Punch (74.1878)

May 11, 1878.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 205

HANKEY PANKEY.

eter all the efforts to hand
over that awful example
of all that is hideous in
building called ''The
Oueen Anne's Mansions,"
which, from the quiet
neighbourhood of Queen
Square, looks down on
"Westminster and over the
Park, to a Limited Liabi-
lity Company, the public
has not risen to the bait.
The difficulty seems to
have been to say whether
the limits of liability,
likely to be incurred by
such a Company have ever
yet been exactly ascer-
tained. In short, if the
Company had been formed
as originally planned,
without the very full in-
formation since elicited by
the Committee appointed
to investigate and report
on the position of the pro-
perty—but too evident, one
would have thought, to all
"Western London — these
monster mansions might really have been christened after their
founder, with an addition, "The Hankey-Pankeyum."

As the "Mansions" are some thirteen stories high, the lift has
been an absolute necessity. And it was perhaps no more than
natural that the projector and proprietor should have had the idea
of getting a lift from the public also. As it is, the Company-project
is still, like the Mansions, in the air ; and though the Committee
are of opinion that the " concern, by careful management, may be
made a success eventually," it is evident that the projector has thus
far been very much outrunning not only the Metropolitan Building
Act but the constable.

Architecture, at least, is avenged. The " Oueen Anne's Man-
sions " are not yet the immense success we were assured they
were, though there can be no doubt of their still being an immense
eyesore.

'ABRY ON POLITICS.

What, Charley, old Chummy, what cheer ? Yes, I 'rn still on the

pen-and-ink lay ;
I'm getting no end of a hand, and shall write for the papers some

day.

Why not, my dear boy? I assure yer, at present, my style's all
the go ;

And so, jest,to keep in my fist, I drop yer these lines, per P.O.

You know, as a Pal of the past, that Politics wasn't my mark ;
But, by Jingo, since Dizzy come in, they've bin gettin' no end. of a
lark.

I'm nuts on that man, and no error. I hope he will go in and
win;

He knows all the ropes, and runs artful, and that is the 'oss for
my tin.

I once held that readin' the papers was business for fogies and
frumps,—

Dry rot, which except the Police News, 'ud giv yer a dose of the
dumps;

But now I've a pennorth each mornin', and often a haporth 'o nights,
For I tell yer they 're piled up that spicy, they touch up a feller to-
rights.

We 're in it, my boy, and no 'umbug; I mean me and you, and our
sort;

For politics isn't no longer a species of upper-class sport,
Like 'unting or polo ; old Gladstone might gush out his flesh-and-
blood rot,

But Beakey's the boy, after all, as has squared it for our little lot.

I say we 're the new 'Arry-stockracy ! Not arf a dusty one, hay ?
We 're quite 'and-in-glove with the nobs on the leadin' idears of the
day ;

Our manners they take lor their model, our argyments too, they
support,

And our music-'all patriot war-songs is patternised even at Court!

I tell yer, old pardner, it's proper ; I feels quite a swell, s' help me
Bob.

I used to detest a big bloater, but now I am nuts on a Nob.
And if that ain't "a drorin' the clarses together," why, may I be
blowed;

Them 'umbuggin' Rads never done it, for all they so hollered and
crowed.

Arter all, the Nobs' notions and ours is a lot more alike than you'd
guess;

A Toff is a man and a brother: it's mainly a matter of dress ;
Their rule's " Number One and no Snivel," they'd not lay a cent on
a "Saint,"

But pile their last brad on a smart 'un, and wot's common-sense if
that ain't?

No treacle-tub gammon for us, mate, nor no cosmypolitun gush 1
Guess ice don't go in with the Softies as Rushia* 'as managed to
rush:

It's savvy and swagger as does it: and as for the rot about
"right,"

My motto is " go in a buster, and settle that after the fight."

That's patriot sperrit, my pippin, and politics tooned in that key
Goes down, like saloop, at the 'Alls, and my sentiments suits to a T.

0 scissors, to read our own Telly a-towelling wood-chopping Bill,

1 tell yer it's lummy, my lad, and as good as a play or a mill!

So Charley, my 'earty, I'm in it—I wish you was ditto, I do :
You can 'owl, and chuck cats, and cry " Traitor! " and bonnet old

blokes till all's blue.
They've started our game at St. Stephen's—that shows wot swell

bunting we carry;
Jest trot up and try it, my boy, is the tip of

Yours scrumptiously,

'Arry.

NOX ET PRJETEREA?

The new Order in Council, enjoining "secrecy of opinions in the
Judicial Committee of the Privy Council," having apparently pre-
sented some difficulties to those members of that august body who,
not unreasonably, fail to realise the possibility of carrying out, in
the freer atmosphere of 1878, the practice common with the Star
Chamber in 1627, Mr. Punch is happy to come to their rescue with
the following suggestions :—

Let every member on being sworn,—

(1) Have both his town and country mansion surveyed by a
competent architect and machinist, and fitted immediately with
sliding panels, secret passages, underground outlets, and Venetian
blinds :

(2) Keep his mind continually on the rack, and go to a conversa-
zione in a pair of the celebrated Edinburgh boots :

(3) Make frequent use of questionable sixteenth century oaths,
wear false eyebrows, and acquire a well-pitched stage-villain's
laugh, for which he will take lessons from a provincial tragedian:

(4) Keep an iron mask on the premises, and advertise for a man to
wear it:

(5) Arrange a. finger alphabet with the Lord President, and talk
to him in it with emphasis whenever he meets him out at dinner :

(6) Spend his holidays on Tower Hill, and cultivate a traitor's gait:

(7) And last, hurry, in the dusk up blind alleys heavily cloaked
and disguised in a pantomime head, and dart out on occasional way-
farers with a shout of "Ha ! ha ! a time will come ! " so as gradually
to acquire a mastery over that melo-dramatic deportment which
those, who of course know best, consider in these latter days an
indispensable adjunct to the high and ancient dignity of Privy
Councillor.

Illis Robur et iEs Duplex.

Respectfully dedicated by Mr. Punch, her devoted admirer, to the accom-
plished Authoress of" The Voyage of the Sunbeam."

Horace " ces triplex,'" claimed for their trouble,

Who, as sea-goers, sails first unfurled;
Now, they 're not triple Brassey but double,

In a Sunbeam who sail round the world !

"amidst the unthankful thankful only he."

Mr. Unthank, for many years one of the Masters of the Oueen's
Bench, and well known and respected by many old comrades of the
Northern Circuit has, we are sorry to see, been compelled, " by the
failure of his health and strength," to resign his office.

It may well be called an unthankful office that resigns him ; but
let him be thankful that he has lived to resign it.

VOL. LXXIV.

I