DOI issue:
April 16, 1864
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16873#0166
THE IDLE GOSSIPS AGAIN!
Sensation Tableau, representing that “ Bage Creecher,” P-lm-bst-n and a Minion prom the Exchequer, going to bribe the
“ Hojus Punch.” (For fresh particulars, vide St-nd-rd or H-r-ld.)
TO MR. GLADSTONE, ALTER HIS BUDGET
SPEECH.
Potent performer! Bloxdin of debate!
Who, on thy high rope of yarns oratorical,
Treadest a path to turn a common pate,
With, firm-set foot, and clear brain categorical,
Keeping thy balance, to mankind’s amaze.
And ever and anon cracking a joke.
As eggs to make his omelette Blondin broke,
Dropping on heads upturned in breathless gaze
The empty shells, as thou the well-turned phrase.
But where he bore, across his dangerous track
One desperate party, blinded, in a sack,
Thou, all across thy figures’ long-stretched line,
A whole attentive Commons House dost bear—
There being, we know, at least two parties there—
As blind, if not as brave, so I opine,
As he whom Blondin pick-a-back’d mid-air!
Blondin could juggle but with knives and balls,
Thou tossest, calmly, millions to and fro,
Bidd’st exports, imports, rev’nue-rises, falls,
In mazy ring round thy calm forehead flow,
While dazzled, doubting, awed, astonished all
Listen and look, and hold then- breath, and say
“Can this go on? This sum will surely fall,
That total drop.” But no—he holds his way.
His balance kept secure, through all that figure-play !
As Blondin knew to thrill the crowd mtent.
Skilful on nerves or cord his art to ply,
Now tottering, now stumbling as he went.
Till hearts ceased beating, as his fall seemed nigh ;
So, now and then, wilt thou a pause essay,
A seeming hesitance, a doubtful ah’.
And Cecil pricks his ears, and Dizzy’s clay
Warms with slow life, and his eye ’gins to glare,
But soon the feint is played, and high in air
The proud head shows serene, the firm step holds its way !
Mysterious mind—whose power no task encumbers!
To grasp our many-millioned debt is tliine,
Or with melado, jaggery and Dutch numbers.
And other nice distinctions saccharine.
To play, like one bred in the grocery line !
What task above, what task below thy power ?
I own a brother, and with bended hunch
Vow, as I hail thee joint Lord of the hour,
“ I would be Gladstone, if I were not PurichP
WORSE THAN WELSH.
No person who reads Punch ever gets tipsy. But possibly some ;
persons of strong imagination may be able to form an idea of what
tipsiness is like. To aid them in so desirable a discovery, Mr. Punch
would say that he never in his life had any doubt whether he was sober
or the other thing until the folio whig passage, in a Scotch advertisement,
came under his bewildered eyes. A gentleman proposes to sell, intet
alia,—
“ The Estate of Auchendrean and Meall Dhu, also in the parish of Lochbroom,
comprehending the Lands of Carn-Breaemeanach, Carn-Brcachog, Corrybuie Firr-
rogie, Teangancuisachan, and Lubnachulaig.'
■
We are far from clear that any man has a right to print such aggre-
gations of letters, for to call such things words is to insult literature.
If we buy the estate, which we have some idea of doing, we shall insist
on having it, like Bottom, “ translated.’1
Sensation Tableau, representing that “ Bage Creecher,” P-lm-bst-n and a Minion prom the Exchequer, going to bribe the
“ Hojus Punch.” (For fresh particulars, vide St-nd-rd or H-r-ld.)
TO MR. GLADSTONE, ALTER HIS BUDGET
SPEECH.
Potent performer! Bloxdin of debate!
Who, on thy high rope of yarns oratorical,
Treadest a path to turn a common pate,
With, firm-set foot, and clear brain categorical,
Keeping thy balance, to mankind’s amaze.
And ever and anon cracking a joke.
As eggs to make his omelette Blondin broke,
Dropping on heads upturned in breathless gaze
The empty shells, as thou the well-turned phrase.
But where he bore, across his dangerous track
One desperate party, blinded, in a sack,
Thou, all across thy figures’ long-stretched line,
A whole attentive Commons House dost bear—
There being, we know, at least two parties there—
As blind, if not as brave, so I opine,
As he whom Blondin pick-a-back’d mid-air!
Blondin could juggle but with knives and balls,
Thou tossest, calmly, millions to and fro,
Bidd’st exports, imports, rev’nue-rises, falls,
In mazy ring round thy calm forehead flow,
While dazzled, doubting, awed, astonished all
Listen and look, and hold then- breath, and say
“Can this go on? This sum will surely fall,
That total drop.” But no—he holds his way.
His balance kept secure, through all that figure-play !
As Blondin knew to thrill the crowd mtent.
Skilful on nerves or cord his art to ply,
Now tottering, now stumbling as he went.
Till hearts ceased beating, as his fall seemed nigh ;
So, now and then, wilt thou a pause essay,
A seeming hesitance, a doubtful ah’.
And Cecil pricks his ears, and Dizzy’s clay
Warms with slow life, and his eye ’gins to glare,
But soon the feint is played, and high in air
The proud head shows serene, the firm step holds its way !
Mysterious mind—whose power no task encumbers!
To grasp our many-millioned debt is tliine,
Or with melado, jaggery and Dutch numbers.
And other nice distinctions saccharine.
To play, like one bred in the grocery line !
What task above, what task below thy power ?
I own a brother, and with bended hunch
Vow, as I hail thee joint Lord of the hour,
“ I would be Gladstone, if I were not PurichP
WORSE THAN WELSH.
No person who reads Punch ever gets tipsy. But possibly some ;
persons of strong imagination may be able to form an idea of what
tipsiness is like. To aid them in so desirable a discovery, Mr. Punch
would say that he never in his life had any doubt whether he was sober
or the other thing until the folio whig passage, in a Scotch advertisement,
came under his bewildered eyes. A gentleman proposes to sell, intet
alia,—
“ The Estate of Auchendrean and Meall Dhu, also in the parish of Lochbroom,
comprehending the Lands of Carn-Breaemeanach, Carn-Brcachog, Corrybuie Firr-
rogie, Teangancuisachan, and Lubnachulaig.'
■
We are far from clear that any man has a right to print such aggre-
gations of letters, for to call such things words is to insult literature.
If we buy the estate, which we have some idea of doing, we shall insist
on having it, like Bottom, “ translated.’1