DOI Heft:
October 30, 1880
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17764#0201
October 30, 1880.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
193
QUITE TIP-TOP.
The Topographical Society met a
the Mansion House on Thursday, the
Lord Mayor at the top of the table.
The arguments were entirely super-
ficial. All sorts of Topics were dis-
cussed, and several sorts of Tops
exhibited, including Humming-Tops
and Whipping-Tops. But among
all the specimens the Turnip-Tops
attracted the most attention. On
the subject of Whipping-Tops Sir
Vernon Harcourt would have read
an interesting paper had he been pre-
sent. Competent critics to whom it
had been read in private pronounced
it “ a regular Topper.” “ Top-dress-
ing” was illustrated by a Vegetable
Hardener; and, after the Lord Mayor
had said “ summit,” the members
put on their Top-hats, and the meet-
ing was adjourned.
DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE.
Young Shaver. “Bet yer Tuppence, I’m home first ! ”
SUPPLYING A WANT.
Thf. British Museum Authorities
are going to move the Zoological
specimens to another part of the
building, and the vacated gallery is
to be made a refreshment-room for
visitors. They can now advertise
“ Good Accommodation for Man and
Beast.”
MYSTERIOUS WIRES.
A very slight idea of the dissensions at present raging amongst
Her Majesty’s Ministers can be gathered from the following tele-
grams, forwarded to us by an esteemed Conservative Correspondent.
We don’t believe for a moment that he would send us any informa-
tion that wasn’t strictly authentic ; yet as he has only just returned
to Town from Dartmoor, and his imagination sometimes is known
to run away with him, we are a little hit surprised how he has got
hold of the subjoined most important documents. However, we
suppose it’s all right:—
Earl Gr-nv-lle to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—Very sorry to bother you, but
unless I clearly understand how far you intend to carry this idiotic
Naval Demonstration. I really must resign.
Mr. Gl-dst-ne to Earl Gr-nv-lle.—Can you clearly understand
anything ?—that’s the question. Everything will come right. Leave
it to me.
Earl Gr-nv-lle to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—Just what I refuse to do. Am
I Foreign Secretary, or not ? Usurpation of three Offices by the
Head of the Government is an unheard-of and unconstitutional
anomaly. Wire back whether I’m Foreign Secretary or not, and
whether I can use my own discretion in Eastern business.
Mr. Gl-dst-ne to Earl Gr-nv-lle.—Of course you’re Foreign
Secretary—look it up in Whitaker. Use your own discretion by all
means, but come to me before you do anything. That’s all.
Sir Ch-rl-s D-lke to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—I don’t like making a fuss,
but really must resign unless we punch the Sultan’s head instanter.
G-mb-tta quite agrees with me.
Mr. Br-ght to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—Rumours of Coercion and Bom-
bardment. Wire back if true. If true, I resign. Can’t stand quite
all that, you know; must keep up appearances, “peace at any
price,” &c.
Mr. Gl-dst-ne to Mr. Br-ght.—Just so—“piece” (of Turkey)
“at any price”—quite agree with you. We’ll get it too—jolly
large piece—so’ll.Russia—so’ll Austria. You leave D-lke to settle
Subtan—all’s going well, couldn’t be better.
Mr. F-rst-r to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—Unless you call Parliament to-
gether at once, and get Habeas Corpus suspended all over Ireland, I
really must think about—resigning.
Mr. Gl-dst-ne to Mr. F-rst-r.—“ Et tu, Brute!” Ireland not
half so bad as you imagine—distorted imagination—wait for Irish
Land Bill—prosecute Parnell, &c., if you must do something.
Mr. F-rst-r to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—Am I Irish Secretary or not?
Which is most likely to know about Ireland, you in Downing Street,
or I in Phoenix Park ?
Mr. Gl-dst-ne to Mr. F-rst-r.—I guessed your riddle at once. I
in Downing Street, of course. Try another.
Lord S-lh-rne to Mr. Gladstone.—I say, how about the Land ?
No revolutionary changes, please. Don’t mind Cairns’s old bills
but. a step f urther ! and—I resign.
Mr. Ch-mh-rl-n to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—Hope you ’re going on with
Land Bills for next Session. Give it the landlords hot. Don’t mind
old S-lb-rne ; he’s a reactionary. Buy up all the land in the
country—that’s the plan—and sell it again to people. Buy cheap,
and sell dear ; thus you combine Statesmanship and true commercial
principles. If you don’t do this, I need hardly say that I shall be
forced to—resign.
After this, the Premier quitted Downing Street hastily, our Cor-
respondent informs us, and left strict inj unctions that no letters or
telegrams were to be forwarded to him for the next month. His
present whereabouts is unknown, even to his nearest and dearest
friends.
OCTOBER 20, 1880.
Get out all the warmest of wrappers,
Soft sealskin, opossum, racoon,
The animals hunted by trappers,
Each fur in the winter a boon,
For skies they are “ashen and sober’
(E. Poe has suggested that rhyme),
Here’s snow in the month of October
Too early a time !
Is this the commencement of winter,
With snow and with sleet and with
fog?
Ho ! Gardener, bring in the splinter
Of oak, for the festive Yule Log.
And surely res triplex et robur
His heart must encompass, who’ll
dare
To calmly behold an October
With snow in the air.
Sad Tale of a Comet.
A Scientific Contemporary says
“ Hartwig’s comet is now not far from a Ophiuchi; it is receding from
the earth and becoming rapidly fainter.”
Poor creature! “ Becoming rapidly fainter ” ? Why doesn’t it
get some relief from the Milky Whey ? Or—why doesn’t Hartwig
look after it himself! Dash his wig ! But perhaps he hasn’t got
one or a heart either. Then why call himself Hartwig ? Bah !
Vol. 79.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
193
QUITE TIP-TOP.
The Topographical Society met a
the Mansion House on Thursday, the
Lord Mayor at the top of the table.
The arguments were entirely super-
ficial. All sorts of Topics were dis-
cussed, and several sorts of Tops
exhibited, including Humming-Tops
and Whipping-Tops. But among
all the specimens the Turnip-Tops
attracted the most attention. On
the subject of Whipping-Tops Sir
Vernon Harcourt would have read
an interesting paper had he been pre-
sent. Competent critics to whom it
had been read in private pronounced
it “ a regular Topper.” “ Top-dress-
ing” was illustrated by a Vegetable
Hardener; and, after the Lord Mayor
had said “ summit,” the members
put on their Top-hats, and the meet-
ing was adjourned.
DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE.
Young Shaver. “Bet yer Tuppence, I’m home first ! ”
SUPPLYING A WANT.
Thf. British Museum Authorities
are going to move the Zoological
specimens to another part of the
building, and the vacated gallery is
to be made a refreshment-room for
visitors. They can now advertise
“ Good Accommodation for Man and
Beast.”
MYSTERIOUS WIRES.
A very slight idea of the dissensions at present raging amongst
Her Majesty’s Ministers can be gathered from the following tele-
grams, forwarded to us by an esteemed Conservative Correspondent.
We don’t believe for a moment that he would send us any informa-
tion that wasn’t strictly authentic ; yet as he has only just returned
to Town from Dartmoor, and his imagination sometimes is known
to run away with him, we are a little hit surprised how he has got
hold of the subjoined most important documents. However, we
suppose it’s all right:—
Earl Gr-nv-lle to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—Very sorry to bother you, but
unless I clearly understand how far you intend to carry this idiotic
Naval Demonstration. I really must resign.
Mr. Gl-dst-ne to Earl Gr-nv-lle.—Can you clearly understand
anything ?—that’s the question. Everything will come right. Leave
it to me.
Earl Gr-nv-lle to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—Just what I refuse to do. Am
I Foreign Secretary, or not ? Usurpation of three Offices by the
Head of the Government is an unheard-of and unconstitutional
anomaly. Wire back whether I’m Foreign Secretary or not, and
whether I can use my own discretion in Eastern business.
Mr. Gl-dst-ne to Earl Gr-nv-lle.—Of course you’re Foreign
Secretary—look it up in Whitaker. Use your own discretion by all
means, but come to me before you do anything. That’s all.
Sir Ch-rl-s D-lke to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—I don’t like making a fuss,
but really must resign unless we punch the Sultan’s head instanter.
G-mb-tta quite agrees with me.
Mr. Br-ght to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—Rumours of Coercion and Bom-
bardment. Wire back if true. If true, I resign. Can’t stand quite
all that, you know; must keep up appearances, “peace at any
price,” &c.
Mr. Gl-dst-ne to Mr. Br-ght.—Just so—“piece” (of Turkey)
“at any price”—quite agree with you. We’ll get it too—jolly
large piece—so’ll.Russia—so’ll Austria. You leave D-lke to settle
Subtan—all’s going well, couldn’t be better.
Mr. F-rst-r to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—Unless you call Parliament to-
gether at once, and get Habeas Corpus suspended all over Ireland, I
really must think about—resigning.
Mr. Gl-dst-ne to Mr. F-rst-r.—“ Et tu, Brute!” Ireland not
half so bad as you imagine—distorted imagination—wait for Irish
Land Bill—prosecute Parnell, &c., if you must do something.
Mr. F-rst-r to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—Am I Irish Secretary or not?
Which is most likely to know about Ireland, you in Downing Street,
or I in Phoenix Park ?
Mr. Gl-dst-ne to Mr. F-rst-r.—I guessed your riddle at once. I
in Downing Street, of course. Try another.
Lord S-lh-rne to Mr. Gladstone.—I say, how about the Land ?
No revolutionary changes, please. Don’t mind Cairns’s old bills
but. a step f urther ! and—I resign.
Mr. Ch-mh-rl-n to Mr. Gl-dst-ne.—Hope you ’re going on with
Land Bills for next Session. Give it the landlords hot. Don’t mind
old S-lb-rne ; he’s a reactionary. Buy up all the land in the
country—that’s the plan—and sell it again to people. Buy cheap,
and sell dear ; thus you combine Statesmanship and true commercial
principles. If you don’t do this, I need hardly say that I shall be
forced to—resign.
After this, the Premier quitted Downing Street hastily, our Cor-
respondent informs us, and left strict inj unctions that no letters or
telegrams were to be forwarded to him for the next month. His
present whereabouts is unknown, even to his nearest and dearest
friends.
OCTOBER 20, 1880.
Get out all the warmest of wrappers,
Soft sealskin, opossum, racoon,
The animals hunted by trappers,
Each fur in the winter a boon,
For skies they are “ashen and sober’
(E. Poe has suggested that rhyme),
Here’s snow in the month of October
Too early a time !
Is this the commencement of winter,
With snow and with sleet and with
fog?
Ho ! Gardener, bring in the splinter
Of oak, for the festive Yule Log.
And surely res triplex et robur
His heart must encompass, who’ll
dare
To calmly behold an October
With snow in the air.
Sad Tale of a Comet.
A Scientific Contemporary says
“ Hartwig’s comet is now not far from a Ophiuchi; it is receding from
the earth and becoming rapidly fainter.”
Poor creature! “ Becoming rapidly fainter ” ? Why doesn’t it
get some relief from the Milky Whey ? Or—why doesn’t Hartwig
look after it himself! Dash his wig ! But perhaps he hasn’t got
one or a heart either. Then why call himself Hartwig ? Bah !
Vol. 79.