Punch (60.1871)

June 24, 1871.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON

CHARIVARI.

255

POST NATUS."

Grandpapa. " Get you a Commission before the Purchase System is
Abolished? Certainly not, Sik. You'll have to make your Way Just
as your Father and I have Done."

THE POLICE IN PARIS.

Why is the Council of the International Working-Men's Association like the
Pope P— saving the Pope's Holiness. Because it has published an Encyclical;
only its Encyclical is an Address to all the Social Revolutionists in Europe and
the United States, expressing sympathy with the Communists who martyred
the Archbishop of Paris. This Encyclical, therefore, diners from the papal
toto ccelo and—toto inferno.

It is probable that the International AVorking-Men, even those who form
the Council of their Association, do not see the Morning Post every day.
That is a pity, for if they did, they would have had the pleasure of reading,
in a late letter from the Post's Own Correspondent at Paris, the following
account of the present state of that Capital:—

" The gendarmes have resumed their old posts in all the splendour of their old attire, and
the familiar cocked-hat of the Parisian public officer is again becoming as common as when
Paris was in the height of her glory, and all the crowned monarchs vied with each other
iu 1867 in the splendour of their visits. Some fifteen thousand gendarmes and gardiens
de la paix are now iu charge of Paris, two thousand five hundred of whom are mounted."

Satisfactory intelligence, Odger, eh ? Good news, isn't it, Lucraft, and all the
rest of you gentlemen whose names have been published among the signatures
to the Encyclical of your CEcumenical Council? The Police are once more
supreme in Paris. Friends of Order— hooray !

Good Resolution.

By telegram from Paris, the other day, we learned that:—

"The Academie Franc/iise resumed its sittings yesterday; its Dictionary will appear
this year."

Is it true that the French Academy has determined to obliterate from its
forthcoming Dictionary the word " Gloire f"

helping hand wanted.

As a rule we disapprove of Corporal Punishment, but at this season of the year
we should not be sorry if every rjoor child could get a good blow in the
fresh air.

JOHNSON'S JUMP,

' Man overboard ! " A rush—a cry

That thrills the steamer's crowded freight!
He rises—sinks—no rope is nigh—

The life-buoy—save him! "lis too late !
No ! From the Bridge's central height,

A dark form flashes through the air,
The cloven water leaps in light—

There was but one, now two are there !—
A swimmer, skilful, swift, and strong,

And one he swims with, still and pale—
From boat and bridge rise, loud and long.

The shouts that saved and saviour hail!

And all is question and reply—

And scarce at length the truth we learn :
For bravery is proud and shy,

Slow to take thanks, as quick to earn.
'Tis J. B. Johnson death has braved—

From Leeds—he lives by the trapeze :
'Tis Captain Peters he has saved,

From the WestEnd—" There! stow your praise-
Next time be readier with a rope—

What if to save life be his whim ?
Reward be blowed! For tha$ he '11 hope,

Winning the match he's here to swim."

So should true courage waive its claim

To praise and pence, and go its way ;
'Tis only in the meed of fame

The hero earns the hero's pay.
On the trapeze when " Iza " swings—

So J. B. Johnson's name is " billed''—
What wonder if a house he brings

With curious admirers filled ?
If, when he swims, around the wave,

Applauding crowds in thousands tell
How life he risked, a life to save,

So should bear off both cup and bell.

Give J. B. Johnson cup and bell,

But cap and bells keep for John Bull,
Who to be gulled submits so well,

Knaves scarce can choose but make him fool.
The chorus has not died away

That rings round Johnson's gallant deed—
The hero still pulls in the pay,

That praise, with us, is apt to breed,—
WEen, lo, the saviour and the saved,

'Tis whispered, both bear Johnson's name;
Fall, leap, life rescued, drowning braved,

Are only Johnson Brothers' game !

Peter and J. B. both can jump,

Peter and J. B. both can swim:
What if P., overboard should plump,

J. B. from bridge spring after him?
How J. B. Johnson's name would draw,

How Peter Johnson's tap would fill!
Ducking and dive—an eight days' jaw,

And a year's profit in the till!
And so the little game was planned,

And so the little game was played :
And Johnson's name rang through the land,

And in the bills sensation made.

Be warned, John Bull, and ere again

You let your soft old heart go thump.
At some deed of heroic strain,

Take care 'tis not a Johnson's Jump.
There 's many a Peter over goes,

To be picked up by his J. B.,
Where both are equal shams and shows—

The peril and the bravery.
W^here though no hat is handed round,,

A heavier shot John Bull must stand;
His praise discounted at per pound,

And Fame's notes changed for notes of hand.

Freaks of Nature Distinct.—The Swan with Two
Necks is a sign ; the Two-Headed Nightingale is a
wonder.