DOI Heft:
November 4, 1882
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17753#0216
210
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[November 4, 1882.
OIL ON THE WAVES.
Air—1“ Isle of Beauty, fare thee well!
Floods of talk-talk close not o’er
us,
Leave our cumbered course
awhile ;
Northcote’s plan will not restore
us
Progress, peace, the country's
smile.
Still my fancy can discover
Sunny prospects through my
spell;
Down wild waves I break clouds
that hover!
Oil of Cloture, work thou well!
Ah! those hours when angry faces
Scowl around and us affright,
Premier sings:—
Sitting heart-sick in our places
Half the day and all the night!
Through the noise that rages round
D ully booms the monster bell!—
Hush the talk-storms that con-
found us !
Oil of Cloture, work thou well!
On the waves around me breaking
I may pump it, I alone.
An experiment worth making ;
Should this fail, all hope is gone!
Will it, will it work, I wonder ?
Will it still the billowy swell P
Patiently I pump and ponder.
Oil of Cloture, work thou well!
Motto fob. “ The Largest Circulation.
every man to do his D. T.
-England expeet-
ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
EXTRACTED FROM
THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
Tuesday Night, October 24.—House met again to-day after ten
weeks’ holiday. Boys came back very well, looking as if they liked
it. Head-master early in his place, with clean collar on, stiffer and
larger than ever. Doesn’t look as if he had got much out of his
holiday. Hartington looking horribly bored. Childers in high
state of self-content. Chamberlain away ill with the gout.
“ Gout! ” growls Mr. Hicks, in a stage-whisper, across the Gang-
way, to Sir Walter Barttelot. “ Never heard of a Radical having
the gout. Believe it’s only tooth-ache.”
Stappord Northcote looking cheery and rosy as a Devonshire
apple before the wrinkles come. Everybody makes a point of
shaking hands with him. Been remarks by naughty young men who
want to depose him. Everybody anxious to show that he has
nothing to do with conspiracy. So shakes hands with Sir Stafford,
who holds a levee something like Speaker on last day of Session.
Below the Gangway, a thin black streak of Irish Members. Mi.
Hf.aly at the head, Mr. Parnell at the tail, and Joseph Gillis in
the middle. Sitting turns out a little tame ; but, yesterday, Joseph
presided at a Meeting where Landlordism was denounced. Reeol-
MRS. PONSONBY DE TOMPKYNS LOSES HER TEMPER.
Mrs. P. de T.’s last new Duchess (graciously unbending). “When I came here before, Madame Gaminot was here; but she
wouldn’t Sing—she ‘took her hook,’ as Cadbury called it—went away, you know!”
Mrs. P. de. T. “Yes; and so did your Grace and Lord Cadbury, in consequence.”
Her Grace. “A—just so. Who’s that very Funny Person talking to Mr. Whatshisname—Thingummy you knoW—your
CLEVER WRITING FRIEND, FROM AMERICA ? Is SHE A COMIC SlNGER, AND WILL SHE SlNG ? ”
Mrs. P. de T. “No, I don’t think she’ll Sing. That very Funny Person is my friend, Lady Midas.”
Her Grace [who always speaks her mind). “ What! And pray, Mrs. Tompkyns, are there no Ladies left in England, that
SHOULD BE ASKED HERE TO DlNE WITH THE WlFE OF A SUCCESSFUL SAUSAGE-MAKER!”
Mrs. P. de T. “You were asked here to Dine with Mr. Whatshisname, Duchess—(Thingummy, you know) ! You your-
self ASKED ME TO ASK YOU TO MEET HIM ; AND I ’M ONLY TOO GLAD TO HAVE SUCH AN OPPORTUNITY OF SHOWING MY CLEVER
writing Friend from America that there are some Ladies still left in England, and very great Ladies too”—(Her
Grace boivs stiffly)—“ weo can’t even behave as decently as a Sausage-maker’s,Niee ! But perhaps your Grace would prefer
to—a—take youk Grace’s hook? Shall I ring and order your Carriage?”
\_Her Grace reflects that her Carriage is gone—loses her head—stammers—dines—apologises, and is quite civil to Lady Midas after dinner.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[November 4, 1882.
OIL ON THE WAVES.
Air—1“ Isle of Beauty, fare thee well!
Floods of talk-talk close not o’er
us,
Leave our cumbered course
awhile ;
Northcote’s plan will not restore
us
Progress, peace, the country's
smile.
Still my fancy can discover
Sunny prospects through my
spell;
Down wild waves I break clouds
that hover!
Oil of Cloture, work thou well!
Ah! those hours when angry faces
Scowl around and us affright,
Premier sings:—
Sitting heart-sick in our places
Half the day and all the night!
Through the noise that rages round
D ully booms the monster bell!—
Hush the talk-storms that con-
found us !
Oil of Cloture, work thou well!
On the waves around me breaking
I may pump it, I alone.
An experiment worth making ;
Should this fail, all hope is gone!
Will it, will it work, I wonder ?
Will it still the billowy swell P
Patiently I pump and ponder.
Oil of Cloture, work thou well!
Motto fob. “ The Largest Circulation.
every man to do his D. T.
-England expeet-
ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
EXTRACTED FROM
THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
Tuesday Night, October 24.—House met again to-day after ten
weeks’ holiday. Boys came back very well, looking as if they liked
it. Head-master early in his place, with clean collar on, stiffer and
larger than ever. Doesn’t look as if he had got much out of his
holiday. Hartington looking horribly bored. Childers in high
state of self-content. Chamberlain away ill with the gout.
“ Gout! ” growls Mr. Hicks, in a stage-whisper, across the Gang-
way, to Sir Walter Barttelot. “ Never heard of a Radical having
the gout. Believe it’s only tooth-ache.”
Stappord Northcote looking cheery and rosy as a Devonshire
apple before the wrinkles come. Everybody makes a point of
shaking hands with him. Been remarks by naughty young men who
want to depose him. Everybody anxious to show that he has
nothing to do with conspiracy. So shakes hands with Sir Stafford,
who holds a levee something like Speaker on last day of Session.
Below the Gangway, a thin black streak of Irish Members. Mi.
Hf.aly at the head, Mr. Parnell at the tail, and Joseph Gillis in
the middle. Sitting turns out a little tame ; but, yesterday, Joseph
presided at a Meeting where Landlordism was denounced. Reeol-
MRS. PONSONBY DE TOMPKYNS LOSES HER TEMPER.
Mrs. P. de T.’s last new Duchess (graciously unbending). “When I came here before, Madame Gaminot was here; but she
wouldn’t Sing—she ‘took her hook,’ as Cadbury called it—went away, you know!”
Mrs. P. de. T. “Yes; and so did your Grace and Lord Cadbury, in consequence.”
Her Grace. “A—just so. Who’s that very Funny Person talking to Mr. Whatshisname—Thingummy you knoW—your
CLEVER WRITING FRIEND, FROM AMERICA ? Is SHE A COMIC SlNGER, AND WILL SHE SlNG ? ”
Mrs. P. de T. “No, I don’t think she’ll Sing. That very Funny Person is my friend, Lady Midas.”
Her Grace [who always speaks her mind). “ What! And pray, Mrs. Tompkyns, are there no Ladies left in England, that
SHOULD BE ASKED HERE TO DlNE WITH THE WlFE OF A SUCCESSFUL SAUSAGE-MAKER!”
Mrs. P. de T. “You were asked here to Dine with Mr. Whatshisname, Duchess—(Thingummy, you know) ! You your-
self ASKED ME TO ASK YOU TO MEET HIM ; AND I ’M ONLY TOO GLAD TO HAVE SUCH AN OPPORTUNITY OF SHOWING MY CLEVER
writing Friend from America that there are some Ladies still left in England, and very great Ladies too”—(Her
Grace boivs stiffly)—“ weo can’t even behave as decently as a Sausage-maker’s,Niee ! But perhaps your Grace would prefer
to—a—take youk Grace’s hook? Shall I ring and order your Carriage?”
\_Her Grace reflects that her Carriage is gone—loses her head—stammers—dines—apologises, and is quite civil to Lady Midas after dinner.