Punch (46.1864)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

155

April 16, 1864.

THE LOWEST DEPTH.

Inebriated, Snob (to party with paper lamp). “Which is the way—to—to—the
P—P—Poses Plastiques? Why, Hallo! Is that you, Jim? How the dooce

DID YOU COME TO THIS ? ”

Jim. “Well—all along o'them Night Publics. And here I am—an ‘Illu-
minated Advertisement ! ’ ”

OLD HARRY TO JOHN BULL.

Another surplus ? Hullo, you !

Again some millions of taxation ?

Oil! come, I say, John, this won’t do.

You want a new Administration.

You ’re getting on a deal too fast;

All this prosperity can’t last.

Unless you change your cards in time,

To dodge the shifting odds of chance.

With men arrived at Fortune’s prime
’Tis sure ill luck if you advance.

The tide’s at turning-point, no doubt;

So, now then, turn those fellows out.

See, there’s the Old World and the New,

Both all a-blaze with roaring war;

And, in the meanwhile, where are you ?

Why here, aloof, at peace, you are!

Because your Ministers delay

The struggle that must come some day.

Long since you should have joined the game;

And, had you battle’s flag unfurled,

You’d stand, which now you don’t—for shame!
This day alone, against the world.

You ought to be at war, and were,

For honour did your rulers care.

Why, Portsmouth should, by this time, shelled
With rifled cannon, be on fire,

The heights of Portsdown being held
By Volunteers ; my own desire
Did they who govern you fulfil.

As those that should succeed them wifi.

By glorious death your gallant youth
Ere now should have been decimated,

And glory’s price to pay, forsooth,

At ten per cent, your incomes rated.

And likewise every other tax
Doubly redoubled on your backs.

War must befall you, soon or late ;

Trust not a Power I need not name.

Believe in me ; believe in Fate ;

No matter which—they’re both the same.
Cashier your Palmerston, you fool!

Let Derby and Disraeli rule.

A TRAP TO CATCH A PICKPOCKET.

An interesting invention, which cannot be too soon introduced into
this country, is announced, with a delightful account of its mode of
action, by the Lombardia of Milan, which says :—

“ A young man with his avm caught in an iron trap, has just been led through
the streets of this city to prison. A person named Vabisco had invented a gin to
catch pickpockets, which may easily be placed in a coat-pocket, and is so constructed
as to hold the hand of the thief as if in a vice. M. Varisco being in a locality which
those^ light-fingered gentry are thought to frequent, and remarking near him an
individual of a rather suspicious exterior, took from one of his pockets a handsome
silver snuff-box, at the same time assuming a simple air: then leisurely taking a
pinch from it, he placed it into a pocket provided with the trap. Presently the
stranger approached M. Vabisco, slipped his hand into the pocket, seized hold of
the bait, and in another second showed by his cries that he was securely caught.”

“ And such an instrument I was to use,” says Jones, “ when I went
to the Opera, and the Derby, and the Zoological Gardens, and to hear
Spurgeon, and to Punch's Office at the hour of publicatiou. Only,
worse luck, it had not been invented.” Well; now it has, and will
shortly, no doubt, be on sale at all ironmongers. To be sure the para-
graph announcing its invention, beaded “ The Pickpocket’s Trap,”
appeared on the first instant, but then it was quoted by more than one
paper on the same day. Let us, then, hopefully believe that the trap to
catch a pickpocket is a fact. Might it not be called the Anti-Artful
Dodger ? It really will be a very pretty toy for young fellows who are
hard up for fun to amuse themselves withal. Going anywhere in quest
of game of that sort which is called a lark, they will at least do well to
put- one of these pickpocket-traps in each of their pockets. The capture
of a thief by means of it would be a capital joke in the first place, and
| would soon become a common occurrence; the frequency of detection
would then discourage, and ultimately stop the pickpocket’s pursuits.
Ihe wearer of the trap, we of course presume, is furnished with a key
to it m order to unlock it when, during a fit of absence, feeling in his
pocket, he gets caught in his own gin; but he might be in an awkward

fix if he forgot himself so far as to put both hands in his pockets, with a
trap in either. Self-preservation also demands that the jaws of the
pickpocket-trap should not be armed with sharp teeth, which would
sometimes accidentally bite the wearer’s own fingers.

A GHOST-DOG.

At a late meeting of the Anthropological Society, according to a
report of its proceedings, papers were read by the Rev. F. W. Farrar,
one of them on the alleged universal belief in a deity and a future state.
In the course of this paper the rev. lecturer told a good story:—

“ The belief in the existence of some unknown power was not sufficient, Mr.
Farrar observed, to prove belief in a Supreme Being, for even animals have a
consciousness of the existence of some superior unseen power ; and he mentioned
the case of a dog that refused to enter a wood that was avoided by the inhabitants
in the neighbourhood, because it was reputed to be haunted.”

Here is a case for the Spiritual Magazine, if it is only authentic. The
name and address of the canine prodigy referred to in the foregoing
anecdote are desirable. This must be a dog of the same breed with the
one iu Pickwick that pulled up at the caution-board in the plantation,
notifying that all dogs trespassing would be shot. In all ghost-stories
wherein a dog is concerned the dog always slinks under the table, or
behind the spectators, with his tail between his legs. Almost any dog
may be terrified with a suitable combination of long pole, sheet, and
turnip-lantern. But a dog’s avoidance of a wood reputed to be haunted
is something more than mere fright at an object which the creature does
not understand. It argues spiritual perception if the spot was really
haunted, and, if not, at any rate comprehension of the talk amongst the
people in the neighbourhood. So, then, this dog must have been one
if not supernaturafly sagacious, at least uncommonly clever; must have
either had a good nose for ghosts, or a wonderful ear for conversation.