DOI issue:
August 18, 1866
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16878#0086
78
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [August 18, 1866.
MISS
LAVINIA BROUNJONES—No. 1.
Miss Lavinia Brounjones Prepares for a Sketching Expedition in the Highlands. Leaving the Beaten Track, she
WILL ESTABLISH HERSELP IN SOME BEMOTE FARMHOUSE WHERE SHE CAN FIND READY ACCESS TO FINE SCENERY AND QUIET OPPORTU-
NITIES for Practising her Art. She superintends the Packing up of a few Necessaries. (To ie Continued.)
SONG IN PENAL SERVITUDE.
I’m a Rough, I’m a Rough as practised, the garotte.
Has for me and Reform I ’ve aa that ot and ot.
The effects on the back ow I still feels ’em smart;
But I ope that the lesson has gone to my art.
I’ve been whipped, I’ve been whipped! Eighteen lashes I took,
And didn’t I find it a treat with a ook!
Eighteen cuts with the Cat wus than hever a knife :
Never spent a ten minutes so bad in my life !
Some the Chaplain’s dewout exhortations don’t touch.
But the blest cat-o’-nine-tails I feels werry much:
And, with all due respect to the Reverend Gent, ’
My conwersion I owes to that there instrument.
Wen my five years is up—now I knows wot is pain—
Whosoever I robs I ’ll from wilence abstain !
I’ve been whipped, I’ve been whipped; I’ve been chastened,
yer see,
Hand the Cat to repentance is all wot brought me.
Which, way the Cat should Jump.
Several scoundrel Garotters have been soundly and properly flogged
at Manchester. As one of Mr. Dickens’s ladies remarks, “ Their
owls was horgans,” and organs which, we hope, will intimate to the
i garotting world generally that society is pleased to see the cat jump in
such a direction.
The Horrors of War.—We believe that it was simply for the
sake of making a bad pun, that somebody the other day reported there
had been a brush near to Lake Como.
OUR WOODEN WALLS.
Can anybody tell us of what use are all the obsolete old wooden
yellow hulks, which lie rotting at Sheemess and our other naval dock-
yards ? They are clearly not kept floating for any warlike purpose, for
m these days of rams and ironclads they are both harmless and defence-
less. The Miantonomoh could sink them with a couple of shots apiece,
and then steam away unhurt by all the broadsides they could blaze at
her. What it yearly costs to paint them, and keep them at their moor-
ings, is more than we can guess; but it is clearly a waste of money to
let all this inutile lignum lie rotting in our harbours, when it might be
sold for firewood, and so return a few pounds of the thousands it has
cost. Will somebody in Parliament just ask why our old hulks are
kept afloat when useless for any warlike end? We have no doubt a
good answer to this question can be given : but we know that ex quovis
ligno non jit Mercurim, and wooden heads are sometimes connected
with the management of England’s wooden walls.
More Justice for Ireland.
Justice, whose fillet slipped of late
Down over both her ears;
Now bends her back beneath the weight
Of five-and-eighty years.
AN UNPLEASANT REMINDER.
If the tiresome street-children beg any of the Members of the late
Government to “ Remember the Grotto,” how painfully their words
must force them to Remember the Cave !
Evident.—With what material ought the Needle Rifles to be loaded ?
Gun cotton, of course.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [August 18, 1866.
MISS
LAVINIA BROUNJONES—No. 1.
Miss Lavinia Brounjones Prepares for a Sketching Expedition in the Highlands. Leaving the Beaten Track, she
WILL ESTABLISH HERSELP IN SOME BEMOTE FARMHOUSE WHERE SHE CAN FIND READY ACCESS TO FINE SCENERY AND QUIET OPPORTU-
NITIES for Practising her Art. She superintends the Packing up of a few Necessaries. (To ie Continued.)
SONG IN PENAL SERVITUDE.
I’m a Rough, I’m a Rough as practised, the garotte.
Has for me and Reform I ’ve aa that ot and ot.
The effects on the back ow I still feels ’em smart;
But I ope that the lesson has gone to my art.
I’ve been whipped, I’ve been whipped! Eighteen lashes I took,
And didn’t I find it a treat with a ook!
Eighteen cuts with the Cat wus than hever a knife :
Never spent a ten minutes so bad in my life !
Some the Chaplain’s dewout exhortations don’t touch.
But the blest cat-o’-nine-tails I feels werry much:
And, with all due respect to the Reverend Gent, ’
My conwersion I owes to that there instrument.
Wen my five years is up—now I knows wot is pain—
Whosoever I robs I ’ll from wilence abstain !
I’ve been whipped, I’ve been whipped; I’ve been chastened,
yer see,
Hand the Cat to repentance is all wot brought me.
Which, way the Cat should Jump.
Several scoundrel Garotters have been soundly and properly flogged
at Manchester. As one of Mr. Dickens’s ladies remarks, “ Their
owls was horgans,” and organs which, we hope, will intimate to the
i garotting world generally that society is pleased to see the cat jump in
such a direction.
The Horrors of War.—We believe that it was simply for the
sake of making a bad pun, that somebody the other day reported there
had been a brush near to Lake Como.
OUR WOODEN WALLS.
Can anybody tell us of what use are all the obsolete old wooden
yellow hulks, which lie rotting at Sheemess and our other naval dock-
yards ? They are clearly not kept floating for any warlike purpose, for
m these days of rams and ironclads they are both harmless and defence-
less. The Miantonomoh could sink them with a couple of shots apiece,
and then steam away unhurt by all the broadsides they could blaze at
her. What it yearly costs to paint them, and keep them at their moor-
ings, is more than we can guess; but it is clearly a waste of money to
let all this inutile lignum lie rotting in our harbours, when it might be
sold for firewood, and so return a few pounds of the thousands it has
cost. Will somebody in Parliament just ask why our old hulks are
kept afloat when useless for any warlike end? We have no doubt a
good answer to this question can be given : but we know that ex quovis
ligno non jit Mercurim, and wooden heads are sometimes connected
with the management of England’s wooden walls.
More Justice for Ireland.
Justice, whose fillet slipped of late
Down over both her ears;
Now bends her back beneath the weight
Of five-and-eighty years.
AN UNPLEASANT REMINDER.
If the tiresome street-children beg any of the Members of the late
Government to “ Remember the Grotto,” how painfully their words
must force them to Remember the Cave !
Evident.—With what material ought the Needle Rifles to be loaded ?
Gun cotton, of course.