Punch (62.1872)

9

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

1 January 6, 1872

UTILE CUM DULCE.

Inquisitive Gent. " You will—a—Think me very Indiscreet—but I can-
not help "Wondering what this Elaborately-Carved and Curiously-
Ramified Structure ib for. Is it for Ornament only, or intended to
Heat the House, or Something ?"

Fastidious Host. " 0, it's the Drains I I like to have 'em where I can
Look after 'em myself. Pooty design, ain't it ? Majolica, you know. . .
Have some Chicken ? "

OLD GHOSTS AND NEW.

Of old, around the whitening embers,
One, here and there, as yet remembers
The tales of Ghosts, at Christmas season,
Which once were wont to stagger Reason.

Those tales are told no more at Christmas,
Whose Ghosts are laid beyond the Isthmus
Of Suez, all beneath the billows
Of the Red Sea, on sandy pillows.

The Ghosts with eyes of flame and saucer
Are now as obsolete as Chaucer ;
No Ghosts now rattle chains, nor blue light
Emit, but " Spirit Lights "—a new light.

White-sheeted Ghosts have grown mere fables.
Instead of groaning, Ghosts rap tables :
With smells of sulphur ne'er assail us;
With curious perfumes oft regale us.

They " mediums " raise by " levitation,"
And subj ect them to elongation,
And in and out of windows float them,
Two stories high, lords vow, we quote them.

Fruit, flowers, ice, other forms of matter,
On tables, in the dark, Ghosts scatter ;
Live lobsters, wriggling eels, and so forth :
Thus their " so potent art " they show forth.

There is a lady, Mrs. Guppy,
Mark, shallow scientific puppy,
The heaviest she in London, marry,
Her, Spirits three miles long did carry.

Upon a table down they set her,
Within closed doors. What! you know better
And we 're all dupes or self-deceivers ?
Yah, Sadducees and unbelievers !

Some Ghosts, do, mortal hands compelling,

Write letters in phonetic spelling.

Some others, on accordions, cunning

In music, Home, Sweet Home, play, punning.

The grisly Gbosts of old have vanished ;
The ancient Bogies all are banished.
How much more credible and pleasant
Tban the old Spirits are the present!

Memorandum for Lords of the Manor.

A game which, when played on Commons, becomes
illegal, is the Game of Cribbage.

Others are there, though notable, less notable than these :

See Russia, blue-eyed giantess, still rude and ill at ease :

But who can tell what undrawn wells of power and strength are there,

Under the brow that looms so broad below her fell of hair ?

And Austria, motley madam, 'twixt Yienna demi-monde,
Tyrolian mddchen, Magyar brune, and rough Sclavonian blonde ;
Of look more gracious than her mood, more potent than her power,
Trying all arts, and changing trick and toilet with the hour.

And Spain, still proud as when shfi walked New World and Old a
Queen,

Beneath her soiled and frayed brocades the rags plain to be seen,
Stately of speech, but beggarly of all but sounding phrase,
Slattern at home and shrew abroad, in worse as better days.

With sidelong and suspicious looks on Russia, Austria cast,
Which scarce her yashmak serves to hide, see Turkey gliding past.
A harem-beauty out of place 'twixt angers and alarms
At the hot looks of would-be Lords, that lust to own her charms.

Casting about for shelter she draws where, hand in hand,
Fair England and Columbia, proud child, proud mother, stand :
Time was upon each other they had turned less friendly eyes,
But of late both have grown wiser than let angry passions rise.

To the side of stout Britannia I see scared Turkey creep,

Though Britannia lifts no finger her foes at bay to keep :

But, for all her quiet bearing, there is something in her air

That brings to mind the good old saw, " Of sheping dogs beware ! '»

Twelve struck—and I saw grey Old Time his wassail-bowl uprear,
As he called on all the Nations to drink in the New Year ;

But first to drink the Old Year out, that to his end has come,
With small cause to regret him, as he passes on to doom.

And looking on those Nations, scarce a single face I saw
But over it lay such a cloud as doubt and fear might draw :
As if all wished the Old Year gone, while yet all doubted sore
If their welcome to the New Year should be hopefuller, therefor.

Some, thinking of disasters past, worse sorrows seemed to see,
In the near or farther future, up seething gloomily :
Some thinking of advantage won, seemed scarce to trust their hold
On that advantage, lest their prize turn dust, like fairy gold.

Only methought that Britain and Columbia, 'mid their peers,
Showed eyes more hopeful, calmer brows, and lips less pale with
fears:

As having clearer view than most where surest faith should lie—
To put their trust in Providence, and keep their powder dry.

As being bent to fight the fight of common sense and truth:
Nor yield the faith therein to fear, the rights thereof to ruth :
Not give knaves, fools, or fanatics, the driving seat and reins : _
Worthy his hire to own each man who works, with hand or brains.

To recognise the Heavenly rule that various lots assigns,
But ranges high and low alike 'neath Duty's even lines :
To do to others as we would that they to us should do,
To prize the blessings that we have, and others help thereto.

While Britain to this faith is firm, and puts this faith in deed,
Little to her how plenteous or how poor the years succeed.
She holds a hope good fortune reared not up, ill casts not down ;
Trusting the Power whose hand alike is o'er Red-Cap and Crown.