Punch (68.1875)

36

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

January 23, 1875.

CRUEL!

Smith (usually a shy, reserved, and silent man) tells a rather long, but otherwise entertaining, story, about an Orange, which

meets ivith great success.

Brown (when the laughter and applause have subsided). “ Bravo, Smith ! Capital, old man ! But, I say, you

ONE NIGHT AT JONES’S, A FEW MONTHS AGO !” „„„„ ,rH„

Jones. “No, no! Where he told it best was that morning we Breakfasted with you, Brown, somewhere aboji

BEGINNING OF THE YEAR BEFORE LAST ! ” m

Robinson. “Ah, but don’t you recollect the way he told it after that Supper I gave you Jellows at Bva,
‘Fifty-One’? How we did laugh, to be sure!”

THE LAST SONG OE A SAVAGE.

’Tis all for a misfortun’ I’m condemned for to be ’ung,

As a warnin’ and example to all Roughs both old and young.

’Twas brought in wilful murder because my wife did die
Just through my havin’ kicked her—that’s the honly reason wy.

1 kicked her like I’d kicked her full many a time afore ;

I kicked her just as usual, I thought, no less nor more,

And only two days runnin’ ; but my ill-luck was such
One kick at last I give her as turned out a kick too much.

I do declare I never did intend to take her life,

But safe within an inch of it purposed to kick my wife,

Atakin’ good care always short o’ murder for to steer,

And ’opin’ hof the gallus by that means I should keep clear.

In pint of law I thought the crime of murder was intent.

Exactly not for to commit that much was what I meant;

So, therefore, when another’s life it was my haim to spare,

To make me forfeit pay my own is wot I calls unfair.

I truly do repent the hextry kick I did bestow,

Or too much wigger unawares wot I flung into my toe.

Had I but know’d, I’d ne’er ha’ kicked my wife completely dead, |
To let myself in for the doom wot has ’lighted on my ’ed.

’Twas constant drink as brought me to the customary state
Wot caused the fatal haccident it grieve me to relate.

I was drunk the day I kicked her; I was also drunk the night.
When I kicked her the next mornin’ I’d not yet got sober quite.

The cause of hall was the means I got excess of drink to buy ;

The wages of the Workin’-Man, witch of late has rose so high :
We obtains increase of hincome to enjoy more drunken lives, _
And we strikes agin employers, and we goes and kicks our wives.

My pals, to rescue all of you from my untimely end,

Reduction of your wages 1 should strongly recommend.

Then you won’t get drunk, like I done, and kick your wives too
free,

And ’ave to hexpiate your offence upon the gallus-tree.

Liddon’s Mycology.

Canon Liddon has been driven by Monsignore Capel to disclaim
certain doctrinal statements occurring in Ritualistic books of devo-
tion as “fungi.” A mycologist would perhaps like to know what
particular fungi the Canon means. As the statements in question
are rank Popery, it may be suggested that they are all so many
varieties of the Boletus Romanus. Of course Canon Liddon cannot
regard them as common mushrooms, or any other sort of esculent
fungi, and, if he were a stanch Protestant, would class them with
the Russula emetica, the Amanita verna, the Lactarius torminosus,
and the other poisonous toadstools.

A Customer for Mr. Rice.—A Chinamaniac in the country writes
to ask if the Big Bed of Ware is of Worcestershire or Stafford shire,
and if it is likely to be put up to auction when the Babes in the
Wood have no further use for it ?