Punch (58.1870)

June ii. i87o.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

239

REAL ENJOYMENT.

umbrella to ladies. Dust as bad as ever, in spite of rain, going home.
Dead lock, owing to one inebriated postilion getting himself entangled
somehow with another inebriated postilion. Quarrelsome friend
abuses occupants of other carriage. Screams. Fight. Gallantry (in
the presence of ladies) again compels me to side with my friend.
Cheers from crowd. Something in my face like a sledpe hammer.
Feel as if my nose had suddenly been spread over my face. Find
myself once more on the box. Held on by somebody. Recovery.
Quarrelsome friend has vanished. In charge, I believe. Pelted with
peas. Feel very unwell. Getting down at Sutton for refreshment, am
left behind. Pay five shillings to the conductor of an omnibus to take
me with his party. Party chiefly asleep, the others singing. Protest
against my appearance, but ultimate fraternisation.

Next Bay.—Violent cold, rheumatism, bilious attack. Sum up
losses on bets to the amount of fifteen pounds, exclusive of sweep-
stakes and share of expenses. Clothes utterly spoilt. Hat, too.
Heal enjoyment!

WONDERFUL VITALITY OF VEGETABLE LIFE.

" The Boyal Botanic Society's Annual Exhibition of Plants, Flowers, Fruit,
and Works of Art was opened this morning [May 25th] in the grounds in
Eegent's Park. The exhibition will be continued to-morrow, and on June
22nd and 23rd, and July 6th and 7th."

We congratulate this excellent Society on having been instrumental
in bringing the cultivation of the garden and the management of the
hot-house to such perfection that an exhibition of flowers, fruit, &c,
commenced in the month of May, can be continued in June, and even
as late as July. Many of us would give anything to know the secret
of preserving flowers and fruit fresh and good for so many weeks.
Perhaps the newspaper reporter will teli us how it is done.

NONE OF YOUR EASY SHAVING.

JuBiLiTE ! ('Squires.) The Game Licence is to be retained, and
be Derby Bay—Vp an hour and a half earlier the Gun Tax imposed all the same. How vexed all the big boys will
t.rian usual, ieverish in consequence. Party to foe in the holidays ! Ha, ha! Of course the Gun Tax is not meant for
fetch me late. Barouche-and-four. On the box. tue purp0se of revenue. If it served that purpose, it would not
Drive down. Natural gaiety. Very lively at brst. answer the purpose of spoiling sport, which its promoters wish to
Episode of despondency about Clapham. Silence. Resumed gaiety i sp(ni_ j£K_ lowe truly s.d[d ^ he had frame(j hjs Budget on the
about Sutton. Dust m whiskers, moustache, and beard. Grimy j priaciple 0f making everybody a little uncomfortable. He has reduced
with dust, Guinea to get a place on the course. Capital place , the taxation of the community at large, and made each individual feel
to see from. Descend to join other friends. Bothered by men tuat ue has more to pay. The reverse of this method used to be
with dusting brushes. Entered m five different sovereign sweep-; jgnorantiy held to be the perfection of finance. But Mk. Lowe
atakes. Drawn a non-starter m all. Meet some ladies. Gal-1 despises the stupidity which vulgarly asks, " What's the odds, so long

lantry compels me to accept a challenge in gloves. More ladies in
another part. More gallantry. (N.B. Gallantry compels me to pay,
whether one loses or wins. Perhaps they'll forget it. .Hope so.)
Course gradually crowded. See a short cut back to barouche, in and
out of t he hind wheels of various carriages, and over the box (" shortest
and cheapest route "J of an apparently empty one. Not empty. Post
boy sitting by wheel below. Altercation with him as to how I came
there. Row compromised for a shilling. Hat knocked off by the
sudden opening of a carriage. Disreputable appearance of hat in con-
sequence. Suddenly discover that 1 am nowhere near our barouche.
Hunger. Thirst. Weariuess. Hear cheering and excitement. Some
race is going on. Not the race, surely ? Not the Derby. Must see it,
at all hazards. Suddenly appear in the rumble of somebody else's
carriage. Beg pardon, but want to see the race. Row with infuriated
gentleman in a dust-coat and blue veil. Offer of kicking. Offer
declined. Disappearance of myself from somebody else's rumble.
Attempts to see what race it is by jumping up at intervals. Failure.
Conclude that all races are alike and not worth seeing. Become one
of a crowd listening to niggers. Extricate myself. Fancy I see our
barouche in the distance. Take the right direction for it; find I'm
wrong asjain. Wish I hadn't left the carriage. Wish I hadn't come
at all. Find a friend's carriage. Throw out hints to induce him to
offer me luncheon. He drops casually, that he never brings lunch to
the Derby, but goes to somebody's (forget whose) booth or tent, or
something of the sort. Charge one guinea. 1 must do this, if I don't
find anyone to feed me. Wander over the course by the backs of
the carriages. Hit on good idea : to walk along, and then when I've
come to the last carriage, turn down by the ropes. Do so. Long
business. More and more thirsty. Meet a friend. He is finding his
carriage. He finds it joyfully. Another chance of lunch. No; he

as you're happy ?

ANYTHING GREEN IN BLACKHEATH?

The inhabitants of Blackheath have refused the offer of the Metro-
politan Board of Works to " plant it and beautify it."

With the experience of Thwaites and his works, they may well
doubt the capacity of the Board to " beautify," however satisfied
they may be, from recollection of certain transactions in contracts
among honourable Members of the Board, of their perfect readiness to
"plant."

The motto of Blackheath is " Timeo Thwaitos et dona ferentes ; " and
Punch is by no means prepared to say, that it is not a wise one.

Abbreviated Alphabet.

{With a Moral for the Fenians.)

A for America land of the free,

B stands for Britishers bred up in C.

C stands for Canada, Colonists too,

D for the duty they gallantly do.

E stands for England, friendly with A,

F for the Fenian, running away.

G stands for " Got him,"—and A holds him fast,

H stands for "Hang him,"—and so that's the last.

An Anglo-Continental Question.

lias had lunch elsewhere. Leave them after entering more gloves with 1 A Letter in the Times, from a firm of solicitors, states that a client
ladies. At last regain barouche. Luncheon finished, except what the of theirs will in a few days have completed a contract for the purchase
postboys are sharing with a gipsy, two children, a dog, and an unat- of the freehold in Leicester Square, aud thereafter intends "to forth-
Tached Ethiopian serenader. Have half a mind to join them. Cham- j with let the land on building leases." Shall Leicester Square be
pagne left. Drink it viciously. Friends so sorry about luncheon, but abolished, then? It is for Parliament to say yes or no. Cannot the
thought I had gone to the Grand Stand for it. Will go there. Legislature force the sale of any freehold to a railway company ? Why

Another guinea. _ Dry chicken, &nd all the salad gone. Stick to
barouche after this. Friend on box with me quarrelsome, from mid-day
champagne. Ram. No room inside carriage. Gallantry yields

not also to the nation ? Oblige, therefore, the purchaser of the Leices-
ter Square freehold to sell it pro bono publico. At the same time pay
hitn his price, and make the man happy.