DOI issue:
May29, 1875
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16940#0243
236
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[May 29, 1875.
i
I
t
THE LETTER OF THE LAW.
Nervous Old Lady. “O, Policeman! Policeman! there’s a strange Dog that will
STICK TO ME, AND WON’T LEAVE ME, AND I CAN’T GET RID OF HIM ! COULDN’T YOU TAKE
HIM IN CHARGE OR SOMETHING ? ”
Policeman (who doesn't like the job). “Very sorry, Ma’am,—but we can’t interfere
with any Dog so long as he’s a Follerin’ o’ somebody ! ”
DERBY DREAMS FOR 1875.
If you dream that the Battle of DorkingAas been realised, and that the Germans have
occupied Woolwich and seized all our artillery, you may be sure that it will be Breechloader
who will be the winner.
If you dream that Lohengrin is not so great a success as II Talismano, and that the music
of the future is not comparable with the music of the past, you may rest satisfied with
Balfe as your selection.
If you dream that North Britain is depopulated, and that England is full of Macs, you
may be sure that Fly mg Scotchman will gain the stakes, and that Camballo will certainly
obtain a place.
If you dream that you are at a hall and are snubbed by the prettiest young ladies
because you cannot waltz, you may be sure that Galopin will win in a canter.
. If you dream that you have invested in Spanish bonds, and that you are personally
interested in the future of Honduras, you may be sure that the offspring of Repentance
will be the first to pass the Judge’s Chair.
If you dream that the French have become violent Royalists, and have determined upon
choosing a good and sensible prince for their king, you may safely back Claremont.
If you dream that you are in Olympus, and that Yenus has told you a secret, which you
have immediately divulged to the newspapers, he sure that Telescope will be particularly
lucky at the finish.
If you dream that you have seen Mr. Punch, and, having thus had the dearest desire
of your heart gratified, no longer wish to live, be sure that the Bay of Naples has no
chance.
If you dream that the Guicowar of Baroda’s guilt was proved in the pages of a
popular London evening paper, you can scarcely do better than put your faith in
Seymour.
If yon dream that you have been to the Derby and have lost your last penny in backing
the wrong horse, why rest satisfied, and let your vision remain a dream and nothing but
a dream. Verb. sap. !
AN EXCEPTIONAL MAY.
Fine weather in May,
For once in a way.
Blue sky, and sun glowing;
Mild gales gently blowing.
From their blossoms the trees
Shed scent on the breeze.
Green meads, too, in bloom,
Exhaling perfume,
With specks of red clover,
Are spangled all over ;
In silver and gold,
’Mongst the kingcups, behold,
And the white and pink daisies,
And saxifrage, blazes
The orbed dandelion,
And flouts Hyperion.
Lo hyacinth, fellow
To cowslip’s pale yellow !
See speedwell’s bright eyes,
Like bits of the skies,
The verdure peep through,
Boat-race flower-belles in blue!
The thorn-bushes blow
So thick, that with snow
O’erladen they seem;
Or clots of white cream
On gooseberry pie
Suggest to the eye.
Horse-chestnuts are out
On all sides about;
They bid us, of course,
Remember the Horse.
Through flowers and o’er mead,
Too far from the Steed,
No thought now should stray.
But a Horse lives on hay,
And this maxim may pass—
That horseflesh is grass.
And so let us learn
The Horse to discern
In the green of the field,
Which his fodder should yield ;
Imagine we see
The Favourite to be,
And behold plate and cup,
As ’twere coming up,
In pasture and crop,
Surveyed from the top
Of Derby-bound drag,
Or outside of a Nag,
When Nature is gay,
And birds sing away,
On the brightest of days
In this merriest of Mays.
An Unknowm Quantity.
Given.—A Divisional Field-day in the
Long Valley, Aldershot; time, twelve
noon ; thermometer 88°, on the shady side
of Cocked Hat Hill.
To find—The quantity of black sand
eaten, and number of water-bottles emptied,
by a regiment of Grabbies in the space of
one hour.
Dog-Day.
“ Every dog,” ran the saw, “ has his
flay; ”
That old saw we’ve a new one to flog :
At least, Epsom knowing-ones say,
“ TT.wvTir ?Dfirbv1 da.v bas its dofiT.’
CELA VA SANS DIRE.
A book is advertised entitled How to
Grow Roses Out of Doors. It may safely
be conjectured that the doors m question
should be made of rose-wood.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[May 29, 1875.
i
I
t
THE LETTER OF THE LAW.
Nervous Old Lady. “O, Policeman! Policeman! there’s a strange Dog that will
STICK TO ME, AND WON’T LEAVE ME, AND I CAN’T GET RID OF HIM ! COULDN’T YOU TAKE
HIM IN CHARGE OR SOMETHING ? ”
Policeman (who doesn't like the job). “Very sorry, Ma’am,—but we can’t interfere
with any Dog so long as he’s a Follerin’ o’ somebody ! ”
DERBY DREAMS FOR 1875.
If you dream that the Battle of DorkingAas been realised, and that the Germans have
occupied Woolwich and seized all our artillery, you may be sure that it will be Breechloader
who will be the winner.
If you dream that Lohengrin is not so great a success as II Talismano, and that the music
of the future is not comparable with the music of the past, you may rest satisfied with
Balfe as your selection.
If you dream that North Britain is depopulated, and that England is full of Macs, you
may be sure that Fly mg Scotchman will gain the stakes, and that Camballo will certainly
obtain a place.
If you dream that you are at a hall and are snubbed by the prettiest young ladies
because you cannot waltz, you may be sure that Galopin will win in a canter.
. If you dream that you have invested in Spanish bonds, and that you are personally
interested in the future of Honduras, you may be sure that the offspring of Repentance
will be the first to pass the Judge’s Chair.
If you dream that the French have become violent Royalists, and have determined upon
choosing a good and sensible prince for their king, you may safely back Claremont.
If you dream that you are in Olympus, and that Yenus has told you a secret, which you
have immediately divulged to the newspapers, he sure that Telescope will be particularly
lucky at the finish.
If you dream that you have seen Mr. Punch, and, having thus had the dearest desire
of your heart gratified, no longer wish to live, be sure that the Bay of Naples has no
chance.
If you dream that the Guicowar of Baroda’s guilt was proved in the pages of a
popular London evening paper, you can scarcely do better than put your faith in
Seymour.
If yon dream that you have been to the Derby and have lost your last penny in backing
the wrong horse, why rest satisfied, and let your vision remain a dream and nothing but
a dream. Verb. sap. !
AN EXCEPTIONAL MAY.
Fine weather in May,
For once in a way.
Blue sky, and sun glowing;
Mild gales gently blowing.
From their blossoms the trees
Shed scent on the breeze.
Green meads, too, in bloom,
Exhaling perfume,
With specks of red clover,
Are spangled all over ;
In silver and gold,
’Mongst the kingcups, behold,
And the white and pink daisies,
And saxifrage, blazes
The orbed dandelion,
And flouts Hyperion.
Lo hyacinth, fellow
To cowslip’s pale yellow !
See speedwell’s bright eyes,
Like bits of the skies,
The verdure peep through,
Boat-race flower-belles in blue!
The thorn-bushes blow
So thick, that with snow
O’erladen they seem;
Or clots of white cream
On gooseberry pie
Suggest to the eye.
Horse-chestnuts are out
On all sides about;
They bid us, of course,
Remember the Horse.
Through flowers and o’er mead,
Too far from the Steed,
No thought now should stray.
But a Horse lives on hay,
And this maxim may pass—
That horseflesh is grass.
And so let us learn
The Horse to discern
In the green of the field,
Which his fodder should yield ;
Imagine we see
The Favourite to be,
And behold plate and cup,
As ’twere coming up,
In pasture and crop,
Surveyed from the top
Of Derby-bound drag,
Or outside of a Nag,
When Nature is gay,
And birds sing away,
On the brightest of days
In this merriest of Mays.
An Unknowm Quantity.
Given.—A Divisional Field-day in the
Long Valley, Aldershot; time, twelve
noon ; thermometer 88°, on the shady side
of Cocked Hat Hill.
To find—The quantity of black sand
eaten, and number of water-bottles emptied,
by a regiment of Grabbies in the space of
one hour.
Dog-Day.
“ Every dog,” ran the saw, “ has his
flay; ”
That old saw we’ve a new one to flog :
At least, Epsom knowing-ones say,
“ TT.wvTir ?Dfirbv1 da.v bas its dofiT.’
CELA VA SANS DIRE.
A book is advertised entitled How to
Grow Roses Out of Doors. It may safely
be conjectured that the doors m question
should be made of rose-wood.