Punch: Punch (56.1869)

86

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[February 27, 1869.

IRISH ASSURANCE.

The O’ Mullygan {who has been assuring his life). “Hah! Another Word, Gintlemen ! Or hear a good deal about Mercan-
tile Frauds and Financial Irrigularities, an’ I ’ye only this to say : if moy Ixicutors have any Bother in getting this
paid, 'faith oi ’ll Ixterpate int-hirely the thin Sitting Board !—Actuiry, Sicretary, and iyery Man Jack iy ye ! Make
your Memorandum o’ that, an’ Good Day t’ye ! !”

A PERT PRISONER.

Mr. Punch hoped, a few years ago, that by publishing the lines of
which the following are part, he should, as Mr. Puff says, have placed
the petting of criminals “ in so ridiculous a light ” that the system
would have been done away. Yet it not only goes on, but the petted
ones exult in it, and even sing Mr. Punch’’s song with insulting mirth.
He had to note this fact in September, 1864; (does He, any more than
the universe, forget an act of his own ?) and now he reads that
Alderman Wilson has just told the Middlesex Magistrates that a
prisoner left Mr. Punch’s lines written on a slate in his cell—these :—

“ I cannot take my walks abroad,

I ’m under lock and key ;

And much the public I applaud
For all their care of me.

“ Not more than others I deserve,

In fact, much less than more.

Yet I have food, while others starve,

Or beg, from door to door.”

We are sorry that the interesting creature should have applied our
moral wrongly, and we can only hope that the next gaol he gets into
he will find that we have been understood in a sense made clear to him
by his finding nothing to sing about, except in the way of singing out.

Falsehood and Its Reverse.

It is satisfactory to know by telegram that •.—

“ The Sultan of Zanzibar has imprisoned the man Mosa, who gave false
intelligence regarding Dr. Livingstone.”

Mr. Mosa, or whatever his name is, will now, perhaps, learn to tell
the truth, by lying in prison.

BEAUTY AT BATTUES.

On the last day of the shooting season in France there was a battue
at Marly. In a letter from Paris we are informed that the Emperor
killed one hundred and ninety-three head of various game, his male
companions between thirty-six and seventy-five each, and :—

“ The Empress brought down thirty, but then Her Majesty only shot
during the first part of the sport, that is the portion of time before luncheon.”

Of course, Eugenie is a fair shot, and after the rate, if the foregoing,
figure represents her average, as fair a shot as a lady need be. As
France leads the van of civilisation, and the Empress is an acknow-
ledged pattern to her sex, not only in clothes but also iu conduct, we
shall doubtless see the girls of England take to shooting, as soon as-
possible after its next commencement. Few of them will, perhaps,
attempt the moors on the 12th of August, but a large number will,
doubtless, be out on the 1st of September, and although not equal to
heather, may be expected to be quite up to turnips. The majority,
however, of sportswomen, still following the example of the Empress
of the French, will probably confine themselves to battue-shooting,
and the slaughter of tame birds, pheasants, and hares, sport which,
though a man may contemn it, is manly enough for a woman.

A Erench humorist’s joke against us English was the saying that,
when inspired by particularly fine weather, we were accustomed to
exclaim, “It is a beautiful day—come, let us go aud kill something.”
Erance has, perhaps, had some ground for this fling against English-
men, but not, hitherto, against Englishwomen.

To Sydney.

The Lord Chamberlain’s recent edict about the Ballet’s brief
skirt, is at all events one mode of re-dressing a grievance.

A Warm Reception.—A Crowded Levee.