Punch (52.1867)

March 16, 1867.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

103

I


GRATIFYING.

Radical Newsvendor (recognising Public Character, who has stepped in to buy a
penny paper). “ ’Ow do you Find yourself this Mornin’, Sir? {Refusing the
coin.) Oh, don’t Mention it, Sir ! We sell such a quantity of your
Cart de AYizeets, Sir, I couldn’t think of Charging you Anythink, Sir ! ”

EVEN-HANDED JUSTICE IN THE HOUSE OE COMMONS.

If the intentions of Government are carried out, Great Yarmouth, Totnes,
Reigate, and Lancaster are to be cut off from the Borough-body, as members
so utterly rotten, that, being past cure, they admit of no treatment but amputation.
Mr. Punch has no objection, though perhaps, if the diagnosis that has been applied
to these gangrened limbs could be directed to a good many more, the disease
might be found to have spread so far that, supposing amputation resorted to in all
the cases past cure, the Borough-body would be left with very few limbs at all.

But admitting that the sharp remedy of the knife may beneficially be employed
on this peccant quartette of constituencies, what should be done with those who
have inoculated them with the plague ? What treatment is to be dealt out to the
bribers—to Eenwick, Schneider, Lacon, Gower, Pender & Co. ?

If the House of Commons strip these Boroughs of their right to a Member, in
perpetuum, for being corrupt, ought it not to deprive these gentlemen of their
right of ever again sitting as Members, for corrupting ?

If sauce for the thief should be sauce for the receiver, then the penalties of
bribery should surely fall alike on those who offer, and those who take the bribe.

It will hardly do to punish for rottenness without punishing those who make
and feed the rot.

It is true, there is one difficulty. If Boroughs and Borough Members are to be
executed for having been caught dirty-handed, the hands of judge, jury and execu-
tioners should at least be clean.

Where is the House of Commons to find clean hands to do its work of purifica-
tory sacrifice ?

The only thing we can see for it would be a very general application of the
Japanese happy-dispatch. Suppose every Member who feels himself as guilty as
those who have been found out, when they retire from public life with ignominy,
were to go and do likewise, what a very extensive vacating of seats would be the
consequence ! Perhaps, there might be enough left to do penal justice on future
offenders.

THE WAIL OE THE OLD WHIP.

{Apropos of recent difficulties in the Derby-Dizzy Subscrip-
tion Hunt.)

One may well swear like a Tartar—

Such a field and such a pack!

Blest if I know what 1’m arter.

Who to rate, and who head back.

Who the master of the hounds is,

In the meet-lists what ’s our name,

What our country and our bounds is,

Where’s our covers, what’s our game !

Once the old Hunt went on stunning,

Our subscription-book was filled:

Once our hounds run straight, not cunning,
Earths was stopp’d, and foxes killed.

Once a whip need but be steady,

Keep himself and osses neat,

Have his hounds in kennel ready.

Bring ’em all right to the meet—

Touch hat to the master’s orders,

For the cover he should draw;

Then to skirt the gorse’s borders,

Old uns’ cheer, and young uns’ jaw.

Head back rioter and rover,

Make the whimperers hold their prate,

Get his fox well out of cover,

Lay his hounds on and ride straight.

Runs was runs then, foxes foxes;

Whips and pack each other knew ;

Nags, not men, lived in loose boxes,

And a screw was called a screw.

We’d our own subscription country,

Our hunt-livery we wore,

And we thought it an effront’ry,

H them togs a stranger bore.

Now you may change coat or button,

Let the hounds work anyhow ;

If they run deer, hare or mutton,

Whips is not to make a row !

Earths is stopped, or left neglected,
Eox-preservin’ let go slack.

Yet a whip’s to whip expected,

And they calls this mob, a pack!

Hounds as I’d rate I’m told not to
Staunch hounds bid thong black and blue ;
And the country as we’ve got to.

Ain’t the country once I drew.

The direction-posts is altered,

Gates and gaps ain’t where they were.

Muster Darby’s nag’s string-haltered.

Muster Dizzy won’t ride fair !

There’s the General has hooked it,

Cranborne and Carnarvon too:

They ’re disgusted and they looked it.

And there’s more than them looks blue.

Blest if I’ve not a good mind to
Send my whip and livery back—

Changing place I ain’t inclined to,

But it’s all up with our pack!

AN INDUBITABLE DON.

In a late report of proceedings in the Court of Bank-
ruptcy, there appeared a case headed as follows :—

“ In re E. P. J. R. F. S. W. G. De Martano.”

The name to which the foregoing initials are prefixed
is that of a Spanish gentleman ; “ but,” observed a fool,
“ although he is a foreigner, the Bankruptcy Court is a
place in which the literary world must be sorry to see a
man of letters.” “ Eight letters,” said another fool,
“ standing for so many Christian names! The bearer of
them must have had liberal godfathers and godmothers.”

Information.—It may not be generally known that it is the peculiar and
lucrative function of the Board of Green Cloth to grant licences for Billiards.

A Laborious Post.—The new First Lord will find
plenty to do at the Admiralty. There is a long list ol
Agenda and Corrigenda.