DOI issue:
June 5, 1880
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17763#0265
June 5, 1880.] PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
261
FLATTERY.
Artful Snip. “Dear me! Very sing’lar, Sir!—exact’ the measurement
of the ‘Apoller Belvidere,’ Sir ! ” [Customer orders a second Suit.
MORE SEATS AND SHORTER HOURS.
Mr. Punch has, with much sympathy for the poor
sufferers, been studying, in his excellent contemporary
the Lancet, some very painful revelations of the treat-
ment of poor shop-girls, employed at the great Mercers’,
and Linen-drapers’, and other marts for the sale of
women’s wares, or “wears,” as the word should be spelt,
so as to include both the garments of Lady-customers and
the wear and tear of the shop-girls who serve them.
When the cracking of a joke is likely to help the re-
moval of an abuse, 31r. Punch is content to crack his
joke and await the results. But this subject of seats and
shorter hours for shop-girls, Mr. Punch feels to be quite
beyond a joke.
The thoughtlessness of the more or less fine Ladies—
they are all alike — who, by their patronage without
protest help to keep alive what is at once a petty torture
on the strong, and. a great sanitary evil for the weak,
as well as the unfeeling greed of employers who sanc-
tion and superintend the torture, and perpetuate the
evil for their own benefit, lie out of the pale of Punch's
pleasantry. He can be angry over it, but not pleasant.
Public opinion has been directed to the matter.
Science has signalised the mischief, and insisted on a
remedy. A country where humanity interposes on be-
half of an over-driven cab-horse, will surely not go on
suffering hard-working, weak and defenceless girls to
be driven to death with impunity. It is only in a per-
centage of these shops that we come upon this inhuman
practice—over-driving young women, and not allowing
them the means of resting their weary limbs. Yes—
there is one other place in which seats are not allowed.
That is the House of Commons, but there the torture is
only inflicted on one-half of the Members. In houses of
business the better class of employers repudiate such
stupid and short-sighted inhumanity. Let the public,
the Ladies in particular, look out for the shops in which
these practices do not prevail, and confine their patron-
age to them. In this way even the most unfeeling
employers would learn practically that humanity, like
honesty, is the best policy, and act upon the principle.
An Oxford Mixture. Pepper and Salt [of the
Earth).—Harcourt and Plimsoll.
But now they sing great Gladstone’s praise
In tones of all unwonted love!
Beaconsfield’s “Peace with Honour 1 ” had its hour ;
Time robs such sounding phrases of their power,
Now William’s note of unison is heard,
And Europe, heart and voice, is stirred
To love, and warble—like a bird!
BEFORE THE DAMN.
[A Parliamentary Romance.)
“The House is too small fjr its purpose, and the accommodation for
Members, on a full night, is lamentably insufficient.”—Daily Paper.
With a measured tread the night-watchman left the dark and
now deserted Lobby of the Commous, and entered the House.
All was hushed as lo! the stillness of the tomb, and when the
reflective official turned the gleam of his bull’s-eye upon the worn
and tattered leather of the empty benches, it was with a sigh of
relief.
“ They have had another rough night of it,” he murmured to him-
self, “and some hundred and fifty of’em must have sat on each
other’s laps. But it’s over now ! ” He picked up a velvet collar, some
severed shirt-fronts, half an Ulster, and the wrecks of several hats as
he spoke. “Poor Gents,” he said, with a bitter smile, as he turned
oyer in the moonlight these melancholy evidences of the previous
night’s sharp struggle for seats, “poor Gents, it isn’t right to serve
’em like this. Why, they’d be better off in a cabman’s refuge! ”
There was no Speaker in the Chair now. He was not called to
order for this flash of sarcasm; but a feeble cry of “Hear!
Hear !” that seemed to come from under one of the back Opposition
benches, warned him that he was not alone.
In another instant he had bounded over the table ; and the piercing
ray of his lantern was illuminating a dusky something that was
now creeping out, slowly, on all fours, from under the fifth row of
seats.
To seize the intruder, hurl him to his feet on the floor of the House,
and hold the now gleaming lantern within an inch of his face, was
the work of a second. But the Bobby had scarcely put the stranger
through this, to him, familiar ordeal, when he fell back with a
respectful bow.
“ I beg your pardon, Sir,” he said. “ One of the new Members
pushed under the seat in the scuffle, by mistake F Allow me.”
The Bobby began to brush him down as he spoke. The stranger
looked at him with a curious fire in his eye.
“I was not pushed there by mistake,” he said, coldly. “ I crept
there by design.”
The iron tongue of old Big Ben above told the hour of three.
“ By design! ” exclaimed the Night-watchman, interrogatively.
“Yes,” continued the other, wearily, “I have been on my legs
ever since I was returned ; but I am determined to sit down at last.
I have come early to secure a seat for to~?norroiv's debate ! ”
The Father of Roads.
The Pall flail Gazette, quoted by Mr. E. F. Flower, was wrong
in its statement that Macadam, the Father of _ Road-making, was
ever a road-surveyor at Bristol. He was an active Ayrshire magis-
trate and trustee of roads, who wrote J.P. and D.L. after his name,
and it was not till he was sixty years old. that his attention was
first turned to the investigation of the scientific principles of road-
making.
His son and grandson—Mac Mac, and Mac Mac Mac-Adam—
were successively made Surveyors-General _ of the Roads of the
Kingdom. Would that the family still presided over the roads of
the Metropolis, and that London were, once more able “ Stare super
antiquas vias,” of the Macadamite period !
A Change for the Better.
While Hall for Harcourt Oxford takes,
On Beer for Brains of faith a pinner,
Harcourt, for Consolation Stakes,
Walks o’er the course—a Derby-winner!
261
FLATTERY.
Artful Snip. “Dear me! Very sing’lar, Sir!—exact’ the measurement
of the ‘Apoller Belvidere,’ Sir ! ” [Customer orders a second Suit.
MORE SEATS AND SHORTER HOURS.
Mr. Punch has, with much sympathy for the poor
sufferers, been studying, in his excellent contemporary
the Lancet, some very painful revelations of the treat-
ment of poor shop-girls, employed at the great Mercers’,
and Linen-drapers’, and other marts for the sale of
women’s wares, or “wears,” as the word should be spelt,
so as to include both the garments of Lady-customers and
the wear and tear of the shop-girls who serve them.
When the cracking of a joke is likely to help the re-
moval of an abuse, 31r. Punch is content to crack his
joke and await the results. But this subject of seats and
shorter hours for shop-girls, Mr. Punch feels to be quite
beyond a joke.
The thoughtlessness of the more or less fine Ladies—
they are all alike — who, by their patronage without
protest help to keep alive what is at once a petty torture
on the strong, and. a great sanitary evil for the weak,
as well as the unfeeling greed of employers who sanc-
tion and superintend the torture, and perpetuate the
evil for their own benefit, lie out of the pale of Punch's
pleasantry. He can be angry over it, but not pleasant.
Public opinion has been directed to the matter.
Science has signalised the mischief, and insisted on a
remedy. A country where humanity interposes on be-
half of an over-driven cab-horse, will surely not go on
suffering hard-working, weak and defenceless girls to
be driven to death with impunity. It is only in a per-
centage of these shops that we come upon this inhuman
practice—over-driving young women, and not allowing
them the means of resting their weary limbs. Yes—
there is one other place in which seats are not allowed.
That is the House of Commons, but there the torture is
only inflicted on one-half of the Members. In houses of
business the better class of employers repudiate such
stupid and short-sighted inhumanity. Let the public,
the Ladies in particular, look out for the shops in which
these practices do not prevail, and confine their patron-
age to them. In this way even the most unfeeling
employers would learn practically that humanity, like
honesty, is the best policy, and act upon the principle.
An Oxford Mixture. Pepper and Salt [of the
Earth).—Harcourt and Plimsoll.
But now they sing great Gladstone’s praise
In tones of all unwonted love!
Beaconsfield’s “Peace with Honour 1 ” had its hour ;
Time robs such sounding phrases of their power,
Now William’s note of unison is heard,
And Europe, heart and voice, is stirred
To love, and warble—like a bird!
BEFORE THE DAMN.
[A Parliamentary Romance.)
“The House is too small fjr its purpose, and the accommodation for
Members, on a full night, is lamentably insufficient.”—Daily Paper.
With a measured tread the night-watchman left the dark and
now deserted Lobby of the Commous, and entered the House.
All was hushed as lo! the stillness of the tomb, and when the
reflective official turned the gleam of his bull’s-eye upon the worn
and tattered leather of the empty benches, it was with a sigh of
relief.
“ They have had another rough night of it,” he murmured to him-
self, “and some hundred and fifty of’em must have sat on each
other’s laps. But it’s over now ! ” He picked up a velvet collar, some
severed shirt-fronts, half an Ulster, and the wrecks of several hats as
he spoke. “Poor Gents,” he said, with a bitter smile, as he turned
oyer in the moonlight these melancholy evidences of the previous
night’s sharp struggle for seats, “poor Gents, it isn’t right to serve
’em like this. Why, they’d be better off in a cabman’s refuge! ”
There was no Speaker in the Chair now. He was not called to
order for this flash of sarcasm; but a feeble cry of “Hear!
Hear !” that seemed to come from under one of the back Opposition
benches, warned him that he was not alone.
In another instant he had bounded over the table ; and the piercing
ray of his lantern was illuminating a dusky something that was
now creeping out, slowly, on all fours, from under the fifth row of
seats.
To seize the intruder, hurl him to his feet on the floor of the House,
and hold the now gleaming lantern within an inch of his face, was
the work of a second. But the Bobby had scarcely put the stranger
through this, to him, familiar ordeal, when he fell back with a
respectful bow.
“ I beg your pardon, Sir,” he said. “ One of the new Members
pushed under the seat in the scuffle, by mistake F Allow me.”
The Bobby began to brush him down as he spoke. The stranger
looked at him with a curious fire in his eye.
“I was not pushed there by mistake,” he said, coldly. “ I crept
there by design.”
The iron tongue of old Big Ben above told the hour of three.
“ By design! ” exclaimed the Night-watchman, interrogatively.
“Yes,” continued the other, wearily, “I have been on my legs
ever since I was returned ; but I am determined to sit down at last.
I have come early to secure a seat for to~?norroiv's debate ! ”
The Father of Roads.
The Pall flail Gazette, quoted by Mr. E. F. Flower, was wrong
in its statement that Macadam, the Father of _ Road-making, was
ever a road-surveyor at Bristol. He was an active Ayrshire magis-
trate and trustee of roads, who wrote J.P. and D.L. after his name,
and it was not till he was sixty years old. that his attention was
first turned to the investigation of the scientific principles of road-
making.
His son and grandson—Mac Mac, and Mac Mac Mac-Adam—
were successively made Surveyors-General _ of the Roads of the
Kingdom. Would that the family still presided over the roads of
the Metropolis, and that London were, once more able “ Stare super
antiquas vias,” of the Macadamite period !
A Change for the Better.
While Hall for Harcourt Oxford takes,
On Beer for Brains of faith a pinner,
Harcourt, for Consolation Stakes,
Walks o’er the course—a Derby-winner!