Punch: Punch (75.1878)

September 21, 1878.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

121

AT LAST!

'AERY ON POOTY WOMEN.

Dear Charlie,

I send ye the photers you arsked me to git, in your last.
They 're a nice little lot, and no error ; the pink of the swell and the
fast;

Which the two nowadays is so mixed, it's no use to try drorin' the
line.

There is parties as don't like the "blend," hut their humbuggin'
notions ain't mine.

I am nuts on nice gals, as you know ; pooty faces, and Aggers, and
that,

Are things as I tumble to quick; I'm a 'ot 'un, mate, all round my 'at.
And I hold that this photygraff fakement is proper; it gives yer a
peep

At a lot as you couldn't be fly to no otherways—not on the cheap.

That's it, don't yer know ! Done on canyas these prime 'uns 'ud
cost, oh ! a pile.

But now, for a bob, you can twig 'em familiar like, doing a smile,
Or tipping the wink confidential, as if you wos one of their lot,
And figged out in wot they calls dishabille, took, I should say, when
it's 'ot.

The tip-tops are losing their stiffness; the grand highty-tighty
don't pay;

"Which is wot, as I've mentioned afore, is the 'opefullest mark of
the day :

I'm a bit of a bloomin' feelosopher, Charlie, my boy, as you know,
And there's lots to be learned from the text of " One shillin' a-piece,
all this row."

There's the Qxjeen—she ain't much to be sure—and there's Bessie

Bolair of the Cri. :
By Jingo, 'er bust is a buster, and hasn't she jest got an eye ?
Then comes Mrs. Threestars, of Thingummy, one of the horty

heleet,

And I'm blowed if she doesn't run Bessie a close 'un in figger and
feet !

" Mixed pickles," my boy, and no kid. Oh, I've got a whole pile at
my den ;

They'd be flattered to hear the remarks when I'm trottin' 'em hout
to our men.

To git 'em, jest like tea and srimps at a shillin' a 'ead for the lot,
Is prime ; and it's kind of 'em, Charlie, most kind of 'em, blest if
it's not.

In course their sole haim's to oblige hus ; they carn't care a cuss for
the cash.

With the batch as I sends yer per post you '11 be able to cut quite a
dash,

And astonish the rurals a few, as they mayn't be quite up to it yet,
With the sight of the town's latest belle tceeze-a-wee with the
holly's last pet.

I 'ave heard soapy sneakers protest, and declare the whole thing
infry dig,

But I think they 'ad best stow their sermons ; I do 'ate a sport-spiling

If the Swellesses likes to be looked at in attitoods yum-yum by hus,
There's no gent with a taste 'ud object, though they hogled a 'un-
dred times wus.

Which they can cast sheep's eyes and no error, the profession don't

touch 'em at that,
But a pooty gal, gentle, or simple, as carn't use her glims is a flat.
It's that and the spicey-cut toggery fetches me Charlie, that's poz,
And if you don't say werry much ditto, you ain't arf the 'ot 'un you

wos.

"Pooty souls! " When I sits with my halbum, jest like that old

bloke in the play,
(A nice cup o' tea that, old Mivvey !) I feel as we 're on the right lay.
—Don't know, as the tub-thumpers' spout, that the lion lies down

with the lamb,

But Society's "lions," at least, wag their tails on the cheap, and
that's jam.

Wot the 'usbands and brothers thinks on it is more than yours truly
can tell,

But I s'pose one must pocket some pride, if one's game is to smack
of the Swell.

It ain't any use to go sticking up " private " on all o' your doors,
'Cos yer see if the public means twigging, sech posters it jolly soon
floors.

I say it's one more to our side ; shows the toffs give us credit for
taste ;

And I flatter myself I've a hej-e for the turn of a hankie or waist :
There is one in your lot jest my sort, if I made up my book for to
marry;

You see if you 're able to spot 'er. Meanwhile, I'm

Yours, nobbily,

'Arry.

EQUIVOCAL ANNOUNCEMENT.

An Irish contemporary prints and publishes a "Want" expressed
with a dubious perspicuity:—

LODGINGS.-—Wanted, in a Christian or Protestant Family, of
scrupulously clean habits, one Furnished Eooni, at £1 per month, about
a quarter of an hour from town.—Address, "Economy," office of this paper.

By the disjunctive particle " or" interposed between " Christian"
and " Protestant," it may be surmised that the advertiser means to
differentiate "Protestant" from "Christian," and express an idea
that Protestants are not Christians. On the contrary, we may take
" or " in the sense of " otherwise," implying the notion that Protest-
ant and Christian are convertible terms, and that Protestants are the
only Christians. "Economy" seems economical in the use of words
in a degree amounting to parsimony.

vol. lxxv. 1,1