DOI Heft:
January 14, 1882
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17752#0026
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [January h, 1882.
THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID.
Proucl Mcimma. “Don’t you think dear Baby ’s the Image of his Papa ?”
Dull but Well-meaning Family Friencl. “ Well, perhaps he is—but I dare say he ’ll outgp.ow it in time.”
MURDER MADE EASY.
A liallad d la Mode. By “ Brother Jonathan ” Wilde.
An Age of Liberty, Science, and. Light,
(O Dynamite, Aconite, Bowies, and Colts !)
Constraints and restrictions are odious, quite ;
E’en mild prohibition the mind revolts.
And as for our Bill—we mean Willtam de Sikes,
(0 smart Six-Shooters and Conical Shots !)
He may purchase as many small-bores as he likes,
He will find them at every Pawnbroker’s—lots.
Ab, let ’s have Free Trade in each drug that will kill,
(O Bombs and Gun- Cotton, Dagger and Boivl !)
Rossa’s Osmic Acid, Lord Lytton’s strange “ Yril,”
Or aught that will deftly part body and soul.
What! tie up our intellects, shackle our hands F
(O Knives, Nux Vomica, Bullets, and Brains !)
Pooh, pooh ! We have shaken off babyhood’s bands,
Cast off the caution that checks and restrains.
Science her terriblest tale has told.
(0 Cocculus Indicus, Barrels, and Blades !)
Nothing her hands from the herd withhold,
Silence no longer her sanctum shades.
A jovial time—for burglarious folk,
(O Fenians, Nihilists, Poisoning Worms !)
For all who desire by a dexterous stroke
To settle a life on the easiest terms.
But as for Policemen, or parties with cash,
(O the Pistol, the Poison, the pilfered Gem !)
Perhaps on the whole ’twere a little bit ras’
To call it a jovial time—for them !
All her Arcana are free to all.
(0 Arsenic, Gunpowder, Shots, and Stabs !)
From public platforms her charms she ’ll call,
In penny numbers her mysteries blabs.
Just as it ought to be, who ’ll dare doubt r
(O Nitroglycerine, Potions, and Pills !)
Freedom we can’t and we won’t do without,
Even the freedom that maims or kills.
A Borgia now need not work on the sly,
(O Aqua Tofana, Stilettoes, and Snakes !)
A Romeo need not in secresy buy
Of a sinister Sawbones all shivers and shakes.
^ He may pick out a lamp-litten chemist’s shop,
(0 Belladonna and Prussic Acid !)
And into it boldly and pleasantly pop,
They ’ll deal him out death with complacency plaeid.
“ What with the Clubs, the Continental and the Bristol,” says
Mrs. Ramsbotham, “ the young men have all become such pedicures!
that they turn up their noses at my old-fashioned English dinners.”
To an iEsth.etic Poet.
“ I write verse for men, not women,” the AEsthetic Poet crisd,
As he poured forth sensuous stanzas of his sick’ning maudlin gush ;
And Punch answers, “ Would the pillory as in old days were tried,
For the writer "ho can offer e’en to men what makes them blush! ,y
The Marwood family—hang it! we beg Mr. Maravood’s pardon,.
we mean the Morewood family—have been going it. They went for
their big brother on Sunday, as they had no sort of reason for an.
assault on Mundy.
THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID.
Proucl Mcimma. “Don’t you think dear Baby ’s the Image of his Papa ?”
Dull but Well-meaning Family Friencl. “ Well, perhaps he is—but I dare say he ’ll outgp.ow it in time.”
MURDER MADE EASY.
A liallad d la Mode. By “ Brother Jonathan ” Wilde.
An Age of Liberty, Science, and. Light,
(O Dynamite, Aconite, Bowies, and Colts !)
Constraints and restrictions are odious, quite ;
E’en mild prohibition the mind revolts.
And as for our Bill—we mean Willtam de Sikes,
(0 smart Six-Shooters and Conical Shots !)
He may purchase as many small-bores as he likes,
He will find them at every Pawnbroker’s—lots.
Ab, let ’s have Free Trade in each drug that will kill,
(O Bombs and Gun- Cotton, Dagger and Boivl !)
Rossa’s Osmic Acid, Lord Lytton’s strange “ Yril,”
Or aught that will deftly part body and soul.
What! tie up our intellects, shackle our hands F
(O Knives, Nux Vomica, Bullets, and Brains !)
Pooh, pooh ! We have shaken off babyhood’s bands,
Cast off the caution that checks and restrains.
Science her terriblest tale has told.
(0 Cocculus Indicus, Barrels, and Blades !)
Nothing her hands from the herd withhold,
Silence no longer her sanctum shades.
A jovial time—for burglarious folk,
(O Fenians, Nihilists, Poisoning Worms !)
For all who desire by a dexterous stroke
To settle a life on the easiest terms.
But as for Policemen, or parties with cash,
(O the Pistol, the Poison, the pilfered Gem !)
Perhaps on the whole ’twere a little bit ras’
To call it a jovial time—for them !
All her Arcana are free to all.
(0 Arsenic, Gunpowder, Shots, and Stabs !)
From public platforms her charms she ’ll call,
In penny numbers her mysteries blabs.
Just as it ought to be, who ’ll dare doubt r
(O Nitroglycerine, Potions, and Pills !)
Freedom we can’t and we won’t do without,
Even the freedom that maims or kills.
A Borgia now need not work on the sly,
(O Aqua Tofana, Stilettoes, and Snakes !)
A Romeo need not in secresy buy
Of a sinister Sawbones all shivers and shakes.
^ He may pick out a lamp-litten chemist’s shop,
(0 Belladonna and Prussic Acid !)
And into it boldly and pleasantly pop,
They ’ll deal him out death with complacency plaeid.
“ What with the Clubs, the Continental and the Bristol,” says
Mrs. Ramsbotham, “ the young men have all become such pedicures!
that they turn up their noses at my old-fashioned English dinners.”
To an iEsth.etic Poet.
“ I write verse for men, not women,” the AEsthetic Poet crisd,
As he poured forth sensuous stanzas of his sick’ning maudlin gush ;
And Punch answers, “ Would the pillory as in old days were tried,
For the writer "ho can offer e’en to men what makes them blush! ,y
The Marwood family—hang it! we beg Mr. Maravood’s pardon,.
we mean the Morewood family—have been going it. They went for
their big brother on Sunday, as they had no sort of reason for an.
assault on Mundy.