DOI Heft:
July 25, 1874
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16939#0041
July 25, 1874.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
33
A GOOD LISTENER.
Reverend Gentleman. “ Well, Tim, did you leave the Letter at the
Squire's ? ”
Tim. “ I did, your Riv’rence. I e’lieve they ’re havin’ Dinner Company
TO-DAY- '
VERY WARM WORK.
Among the news of the week nobody can be surprised
by the announcement that:—
“ The difficulty of keeping down the temperature in the House
of Commons as the heat increases has necessitated the use of a
greater quantity of ice over which the air is passed before it
reaches the chamber. The consumption is now one ton per
night, and the extra cost thus entailed is about £20 per week.”
The debates on the Public Worship Bill have appa-
rently been attended with an actual rise of physical
temperature. Hence it would seem that fiery eloquence
and the beat of argument are not mere phrases ; that
i “thoughts which breathe ” do in breathing really involve
combustion by the combination of oxygen with carbon,
and “words that burn” liberate sensible caloric. It
is a pity that the necessity for icing the atmosphere of
! the House of Commons, created by these conditions
occurring in the Dog Days, precludes the experiment,
which would be highly interesting if it could be tried,
of testing by thermometer the comparative warmth of
! the House during theological and secular debates.
A Too Liberal Tory.
Albert Grant, as one who treated
His constituents, is unseated.
Has St. Stephen's lost a Tory ?
They that say so tell a story.
He was lavish of his treasure;
Liberal in too large a measure!
For another Minster bidder—
West, to wit, instead of Kidder, —
Might he not, through Leicester Square,
Find his seat lost, likewise, there ?
Question for Court Above.
It has been decided by several Judges that the owners '
of any place into which they admit people on payment
of money, with the knowledge that betting is carried
on in it, render themselves liable to fine and im-
prisonment. If this decision stand, how will it affect
Hammersmith Bridge on the occasion of the University
boat-race ?
Reverend Gentleman (angrily). “ What Business had you to be Listening
about ? How often have I Told you-”
Tim. “Plaze your Riv’rence, I only Listened with my Rose!!”
Quite T’other.—Anti-Burges writes to ask if the
I proposed ornamentation of St. Paul’s is to be considered
a “Wren-ovation.”
88° IN THE SHADE.
(T’other side of the picture, by a Cool Countryman. See Mr. Punch’s
last number.)
Hail, Perspiration ! cleanser of the pores.
Foe to the subtle acids that infect
The stream of life ! Who does not love thee well,
When on the green are pitched the cool white tents,
And clad in flannel, wearing shoes well spiked,
We play the game of games ? Hot let it be
As ever Phoebus made it, or as when
Phaeton drew down Jove’s thunder, feebly holding
His sire’s wild steeds—the exulting blood within
Makes such heat tame. Or when, with bending oars,
We pass reach after reach of glorious Thames,
A lady steering ; with each well-pulled stroke
The body lightens, and the spirit grows
Stronger and clearer. 0, the drowsy woods,
The flashing mill-race, and. the lazy lock,
Where waiting brings flirtation! Am I warm ?
Yes, but I like it: yes, hut I enjoy
My tankard, ere we try another spurt.
Smith does the same, and I delight to see
Smith’s friendly, ugly, humorous, sunburnt face
Through the glass bottom of the silver mug
As he inverts it like a gentleman.
Now is the time when my great wolfhound loves
To lave his tawny sides in Thames, and roll
In fresh-cut grass thereafter. He has read
No silly paragraphs on Rabies,
And won’t go mad at present. Flies there are;
Granted : but how the deuce would that sweet bird,
“ The temple-haunting martlet,” live without?
And there are thunderstorms. I love to see
Pure fire of ether in its zig-zag lines
Dazzling against dark cloud; I love to hear
The boom of the great thunder, and to feel
The close air cleared by each electric flash,
Till the birds sing again, and fields smell sweet,
And the great arch is thrown from hill to hill,
As when the Patriarchs saw it. Theatres
We have not here, but Night, the fair lessee
Of Nature’s Theatre Royal, has her stars,
Her orchestra the music of the spheres.
Then there’s a Comet, wherein sodium lines
May be distinguished, if you deftly place
Brandy and soda in your spectrum-gJass.
The necessary cat comes never near
My realm: the far more necessary dog
Would soon reduce him to his last mol-row;
And, for a reason not dissimilar,
The genial burglar never burgles here,
But plies his trade where spoons are plentiful:
For cottage windows open all night long,
And the aroma of cigars that calm
The mind into a state to write to Punch
Something as perfect as the diamond
On Sappho’s finger, tempt not William Sikes ;
Nor does he oare to have his vituline
Protuberance (he perhaps might call it calf)
Gripped hy an honest English mastiff’s teeth.
No, I sleep sound: if gnats come, I don’t know it,
But wake to exclaim, “ 0 glorious Summer ! Go it!
Bring perfect perspiration to your poet! ”
Vol. 67.
2
33
A GOOD LISTENER.
Reverend Gentleman. “ Well, Tim, did you leave the Letter at the
Squire's ? ”
Tim. “ I did, your Riv’rence. I e’lieve they ’re havin’ Dinner Company
TO-DAY- '
VERY WARM WORK.
Among the news of the week nobody can be surprised
by the announcement that:—
“ The difficulty of keeping down the temperature in the House
of Commons as the heat increases has necessitated the use of a
greater quantity of ice over which the air is passed before it
reaches the chamber. The consumption is now one ton per
night, and the extra cost thus entailed is about £20 per week.”
The debates on the Public Worship Bill have appa-
rently been attended with an actual rise of physical
temperature. Hence it would seem that fiery eloquence
and the beat of argument are not mere phrases ; that
i “thoughts which breathe ” do in breathing really involve
combustion by the combination of oxygen with carbon,
and “words that burn” liberate sensible caloric. It
is a pity that the necessity for icing the atmosphere of
! the House of Commons, created by these conditions
occurring in the Dog Days, precludes the experiment,
which would be highly interesting if it could be tried,
of testing by thermometer the comparative warmth of
! the House during theological and secular debates.
A Too Liberal Tory.
Albert Grant, as one who treated
His constituents, is unseated.
Has St. Stephen's lost a Tory ?
They that say so tell a story.
He was lavish of his treasure;
Liberal in too large a measure!
For another Minster bidder—
West, to wit, instead of Kidder, —
Might he not, through Leicester Square,
Find his seat lost, likewise, there ?
Question for Court Above.
It has been decided by several Judges that the owners '
of any place into which they admit people on payment
of money, with the knowledge that betting is carried
on in it, render themselves liable to fine and im-
prisonment. If this decision stand, how will it affect
Hammersmith Bridge on the occasion of the University
boat-race ?
Reverend Gentleman (angrily). “ What Business had you to be Listening
about ? How often have I Told you-”
Tim. “Plaze your Riv’rence, I only Listened with my Rose!!”
Quite T’other.—Anti-Burges writes to ask if the
I proposed ornamentation of St. Paul’s is to be considered
a “Wren-ovation.”
88° IN THE SHADE.
(T’other side of the picture, by a Cool Countryman. See Mr. Punch’s
last number.)
Hail, Perspiration ! cleanser of the pores.
Foe to the subtle acids that infect
The stream of life ! Who does not love thee well,
When on the green are pitched the cool white tents,
And clad in flannel, wearing shoes well spiked,
We play the game of games ? Hot let it be
As ever Phoebus made it, or as when
Phaeton drew down Jove’s thunder, feebly holding
His sire’s wild steeds—the exulting blood within
Makes such heat tame. Or when, with bending oars,
We pass reach after reach of glorious Thames,
A lady steering ; with each well-pulled stroke
The body lightens, and the spirit grows
Stronger and clearer. 0, the drowsy woods,
The flashing mill-race, and. the lazy lock,
Where waiting brings flirtation! Am I warm ?
Yes, but I like it: yes, hut I enjoy
My tankard, ere we try another spurt.
Smith does the same, and I delight to see
Smith’s friendly, ugly, humorous, sunburnt face
Through the glass bottom of the silver mug
As he inverts it like a gentleman.
Now is the time when my great wolfhound loves
To lave his tawny sides in Thames, and roll
In fresh-cut grass thereafter. He has read
No silly paragraphs on Rabies,
And won’t go mad at present. Flies there are;
Granted : but how the deuce would that sweet bird,
“ The temple-haunting martlet,” live without?
And there are thunderstorms. I love to see
Pure fire of ether in its zig-zag lines
Dazzling against dark cloud; I love to hear
The boom of the great thunder, and to feel
The close air cleared by each electric flash,
Till the birds sing again, and fields smell sweet,
And the great arch is thrown from hill to hill,
As when the Patriarchs saw it. Theatres
We have not here, but Night, the fair lessee
Of Nature’s Theatre Royal, has her stars,
Her orchestra the music of the spheres.
Then there’s a Comet, wherein sodium lines
May be distinguished, if you deftly place
Brandy and soda in your spectrum-gJass.
The necessary cat comes never near
My realm: the far more necessary dog
Would soon reduce him to his last mol-row;
And, for a reason not dissimilar,
The genial burglar never burgles here,
But plies his trade where spoons are plentiful:
For cottage windows open all night long,
And the aroma of cigars that calm
The mind into a state to write to Punch
Something as perfect as the diamond
On Sappho’s finger, tempt not William Sikes ;
Nor does he oare to have his vituline
Protuberance (he perhaps might call it calf)
Gripped hy an honest English mastiff’s teeth.
No, I sleep sound: if gnats come, I don’t know it,
But wake to exclaim, “ 0 glorious Summer ! Go it!
Bring perfect perspiration to your poet! ”
Vol. 67.
2