Punch (52.1867)

June 22, 1867.]

PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

253

observe Sunday like pupils at a Sunday-school, there is
nothing like the application of Tickletoby

P. S. As Mr. Smith’s Sunday Liquor Bill stands,
apparently, it will allow any publican to sell beer on
Sundays if he also sells lollipops.

A PiEAN FOR DIZZY.

Air—“ Bovj, Wow, Wow.’’

Oh, Dizzy is a clever chap,

There ne’er was known a cleverer ;

Of Gordian knots and party-ties
The dashingest disseverer.

All Bright’s best cards and Gladstone's
He’s baulked by over-trumping,

Ta’en the wind out of Beales’s sails,

And shut up Bkadlaugh’s stumping.

Bow, wow, wow,

Pol de riddy, iddy, iddy,

Bow, wow, wow!

For True Blue Tories he’s made fact
Of Castlereagh’s famed figure—

In turning their own backs upon
Themselves emnloved their vigour.

Has hoisted the “residuum”

A-top of England’s Dukery ;

Has made his party eat their words,

And swear they like his cookery.

Bow, wow, wow, &c.

Has turned poor Toryism’s head
Where its hind-quarters used to be :

And desperate young Destructives
Old Obstructives has induced to be :

At the pikes on St. Stephen’s road
Has doubled M.P. ’s borough-fares,

And treated England’s ancient ways
As Thwaites treats London thoroughfares,
Bow, wow, wow, &c.

RET HiBuTIVE JUSTICE.

Farmer (giving the Culprit a Box o' the Ear). “ How dare you Beat those
Goslin’s, you young Rascal ? I saw you ! ”

Boy. “ Boo, oo, oo, what furr’d they Gors-chicks Feyther boite oi then

FURR?!”

IMPROVEMENTS ON SMITH'S SUNDAY LIQUOR BILL.

Mr. Punch,

Pray, Sir, use your irresistible influence to make Honourable Gentlemen
attend in the House of Commons on Wednesday, the 26th instant, for the purpose
of moving an Amendment to Mr. J. A. Smith’s Sunday Liquor Bill.

This much-called-for measure, which will constitute so precious a boon to
thirsty travellers, is framed so as “ to prohibit drinking on the premises of the
licensed victualler during the whole of Sunday, excepting where meat, confec-
tionery, or other victuals are sold.” Thus, you see, Sir, this Bill recognises as
legal the sale of confectionery !

Beer, Sir, we know, is a very bad thing for everybody, even in moderation,
especially on Sundays. But confectionery is equally bad. Pastry and sweet-
meats are extremely unwholesome, and judicious parents never allow their children
to eat any. The principle of a Bill designed to prevent naughty people from buying
beer on Sundays, is one which, consistently applied, would also prevent them
from buying tarts and buns, and goodygoodies.

So, therefore, Mr. Punch, please to instruct your representatives to move the
omission of the word “confectionery” in the clause above quoted; for confec-
tionery is very pernicious on any day, but, as aforesaid, especially on Sundays,
like beer.

Allow me to suggest another hint for the improvement of the endeavour at
paternal legislation proposed by Mr. J. A. Smith. The Sunday Liquor Bill of the
sapient and Sabbatarian Member for Chichester, I think, imposes penalties only
on the wicked licensed victuallers who shall be guilty of selling liquor on Sundays.
It provides no punishment for their naughty customers. Cause your parliamentary
party, Sir, to supply that omission by an additional clause, providing for the
due chastisement of those last-named offenders. The chastisement proper for the
correction of those transgressors is -obvious. To perfect a Bill designed to treat
grown-up persons like children, make your delegates insist on the insertion, in
the one which Mr. J. A. Smith has devised in the spirit of a pedagogue for that
purpose, of a clause subjecting every man convicted of having bought liquor on
a Sunday to the discipline of the rod as administered to youth. To wean adult
Englishmen from indulgence in exhilarating beverages, and teach them to

He once accused Sir Robert Peel
(’Twas thought a good and gay thing)
Of stealing the Whigs’ clothes away,

The while their Lords were bathing :
But bettering the example, he
Now turns worse theft to glory—

The Radicals’ old clothes he steals.

And swears that they are Tory 1
Bow, wow, wow, &c.

There’s many a man has turned his coat,
And then made bold to wear it,

Not as if callous against scorn
But as if paid to bear it:

But he’s the first who, with the blush
Of fellow turncoats burning,

Takes credit for himself and them
Their coats for never turning 1
Bow, wow, wow, &c.

DANGEROUS DRESSES.

The poet says that, whereas the other animals behold
the earth looking downwards, man had given to him a sub-
lime aspect, and was ordered to view heaven, and lift an
erect countenance towards the stars. _ He should mind
how he obeys this command at an evening party. Other-
wise he will cause every lady that he goes near to tear
her train. In descending out of a theatre, he had better
not raise his eyes heavenwards ; but, on the contrary,
direct them carefully below. If he does not, he will most
likely be tripped up, and tumble down the steps. It will
be dangerous, as long as the present fashion of long
dresses lasts, to venture on going to the play or the opera
to hear Beethoven, or Mozart, or Shakspeare. _ A
performance which induces an elevated state of mind,
apt to be accompanied, unconsciously, by a gaze in a cor-
responding direction, subjects any respectable man who
may go and hear it to the risk of breaking his neck.
Perhaps, as women have taken to dresses of the nature of
j tails, men, for their part, might as well take to going on
all-fours.

I