DOI Heft:
June 12, 1880
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17763#0269
June 12, i»80.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 265
OUR SUNDAY—(DOWN EAST).
N. B.—Permission to include these lines in the Programme
of any Sabbatarian Penny Reiding may be obtained
from Mr. Punch.
Which is the day that should be blest,
And to the weary, work-opprest,
Bring wholesome pleasure, peace, and rest ?
Our Sunday.
Yet which the day of all the seven
To our sour lives adds sourer leaven,
And leaves poor folk most far from heaven P
Our Sunday.
When gutter-brats of tender years,
What filled our childish souls with fears
Of father’s curses, mother’s tears ?
Our Sunday.
What makes the sound of prayer and praise,
Heard ’mid our foul and filthy ways,
Like echoes of an empty phrase ?
Our Sunday!
What day down East,—where day’s half night,
While West-End wealth enjoys the light,—
Most feeds the public’s frowze and fight ?
Our Sunday!
What, when the week’s toil stills its din,
Proclaims each simple pleasure sin.
And, preaching grace, provideth gin?
Our Sunday!
What, when we strive up from our sink,
Our souls with nobler things to link,
Bars all,—but one bar labelled drink f
Our Sunday !
And, when of this world we are clear,
What is it, in another sphere,
Won’t be flung at us, as ’twas here P
Our Sunday!
Opposition Gloss.—Polemical Language :—language
used to bring Voters to the Poll.
“ THAT’S THE WAY THE MONEY GOES.”
The Annual Debate on the Vote for Secret Service failed to reveal
all the mysteries of this mysterious Fund. Those who crave for
further information on the subject should master the following
details, which will give them some idea of the sort of service which
year by year is rewarded and encouraged 9ut of the public money.
For obvious reasons initials only are given in some of the cases.
Cost of the chronometer (the very best that could be manufactured)
presented by the G-1 to S-l P——l, Esq., in gratitude for his
services in resigning his seat for D-y in favour of Sir W-M
H-T.
Cost of presents sent out per Right Hon. G. J. G-N.to the prin-
cipal inmates of the H-m of the S-n of T-Y, to induce them
to influence H. M. to give a favourable hearing to the propositions of
the A-r E-y. The presents included Worcester china,
Honiton lace, Paisley shawls, large selections from the stocks of
Messrs. Howell and James, and Hunt and Roskell, sets of lawn
tennis and croquet, complete sets of the works of Lord B-d and
Mr. G-e, and a varied assortment of sweetmeats from Messrs.
Fortnuh and Mason.
Cost of a complimentary present of a hogshead of the very strongest
Burton Ale to P-e B-k.
Expenses of Detectives employed to ascertain the exact amount of
damage done by hares and rabbits, both by day and night, on
certain selected farms in England and Wales, under the personal
supervision of the H-e S-y.
Opera-boxes, bouquets, and baskets of early strawberries, for the
female relatives of wavering supporters of the G-1, on the eve of
important divisions.
Cherry brandy, feathers, costumes of beads, materials for crewel
work, and a selection of the best Blue-books for doubtful Natives of
South Africa.
As doucers to Afghan Sirdars—refrigerators, dust-coats, dry cham-
pagne, pale ale, mineral waters, blue and while china, and ingots of
bullion from the vaults of the Bank of England.
We could say much more; but this, surely, will suffice to open the
eyes, and close the purses of the poor tax-payers!
DIARY OF THE BRITISH FARMER OF THE FUTURE.
Monday.—Hard at work in the Mulberry Plantation. Consulted
the Government Inspector about the threatened plague amongst the
silk-worms.
Tuesday— Got in the Rose harvest. Prepared the stills for the
distillation of next year’s Otto.
Wednesday.—Spent the day amongst the imported grapes, super-
intending the mixture of native perry and cider with Peninsular
produce.
Thursday.—Tried my new process for milking by machinery. The
cows, to my satisfaction, seemed readily accustomed to the noise of the
apparatus.
Friday.—Took a ride through the ground I still reserve for the
growth of oats and barley. The straw counts for something, but I
think I shall put the soil to a more profitable use next year.
Saturday.—Went up to the County town to do some marketing.
Brought home next week’s stock of foreign flour and meat for home
consumption.
Sunday.—Drove to church. Spent the afternoon in writing to my
sons now settled as old-fashioned British farmers in America.
Copyheads for Voters that Will Be.
A clear conscience lasts longer than a bread-and-beef ticket.
Welcome the Electioneering Agent, but do not burn his coals.
Wish everyone’s good health, but drink nobody’s.
You can show your respect for your party flag without dressing
your wife in it.
The sixpence that buys a single vote will sometimes sell a whole
borough.
Accept the Candidate’s assurance, but refuse his new hat.
Never sell your political birth-right for a gallon of porter.
Tell the truth and astonish the Commission.
Not so Easy.—What shall we do with “ Ouida” P—Weed Her!
SIMILiA SIMILIBliS.
Effie reads about Tadpoles, and wonders what on earth the Horrid
Little Creatures can really be like !
OUR SUNDAY—(DOWN EAST).
N. B.—Permission to include these lines in the Programme
of any Sabbatarian Penny Reiding may be obtained
from Mr. Punch.
Which is the day that should be blest,
And to the weary, work-opprest,
Bring wholesome pleasure, peace, and rest ?
Our Sunday.
Yet which the day of all the seven
To our sour lives adds sourer leaven,
And leaves poor folk most far from heaven P
Our Sunday.
When gutter-brats of tender years,
What filled our childish souls with fears
Of father’s curses, mother’s tears ?
Our Sunday.
What makes the sound of prayer and praise,
Heard ’mid our foul and filthy ways,
Like echoes of an empty phrase ?
Our Sunday!
What day down East,—where day’s half night,
While West-End wealth enjoys the light,—
Most feeds the public’s frowze and fight ?
Our Sunday!
What, when the week’s toil stills its din,
Proclaims each simple pleasure sin.
And, preaching grace, provideth gin?
Our Sunday!
What, when we strive up from our sink,
Our souls with nobler things to link,
Bars all,—but one bar labelled drink f
Our Sunday !
And, when of this world we are clear,
What is it, in another sphere,
Won’t be flung at us, as ’twas here P
Our Sunday!
Opposition Gloss.—Polemical Language :—language
used to bring Voters to the Poll.
“ THAT’S THE WAY THE MONEY GOES.”
The Annual Debate on the Vote for Secret Service failed to reveal
all the mysteries of this mysterious Fund. Those who crave for
further information on the subject should master the following
details, which will give them some idea of the sort of service which
year by year is rewarded and encouraged 9ut of the public money.
For obvious reasons initials only are given in some of the cases.
Cost of the chronometer (the very best that could be manufactured)
presented by the G-1 to S-l P——l, Esq., in gratitude for his
services in resigning his seat for D-y in favour of Sir W-M
H-T.
Cost of presents sent out per Right Hon. G. J. G-N.to the prin-
cipal inmates of the H-m of the S-n of T-Y, to induce them
to influence H. M. to give a favourable hearing to the propositions of
the A-r E-y. The presents included Worcester china,
Honiton lace, Paisley shawls, large selections from the stocks of
Messrs. Howell and James, and Hunt and Roskell, sets of lawn
tennis and croquet, complete sets of the works of Lord B-d and
Mr. G-e, and a varied assortment of sweetmeats from Messrs.
Fortnuh and Mason.
Cost of a complimentary present of a hogshead of the very strongest
Burton Ale to P-e B-k.
Expenses of Detectives employed to ascertain the exact amount of
damage done by hares and rabbits, both by day and night, on
certain selected farms in England and Wales, under the personal
supervision of the H-e S-y.
Opera-boxes, bouquets, and baskets of early strawberries, for the
female relatives of wavering supporters of the G-1, on the eve of
important divisions.
Cherry brandy, feathers, costumes of beads, materials for crewel
work, and a selection of the best Blue-books for doubtful Natives of
South Africa.
As doucers to Afghan Sirdars—refrigerators, dust-coats, dry cham-
pagne, pale ale, mineral waters, blue and while china, and ingots of
bullion from the vaults of the Bank of England.
We could say much more; but this, surely, will suffice to open the
eyes, and close the purses of the poor tax-payers!
DIARY OF THE BRITISH FARMER OF THE FUTURE.
Monday.—Hard at work in the Mulberry Plantation. Consulted
the Government Inspector about the threatened plague amongst the
silk-worms.
Tuesday— Got in the Rose harvest. Prepared the stills for the
distillation of next year’s Otto.
Wednesday.—Spent the day amongst the imported grapes, super-
intending the mixture of native perry and cider with Peninsular
produce.
Thursday.—Tried my new process for milking by machinery. The
cows, to my satisfaction, seemed readily accustomed to the noise of the
apparatus.
Friday.—Took a ride through the ground I still reserve for the
growth of oats and barley. The straw counts for something, but I
think I shall put the soil to a more profitable use next year.
Saturday.—Went up to the County town to do some marketing.
Brought home next week’s stock of foreign flour and meat for home
consumption.
Sunday.—Drove to church. Spent the afternoon in writing to my
sons now settled as old-fashioned British farmers in America.
Copyheads for Voters that Will Be.
A clear conscience lasts longer than a bread-and-beef ticket.
Welcome the Electioneering Agent, but do not burn his coals.
Wish everyone’s good health, but drink nobody’s.
You can show your respect for your party flag without dressing
your wife in it.
The sixpence that buys a single vote will sometimes sell a whole
borough.
Accept the Candidate’s assurance, but refuse his new hat.
Never sell your political birth-right for a gallon of porter.
Tell the truth and astonish the Commission.
Not so Easy.—What shall we do with “ Ouida” P—Weed Her!
SIMILiA SIMILIBliS.
Effie reads about Tadpoles, and wonders what on earth the Horrid
Little Creatures can really be like !