Punch (73.1877)

October 20, 1877.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 173

have been lost sight of in the blaze that surrounds such intellectual
giants as Shakspeare, Jonson, Beaumont and Fletcher, Maelowe,
&c. Pobbex's principal—indeed, it may almost be said his only
play—Arviragus and Belvemira—has a confused plot, situations
entirely destitute of interest, and a style which, when it does not
rant, stoops to the baldest prose ; but still the piece, from its scat-
tered allusions to bygone habits and customs, is felt to have a claim
on the attention of the public. One disputed point it proves beyond
a question—that the introduction of snuffers took place at a much
earlier period than has hitherto been supposed, Gurton Poeeex's
Works will be issued both in small and large paper : the latter will
be limited to rive copies.

The jokes in the Christmas Pantomimes will be chiefly supplied
by Mr. Pongo, Zazel, Cleopatra's Needle, and Torpedoes.

Our gossip has run to such a length that we must postpone much
interesting information bearing on Science and Art.

CHARLIE TO >ARRY.

In reply to the Epistle from the latter Gentleman which appeared
in the last number of " Punch"

rell 'Abet, ole
al! this
comes 'oping
as 'ow you are hup
to the nines;

Though I haven't
much doubt on
that pint after
reading your rol-
licking lines.
If 1 'd got a few shots
in the locker, I'd
jine yer on Sunday
with joy ;

But I carnt square
the odds with old
Cocker, —won't
run to it, 'Akky
my boy.

The Gov'nor's a
- screw, as you know,
fcl55^ and he's cut down
my screw to a
quid.

Trade's bad, the old buffer declares, which in course that is all

blooming "kid ; "
Then I put on the pot rayther 'ot on the Ledger, and didn't quite

land;

So, yer see, I am hout of the 'unt, and carnt jine yer in doing the
grand.

But I envies yer, 'Arrt! the picter you paints is as temptin' as
jam.

New togs, lots of tin, with line gals and fine weather! it's prime,
and no flam.

Lor ! shouldn't I jest like to twig yer a trottin' about by the sea,
A-takin' the shine out of toffs, and a-takin' in Soda-and-B I

But Town's none so dusty jest now, though it's empty of orl the
erleet—

There's plenty of spice at the Music 'Alls, lots of rare larks in the
street.

If one carn't do the pier when the sick 'uns is landing—the richest
of sights—

One can make a good shift with our " barney" along the Embank-
ment o' nights.

It's as good as a play, I can tell yer, the game as we now carries on,
A-nobbling some funky old buffer, a-chivying some fat forrin
don;

And as for the sprees with the petticoats—there! it's a caution to
snakes!

The'peelers ? Lor bless yer, my pippin, they don't interfere with
our fakes.

That Druskywich business, I reckon, has jest about flummoxed the
"Cops;"

We've the run of the streets, and no error, once out of the glare of
the shops.

The papers is pitching it stiffish concernin' the rule of the Rough,
But jigger them penny-a-liners ! Who cares half a snap for their
stuff ?

Recollect them old capers at Islington, where we got caned by a
bloke ?

Ah! he were a 'ot member, that swell were, and lickings like his is
no joke.

But our high old sprees is more proper, and jest safe as houses
beside.

For calling us Cads breaks no bones, and that's all the topsawyers
has tried.

" More Peelers ! " the papers is crying. Oh yes, like that Drusky-
wich lot!

A duffer as carnt put the double on Coppers deserves to be shot.
We've bin doing it lately, I tell yer, and means for to keep hup the
game.

Wot! Stop all our street larks ? No fear ! Which the bloomin'
suggestion's a shame.

So you see you ain't got all the fun, though you 're doing the toff
out of Town.

Yet I should like a boss at the bathers, and wish I could jest toddle
down.

I've two and a tanner,—no, blarin it! carn't fix it, wus luck, so
good bye!

Yours, scrump&husly, Charlie.

P.S.—It's jest dusk, so I'm out on the fly.

WAITING CONFIRMATION.

The report-
That Lord Debet has let a week go by without writing five very
spirited despatches.

That the immediate result of the Dairy Show has been a fall of
sevenpence a pound in the price of butter.

That someone has written to the Times to say "he doesn't care
ivhat they do with Cleopatra's Needle ? "

That Mr. Gladstone is entertaining a distinguished circle of
Bashi-Bazooks at Hawarden.

That Marshal MacMahon knows exactly what he 's about.

That Count Andbasst told Prince Bismarck, at Salzburg, dis-
tinctly that " he had better look out."

That a distinguished historian's strong bias on the Eastern
Question has induced him to lead a division of Turkish irregular
cavalry under the nom de plume of " Freeman Pasha."

That Sir William Gull was called in to see the late Aquarium
Whale.

That Bishop Claughton is importing a couple of dozen for his
own personal sport and amusement.

That the next Obstructive Novelty at Westminster will be " Mr.
Pabnell fired from a Cannon."

That Sir John Bennett has been embraced by the whole Court of
Aldermen in sackcloth and tears.

That somebody has come back from the Continent in rough
weather, and hasn't written to the Times to say that " the manage-
ment was simply disgraceful."

That Londoners generally are looking forward to the gradual
approach of November with intoxicated enthusiasm.

That it is extremely enjoyable now at the sea-side, especially
after half-past six on a wet evening.

And that, taking all things into consideration, anybody who could
would do well to absent himself from town.

Plays at London Theatres.

The Porter's Knot—-Not to refuse a tip.

Family Ties—Our girls' beaux.

The Rake's Progress—Very fast.

The Bead Secret—Sir Rogeb Tichboene.

A Question of Phiz—Sweet or dry, Sir ? "

Parisian Intelligence.

Babometer bonnets have been introduced in Paris, trimmed with
artificial flowers which change colour with the weather. Thermo-
meter hats may perhaps be invented there, too, for use at elections,
and may serve to denote the degree of party ardour infused by hot-
headed addresses into cold, or lukewarm, voters.

proverb for ritualist pabsoxs.

What is the good of playing at Mass ? " Lejeu n'en vaat pas la
chanclelle."

Bulletin of the C2esarewitck Winner's JocKET.—Outside,
Hilarious ! Inside, jolly!