Punch (59.1870)

Aogosi 13. 1870.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 65

&

SOME RECRUITS EOR THE SOUTH GERMAN ARMY.

(MR. PUNCH will not break his heart to part with them.)

A " GRAND REMONSTRANCE."

Dear, Punch,

We appeal to you, as an old friend of our families. We are ill-used indi-
viduals. The man who has so long been associated with us in the thoughts of every
British subject, in facetious journals, in statistical papers, and in London and pro-
vincial Directories, has stolen a march upon us, has basely deserted his comrades,
has had the hardihood to emerge from the modest obscurity in which we have all
up to this date been content to dwell, and is now at this very hour flaunting
before the eyes of that public of which he is the laughing-stock, himself, and his
name and his family pretensions ! ! !

Imagine our individual surprise and joint disgust when we saw, openly ad-
vertised, a work with the audacious title of The Heraldry of Smith!—Smith! !
Heraldry ! ! ! At first we believed it to be a hoax, a joke, and as such dismissed
it from our minds ; but now, when we have inspected the book, when we have pur-
chased a copy by our united contributions, we can no longer doubt the guilt of the

THE '-BAPTISM OF FIRE."

The boy rode by his father's side

Watching his father's face,
As battle's voices, far and wide,

Roared through that peaceful place.

The rifles cracked, the bullets sung,

The file-fires rattled shrill,
And battery answ'ring battery rung

Hollow, 'twixt bank and hill.

Through summer wood, o'er stubble field

By hasty harvest cleared,
And furrows forced their roots to yield,

Unripe, lest foes appeared.

They rode together, son and sire,
Their raid on German ground,

Watching war's game of blood and fire
And Death at work around.

'Twas strange to see the impassive face

Under the haggard brow,
Wherein no man the thought might trace,

Or feeling, even now.

And strange from that worn face to pass

To the fresh face beside,
That looks its first at death, alas !

And learns its truth to hide !

'Tis said that soldiers wept to see

The boy, so calm and lair,
That iron-rain face fearlessly

As any veteian there.

And when a bullet in its leap
Struck in his horse's way,

He bade them give it him, to keep-
in memory of the day.

And when what pens of office call

"The victory ! " was won,
And "cease fire" rang from bugle-call

The sire embraced the son.

Happy (his firstling laurel-leaved)

To flash along the wire—
" Rejoice ! our Louis has received

His baptism of the fire ! "

When Rome's boys from the softer sex

Passed to the hands of men,
They hung the "bulla" round their necks,

And called them youths from then.

Shall this ball hang, O Eugenie,

Thy fair boy's neck around,
To tell of all the blessings he

Hath in that baptism found ?

Baptism of blood, and tears, and fire !
Three Chrisms—to mock the one

cunning traitor, or shut our eyes to his amazing presumption. *rom Jordan s wave, that gave his sire

But we shall be avenged. We are taking the promptest measures. The College
of Arms, learned members of the Society of Antiquaries, industrious students in
the Libraries of the British and Kensington Museums, are all at work for us and

our time-honoured names, and in a very brief space of time Smith will find himself What We Have to Bear

overtaken and outstripped extinguished and annihilated, when all the world is J Mr Momtagu Chambers thought, or, at least, said, in
struggling who shall be the first to obtain and read The Pedigree and Blazon of\ deba(e Qn g { that ,«jn time of Colonels might

Brown, The Family Tree and Genealogy of Jones and The Roll of Honour of Robimpn.W ditpensed ^uh " An excessively vulgar and slangy
Begging your acceptance of large (foolscap) paper copies of these forthcoming: offi \ part,icular friend cf ours, said that he always
works, destined, ^e are convinced to constitute an era m the literary history ofj f ; d Chambers had rather a good Nut (head), but it
our glorious country, and to smash up Smith, was ckar ^ ms kerutl bad beeu dispedsed witbj or he

We are, dear Punch,

Your faithful trio,

Thompson Street, N.E., Augud 6, 1870. Brown, Jones, and Robinson.

P.S. The expenses of publication are heavy. Contributions to the " Brown,
Jones and Robinson Eund," at any of the London or country bankers, will be
thankfully received and never acknowledged.

wouldn't have talked such &c, &e., &c.

We ordered him out of the room; but he wouldn't go,
and demanded liquid, as a reward for what he evidently
thought a brilliant epigram.

Foolish. Wonder.

Surprise has been expressed that the Secret Treaty was
Vert Sensible.—Advices from India make it clear that the inhabitants of kept dark so long. But, remember what is said in that
that Empire know how to adapt costume to hot wtather. The last report is, j capital play, Le Due Job, "A secret need not be respectable
" Shirtings Wominal." I to be respected."