October 5, 1878.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 145
AN UNWIELDY CAB-FARE.
THE LAMENT OF THE YASE.
[Lately echoed from the Louvre.)
Fashioned by heroic hands,
Graced I once old Priam's table,
Saw the rage of Argive bands,
Watched sweet Helen" fade in fable:
Till fair Athens rose, and I,
'Mid her cherished treasures numbered,
Told her of the times gone by,
Of the dead that with them slumbered.
And as cycles sank away,
Rome, the mighty spoiler, found me
Witness of her splendid sway,
While her triumph rang around me :
Witness—till her sand was run,
And, in whirl of Northern thunder,
Trampling Vandal, Goth, and Hun
Rent her giant strength in sunder !
Yet intact was I, and whole,
Destined for the joy of sages
Thankful for this scanty dole
Wrested from the grasping ages.
And they gently took me hence,
Pondered o'er my mist-veiled story ;
Honoured me with throne and fence,
Set me up in single glory.
Yet in vain they marked my grace,
Marshalled savans round about me—
Where I stood an empty space,
Says the world must live without me !
Yes !—for spite cost, care,—each boon,—
Tenderness that quite abashed me,—
Suddenly, this afternoon,
A Juvenile Attempt.
The Porte is itself again. A telegram
from Constantinople announces tbat:—■
" The Turkish, authorities are re-established at
Sis."
So they are once more in the Imperative
Mood, Present Tense. Or the Potential Mood,
Present Tense, Second Person Singidar—■
whichever you please, Sir.
HOW TO ENJOY A HOLIDAY IN PAEIS.
{By a Cynic, who has Attempted it.)
Tare with you twice as much luggage as you can possibly
require/to get lost on the railway, and to cause inconvenience and
waste of time at the Custom House.
Depart by a train that entails getting up in the middle of the
night, and breakfasting hurriedly in the early morning.
Cross over the sea in a ridiculously small steamer, which, over-
crowded with passengers and luggage, rolls at the approach of every
wavelet; or select a larger vessel infested with pickpockets.
Still suffering from the effects of a disagreeable voyage, hurry into
a stuffy railway carriage, and spend half a dozen hours or so in it on
your road to Paris.
Arrived in the gay Capital, select a large and comfortless Hotel,
where you will be known as a number and treated as a cypher.
Dine at a bad and expensive table d'hote, where you will be invited
to partake of a morsel of four-and-twenty dishes in half as many
minutes.
Hurry away to an overcrowded Theatre, and sit out for five hours
a play either painfully frivolous, grossly immoral, absurdly sensa-
tional, or a combination of all three.
Rise early the next morning, and visit your favourite haunt in
search of breakfast. Spend a couple of hours in the midst of a
hungry throng, all attempting in vain to attract the notice of a few
overworked waiters, vaguely carrying about some under-cooked
dishes. Eat what you can secure, pay what you are forced to give,
and come out half-starved and grumbling.
Lounge on the Boulevards, and submit to be elbowed off the pave-
ment by the " brazen youth " of Dalston, Brixton, and other equally
fashionable suburbs, and a few scores of thousands of personally-
conducted Tourists.
Look into the shops, and notice that they are rilled with English
goods.
Leave the streets, and, for the first time for many years, "do"
the sights. Discover, when it is too late to retrace your steps, that
the " Monuments of Paris " are in the hands of a gigantic crew of
plebeian, uncultivated, and unappreciative excursionists.
As a last resource, visit the Exhibition and renew your acquaint-
ance with the wonders of the Rue de Rivoli, Regent Street, Friedrich
Strasse, Broadway, and several foreign imitations of the Tottenham
Court Road.
Weary of the well-known triumphs of commerce, as displayed in
chocolate drops, writing desks, easy chairs, and other equally inter-
esting articles, walk into the Machinery Department, and secure a
headache by watching the rather clumsy manufacture of a hat, a
pill-box, or a pair of braces.
To regain your habitual calm, visit the Fine Art Galleries, and
inspect the tarnished glories (?) of past and forgotten Royal Academy
Exhibitions, Salons, and other Annual Collections of Pictures held
in different parts of Europe.
Still in search of composure, stroll into the grounds and gaze upon
theatrical representations of Asiatic houses and Japanese shop-
keepers selling their native manufactures at exorbitant rates.
Tired to death of the Exhibition, return to your hotel in a badly-
horsed, highly-priced, and broken-down Victoria, and find the place
more crowded and more uncomfortable than ever.
Spend a month or six weeks dismally, finding Paris Avithout the
Parisians, the Boulevards without the glories of the shops, and the
Theatres without the novelties.
Then, when you are quite bored, crush into a crowded train,
embark in a thronged boat, and get home as best you can, thanking
your lucky stars the while that you are once more housed in London.
" Cum Grano."
OUR Muscular Christian friend, Milo Allsides, hearing Mr.
Corxey Grain most justly spoken of as " one out of ten thousand,"
innocently asked, " Does that mean that ten thousand common men
had to be threshed to produce such a sample of Grain ? "
vol. lx5v.
0
AN UNWIELDY CAB-FARE.
THE LAMENT OF THE YASE.
[Lately echoed from the Louvre.)
Fashioned by heroic hands,
Graced I once old Priam's table,
Saw the rage of Argive bands,
Watched sweet Helen" fade in fable:
Till fair Athens rose, and I,
'Mid her cherished treasures numbered,
Told her of the times gone by,
Of the dead that with them slumbered.
And as cycles sank away,
Rome, the mighty spoiler, found me
Witness of her splendid sway,
While her triumph rang around me :
Witness—till her sand was run,
And, in whirl of Northern thunder,
Trampling Vandal, Goth, and Hun
Rent her giant strength in sunder !
Yet intact was I, and whole,
Destined for the joy of sages
Thankful for this scanty dole
Wrested from the grasping ages.
And they gently took me hence,
Pondered o'er my mist-veiled story ;
Honoured me with throne and fence,
Set me up in single glory.
Yet in vain they marked my grace,
Marshalled savans round about me—
Where I stood an empty space,
Says the world must live without me !
Yes !—for spite cost, care,—each boon,—
Tenderness that quite abashed me,—
Suddenly, this afternoon,
A Juvenile Attempt.
The Porte is itself again. A telegram
from Constantinople announces tbat:—■
" The Turkish, authorities are re-established at
Sis."
So they are once more in the Imperative
Mood, Present Tense. Or the Potential Mood,
Present Tense, Second Person Singidar—■
whichever you please, Sir.
HOW TO ENJOY A HOLIDAY IN PAEIS.
{By a Cynic, who has Attempted it.)
Tare with you twice as much luggage as you can possibly
require/to get lost on the railway, and to cause inconvenience and
waste of time at the Custom House.
Depart by a train that entails getting up in the middle of the
night, and breakfasting hurriedly in the early morning.
Cross over the sea in a ridiculously small steamer, which, over-
crowded with passengers and luggage, rolls at the approach of every
wavelet; or select a larger vessel infested with pickpockets.
Still suffering from the effects of a disagreeable voyage, hurry into
a stuffy railway carriage, and spend half a dozen hours or so in it on
your road to Paris.
Arrived in the gay Capital, select a large and comfortless Hotel,
where you will be known as a number and treated as a cypher.
Dine at a bad and expensive table d'hote, where you will be invited
to partake of a morsel of four-and-twenty dishes in half as many
minutes.
Hurry away to an overcrowded Theatre, and sit out for five hours
a play either painfully frivolous, grossly immoral, absurdly sensa-
tional, or a combination of all three.
Rise early the next morning, and visit your favourite haunt in
search of breakfast. Spend a couple of hours in the midst of a
hungry throng, all attempting in vain to attract the notice of a few
overworked waiters, vaguely carrying about some under-cooked
dishes. Eat what you can secure, pay what you are forced to give,
and come out half-starved and grumbling.
Lounge on the Boulevards, and submit to be elbowed off the pave-
ment by the " brazen youth " of Dalston, Brixton, and other equally
fashionable suburbs, and a few scores of thousands of personally-
conducted Tourists.
Look into the shops, and notice that they are rilled with English
goods.
Leave the streets, and, for the first time for many years, "do"
the sights. Discover, when it is too late to retrace your steps, that
the " Monuments of Paris " are in the hands of a gigantic crew of
plebeian, uncultivated, and unappreciative excursionists.
As a last resource, visit the Exhibition and renew your acquaint-
ance with the wonders of the Rue de Rivoli, Regent Street, Friedrich
Strasse, Broadway, and several foreign imitations of the Tottenham
Court Road.
Weary of the well-known triumphs of commerce, as displayed in
chocolate drops, writing desks, easy chairs, and other equally inter-
esting articles, walk into the Machinery Department, and secure a
headache by watching the rather clumsy manufacture of a hat, a
pill-box, or a pair of braces.
To regain your habitual calm, visit the Fine Art Galleries, and
inspect the tarnished glories (?) of past and forgotten Royal Academy
Exhibitions, Salons, and other Annual Collections of Pictures held
in different parts of Europe.
Still in search of composure, stroll into the grounds and gaze upon
theatrical representations of Asiatic houses and Japanese shop-
keepers selling their native manufactures at exorbitant rates.
Tired to death of the Exhibition, return to your hotel in a badly-
horsed, highly-priced, and broken-down Victoria, and find the place
more crowded and more uncomfortable than ever.
Spend a month or six weeks dismally, finding Paris Avithout the
Parisians, the Boulevards without the glories of the shops, and the
Theatres without the novelties.
Then, when you are quite bored, crush into a crowded train,
embark in a thronged boat, and get home as best you can, thanking
your lucky stars the while that you are once more housed in London.
" Cum Grano."
OUR Muscular Christian friend, Milo Allsides, hearing Mr.
Corxey Grain most justly spoken of as " one out of ten thousand,"
innocently asked, " Does that mean that ten thousand common men
had to be threshed to produce such a sample of Grain ? "
vol. lx5v.
0
Werk/Gegenstand/Objekt
Titel
Titel/Objekt
Punch
Sachbegriff/Objekttyp
Inschrift/Wasserzeichen
Aufbewahrung/Standort
Aufbewahrungsort/Standort (GND)
Inv. Nr./Signatur
H 634-3 Folio
Objektbeschreibung
Maß-/Formatangaben
Auflage/Druckzustand
Werktitel/Werkverzeichnis
Herstellung/Entstehung
Künstler/Urheber/Hersteller (GND)
Entstehungsdatum
um 1878
Entstehungsdatum (normiert)
1873 - 1883
Entstehungsort (GND)
Auftrag
Publikation
Fund/Ausgrabung
Provenienz
Restaurierung
Sammlung Eingang
Ausstellung
Bearbeitung/Umgestaltung
Thema/Bildinhalt
Thema/Bildinhalt (GND)