Punch (67.1874)

76

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[August 22, 1874.

A PLEA IN BAR.

H, pitt the case of poor old Temple Bar !

They ’re bent on my downfall—they really are !

Say I stop circulation, impede traffic’s march—

Since the labourers’ strike stopped, it’s had form, is Arch !

That of late I can’t stand without crutches, I own—
That I ’ye had a sad sinking, is yery well known :
Though I ain’t near so had as they say, all the same—
But there—give a dog or a Bar an ill name !

It’s them rogues of lawyers, to ruin, consigning me,

In public opinion have been undermining me ;

But which is the worst public nuisance by far,

My free-stone, or their wigged and gowned, Temple Bar ?

My antiquity mayn’t be quite what is called “ wen’rable,”
By poets, historians, and all that there pen-rabble


But a Bar that has seen and let in Charles the Second,

On the “ weight for age ” rule, of sotne weight should be reckoned.

True, most of the crowned heads I’ve seen to the City,

Weren’t partic’larly wise, or partie’larly witty ;

Them last Stuarts, and three, if not four, of the Guelphs,

Among king’s-ware stand low in the second-rate Delfs.

But old Farmer George—he’d, at least, good intentions ;

And Queen Anne as a good sort of woman they mentions :

And Her Majesty—she as just now wears the Crown—

What a big lot of had ’ uns her good should weigh down!

Then, I’ve had less with monarchs than Lord Mayors to do,

And just think what a lot of them I have let through !

A hat Sheriffs, sword-bearers, and Aldermen bold,

I ve helped to keep out Kings and Queens in the cold !

True, some some called rebels, and others called martyrs,

Have atop o’,me found what you may call head-quarters.

But then think, Mr. Punch, what big-wigs have walked through
me—

Johnson, Goldsmith, Burke—bless you, they all of ’em knew me.

“TV hat are those P” Aou mean them round red things like full
moons ?

No—they ain’t rebels’ heads-only Child’s air-balloons
That on my old shoulders some joker’s been tying,

In allusion to “hubbies,” perhaps, or “ kite-flying.”

But now please, Mister Punch, as an old City-man,

Do give old Temple Bar a good word if you can.

Now I ketches it hot—I’m the talk of the Town ;

Down they comes on me, all,— and wants me to come down.

There’s the Telegraph, with its “ world-wide circulation,”
Leads, and leaders, the Town to my extermination ;

And the Echo says ditto, as echoes will say ;

And Times, Post, Standard, Hour, they all goes the same way.

They say I’m bad form, were I marble Pentelic ;

Old enough for a nuisance, but not for a relic.

That I stop what the cant, of the day christens “ movement
Am a bar that wants moving—a bar to improvement.

Well, I may he ; there’s few of ns quite knows ourselves :

And the shakiest don’t like to take to their shelves.

How’s an arch to stand up when its hearings are gone,

With all London shouting, “ Move off ! ” or “ Move on! ” P

Though if every old nuisance with no legs,to stand on,

And no special good-service to come Captain Grand on,

No beauty to plead, no appraisable worth,

Must needs he improved off the face of the earth,

Lor bless me ! ’twould he going a leetle too far
For a many old parties,besides Temple Bar ;

And all I can say is—if that's here or there—

That game’s easier started than stopped, my Lord Mayor.

The Credit of Spain.

The papers announce the disappearance from Norwich of a late
Secretary to a Provident Society, a defaulter to the imposing tune
of £10,000. By the natural attraction of defaulters to Spain, that
country was at once hit on as his place of flight, and police-officers
were sent thither after him, who have since been tracking the
defaulter from town to town, and on the 8th inst. arrested him at
Yalencia. If the Spanish authorities are animated with any
patriotism, will they not show a remarkable want of sympathy in
case they give up an unfortunate defaulter ?


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