Punch (67.1874)

158

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[October 17, 1874.

THE SHAH’S DIARY.

came from Persia,
The land, of
Xerxes,

To England, coun-
try of wit and

To

That

power;
its Wessex
and Mercia—
Alas, what irks
is

I can’t com-
prehend this
realm, this
hour.

At

ty-

home,
rannic,

I cut men’s
heads off,

I have my luxury,
live my life:
I’m struck with
panic

When freedom
spreads off
So far that a man
daren’t kill
his wife.

I saw great Lon-
don:

Teheran’s a
trifle.

Cheapside or Pall
Mall would
hold all our

A

The Volunteer rifle, _

England at work with her unequalled pace.

race:
deal of
done,

fun

Yes, England beats us
With her easy manner
Of treating all men in a pleasant way:

And when she greets us,

Her glorious banner

In the bright air tells us, she will have her way.

I have seen her Queen, who
Is a lovely lady,

In her happy autumn, under skies of gold:

With her girls serene, who,

In woodlands shady.

Teach her all the folly of growing old.

I have seen Lord Russell,

The Vigh, who’s older
Than I, by many a weary year:

But, in any tussle,

He’d he far bolder

Than the heir of Xerxes, I sadly fear.

Yet I cannot learn it—

The weighty lesson

Of freedom, meaning full breadth of power ;

Could Persia earn it!

Put clearer guess on—

Grasp England’s hand in this difficult, hour.

A Monk and Monkeys.

At the risk of being accused of giving circulation to
pernicious intelligence, Mr. Punch ventures to extract
the subjoined betting announcement from a Birmingham
journal:—

“ Middle Park Plate.—Correction in the Betting at the
Subscription Rooms.—Six o’clock.—Cambridgeshire: 8 monkeys
were offered agst Benedictine (not taken).”

Respectable readers, taking eight monkeys in the above
connection simply to mean so many of the Simiadce,
will perhaps see a novel and comparatively unobjec-
tionable form of betting in wagering monkeys against
horses. It may be as well to tell them that a ‘ ‘ monkey ”
means five hundred pounds—in the slang of betting-
men and thieves.

A FALSE ALARM.

The hoax announcing the perversion of the Duke of North-
umberland carried improbability on its face. It was transparent.
The Daily Telegraph said :—

“ We received some days since an important communication to the effect
that his Grace the Duke of Northumberland had become a convert to the
itoman Catholic faith. In order to test the accuracy of this statement, we
sent for information to Alnwick, and learnt from a telegraphic despatch that
the rumour had no foundation in fact. In consequence, however, of a reitera-
tion of the original assertion, we last night referred the report to one of the
highest authorities of the Catholic Church of England, who, in answer to our
inquiries, asserts his firm belief in the Duke’s conversion, and adds that his
Grace was lately admitted into communion by the Bishop of Beverley.”

“One of thehighest authorities of the Catholic Church of England”
of course would not have asserted “ his firm belief in the Duke’s
conversion,” and then have added to that assertion of belief the
assertion of the fact that “ his Grace was lately received into com-
munion by the Bishop of Beverley.” He would simply have asserted
the fact if he had known it.

The messenger through whom reference was made to Monsignor
Capel, or some other high Roman Catholic authority, was probably
a ?,en, C3man Paused to the society of such authorities. When he
called, most likely the distinguished ecclesiastic was out, and one
of his men-servants, perhaps his footman, had the impudence to
personate him, and make the statement above quoted, which an
unscrupulous and illogical flunkey would be quite capable of doing.
It is to be hoped that Aloysius, or Ambrose, or John Thomas, or
whoever he is, has had a good penance set him for this blundering
presumption, by the Prelate his master.

The Correct Colour.

Johnson was expressing his surprise to Jackson, at finding on
his return to Town all the pillar-boxes painted a new and startling
colour. Jackson could see nothing but the most perfect harmony
in an alteration matching so well with the letters, which were always,
he reminded his friend, re(a)d.

A TORPEDO TOO MANY.

Torpedoes, and the like, our foes
Are suffered to explore, ’tis said,

Whilst all such mysteries as those
Are from our friends kept secrets dead.

But, if the foreigners have seen
More than has led them all astray,

“ What fools our Powers that be have been! ”
Is somewhat less than we could say.

How dead a secret, till to-day,

Was that torpedo which explodes
Unbidden on its fatal way,

Mid. close and populous abodes!

Now eyes are opened that were blind,

Trust we that all torpedoes known,

Will be, in time to come, confined
To blow up enemies alone.

No Credit Given.

“ It is characteristic of the primitive character of Syrian Christianity, that
both His Holiness the Patriarch of Antioch and the Bishop of Jeru-
salem, who arrived in this country the other day, have come without scrip or
urse for their journey, and whilst here will be the guests, we believe, of the
oeiety for the Propagation of the Gospel and the Church Missionary Society.”

Admirable ! But we should like to know whether the Patriarch
and the Bishop hired a cab on their arrival, and what view the cab-
man took of the absence of scrip and purse at the end of the journey ?

the barometer’s bearing.

The Times the other day announced a return of pressure, under
the heading of “ The Weather ; ” happily not under that of “ Money
Market and City Intelligence.”