouth ; and I don't wonder that the great
brute turns away very sternly from that plan of feeding.” (Renewed laughter.)

A gentler criticism upon us could not, be, and we scorn to retort that,
having a respect for anatomy, we did not make the lion’s ear large
enough to hold the other spoon depicted in that magnificent engraving.
For the Reverend Beecher is not a spoon, whatever we may think of
his audiences in England. And so we wish him good-bye, and plenty of
green-backs and green believers.