Punch (71.1876)

90

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[September 2, 1876.

getting a living, which the practitioner owes to himself. On prin-
ciple, likewise, the existing Poor-Law, which, however slightly,
interferes a little with the natural punishment of unthrift and im-
providence, ought to be repealed, and all paupers left without any
noxious mitigation of their miseries, to perish by want and famine.
In conclusion, the Secretary of the Anti-Charitable Society confi-
dently invokes the enlightened Mr. Punch to devote his cudgel to
the promotion of '' the greatest happiness of the greatest number "
by exerting it to the uttermost in belabouring and smashing all
manner of Charitable Institutions.

PAT-RIOT-ISM.

he recent Home-
Rule Conference
in Dublin hav-
ing conclusively
proved how very
worthy the Irish
are of receiving
the boon of a
Native Parlia-
ment, Mr .Punch
ventures to make
a few sugges-
tions that may be
of service sooner
or later to those
fortunate Gen-
tlemen who may
hereafter be elect-
ed to represent
their country-
men on College
Green. If the
following hints
are acted upon,
an Irish Member
of Parliament
should last out
at least two Ses-
sions.

RULES FOE HOME-RULERS.

1. Before leaving your lodgings for Parliament House, be careful
to survey the street from a distance, so that you may detect and
avoid any armed band in the pay of the Opposition.

2. Should the road appear clear, disguise yourself in some appro-
priate costume. Avoid the rags of a beggar, or you may be taken
for an office-seeker.

3. Run as fast as you can to the House. Should you hear any
firing, put up your bomb-proof umbrella (new invention to be
obtained, when Ireland has her Parliament, at 85, Fleet Street).

4. On reaching the House, take off your disguise unobserved, and
assume your suit of buff lined with steel armour.

5. Never make a Speech in the House, as, if you do, you will be
called upon to remove your Helmet.

6. When Revolvers are produced, get under the bench upon
which you will, until then, have been sitting.

7. Choose your seat so that your back may be turned to the sun.
If your opponents have the light in their eyes, their aim will be far
from steady.

8. Draw your sword before you take part in a division.

9. If possible sit near the meter, so that you may be able to turn
off the gas when the fighting commences.

10. Never waste your ammunition in bad shots. Aim low, and
keep your wrist steady.

11. Never neglect a wound. The moment you feel yourself hit,
ask the Sergeant-at-Arms to have you carried to the surgery.

12. In conclusion, before being sworn in, forgive all your enemies,
say farewell to all your friends, and keep your will safe in the
bottom of your iron-covered boots. For fear of accidents, you had
better be on good terms with the Parson. Also, to save time, you
may make necessary arrangements about your funeral.

The Confessors of Keighley.

Something like a dead-lock has occurred in the affairs of the
Keighley Union from the imprisonment of the seven Guardians for
disobeying the Vaccination mandamus. A contemporary refers to
these seven prisoners as " the recalcitrant seven." To recalcitrate,
we know, is to strike or kick with the heel, or kick backwards ; and
we also know that to perform this act unadvisedly, and suffer for it,
is peculiarly characteristic of a certain quadruped needless to name.
The felicity, therefore, of calling these seven Anti-Yaccinationist
Confessors recalcitrant " is extreme.

HAPPY THOUGHTS.

First Impressions—Dublin—Cars and Cabs—A Word on Old-
fashioned Hotels—Trinity College—Disillusions—A Nap—An
Invocation—Awakening—A Change comes o'er the Spirit of my
Dream—Forwards !

< Kingstown.—Landing-stage. First view of Ireland. Dull, de-
cidedly. A leaden morning. Where are all the " boys," and the
car-drivers, and pig-jobbers, and the priests, and the military, and,
in fact, the crowd generally ? All my preconceived notions of
"landing in Ireland," founded upon Jack Hinton, have vanished
into thin air.

Ireland, or so much as I see of it at present, is not half awake,
and the landing is the tamest affair possible. Not an early joke
about anywhere : not a witticism iu the air. The " boy " puts my
luggage in the train, and takes his shilling without a remark, with-
out even a humorous twinkle of his eye. Yet there is novelty in
the atmosphere ; not the novelty of a foreign land seen for the first
time, but the novelty of a strange accent, of my native tongue
"gone wrong" somehow. I feel that there cannot be any doubt
about my being out of England, though there may be some lurking
distrust of my being entirely awake. In less than five minutes I
clearly comprehend that I am in Ireland. The newspaper man is
offering journals with names new to my ear, though not to my sight.

Notes.—The run by rail into Westland Row Station is decidedly
uninteresting. Judging from what I can see of anything like
scenery—(to note first impressions)—this portion of Green Erin
ought to come upon the tenantry for "dilapidations." As bad as
coming into London for the first time by Shoreditch, or the back
gardens of the houses near the Great Western.

Before I have time to do more than struggle with drowsiness, the
train has arrived at its destination, and a Porter is asking me
whether I '11 have '' An outside car, or a four-wheeler ? " As I have
not come to Ireland to take a four-wheeler, I immediately close
with the outside car.

Here are the cars—the outside cars—all outside. Some signs of
life : that is something to remind one of Charles 0,Malley, &c. At
present my first idea of Dublin is that it wants washing. But this
is exactly what I should say of London, taken from a Shoreditch
point of view, in the early morning of a dull day.

I am rather pleased than otherwise to find that I haven't change
for a shilling in my pocket, and consequently that I am able to tell
the Porter the reason why I cannot give him, as I had intended, a
sixpence. I am'glad, because it will probably bring something witty
out of him, which will be well worth the extra sixpence. Not a bit
of it; only what he does say is what I fancy would never have
occurred to a London Railway Porter in similar circumstances. It
is this, quite confidentially : u Shure, av yer goin' to give me anny-
thing, a sixpence or that, ye can sind it back by him" indicating
the Carman, who willingly undertakes the commission.

The Carman {standing up on the right side of the Car while I am
on the left, holding on to the centre rail). Where am I goin' ?

Myself [heartily). To Morrison's.

I wish the name wasn't Morrison's, as it suggests pills.

Other cars are all leaving at the same time and obstructing the
narrow descent to the sate. The Car-boys shout at one another.

Happy Thought.—Now I shall hear some real genuine Irish fun.

"Mickey, get out o' the way wid ye, and don't ye be all day,"
is the nearest approach to humour on this occasionand yet, some-
how, there is a good-tempered, devil-may-care air among them,
that is quite different from the sulky manner of the London
Cabman. . . .

Still, I may safely note that, so far, early morning m Dublin is
not the time to see an Irishman at his brightest or his best.

At present I am asking " Where's the rollicking ? " The shops
are still closed. The people about, seem very much like the people
in any other town about at the same hour, only a trifle more sleepy.

At present I've not heard one " Hooroosh! " or a request to
"tread on the tail of my coat! " or seen a shillelagh, or a bright-
eyed girl going to mass, or a man with a pig, and I begin to wish
I liad never read anything about Ireland.

Nothing particularly strikes me, except, that what of Dublin I can
see at a glance, appears very old-fashioned and highly respectable.
The architecture closely resembles the style of house you may still
see in old coloured prints, representing the " White Horse Cellar,
and Piccadilly in the old coaching days, or the streets of Bath in tlie
time of Beau Nash, George the Fourth, and Tom: and Jerrt.

And so alighting at the old-fashioned hotel, I feel immeasurably
depressed, and pay double what I subsequently find was tne ngnt
fare, without the spirit to raise a question on the subject.

I have a notion that, on my back being turned, and as I ascend
the stairs, the Carman has a joke about me with the 13oots or the
Night Porter ; but he is welcome to it—only I should like to have
heard this first instance of Irish wit, even at my own expense.

The atmosphere of Morrison's preserves a taint odour ot a