Punch (86.1884)

January 12, 1884.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

23

A LONDON COW.

(.Metropolitan Idyl.)

[The cream had been extracted and the milk adulterated with
50 per cent, of water. The only remedy for such a state of
things appears to be, as the law stands, that the London con-
sumer must keep his own cow.—Social Axiom.']

“ Dear Great-grand-uncle, tell me why
You look so haggard, pinched, and ill ?

The Dairy Company hard by
Supplies your daily gallon still:

The milk comes from a Country Cow.

You should have gained some nesh ere now.”

So chirped the child. The old man siglied,

And feebly shook his aged head.

“ I take one gallon,” he replied,

“ Yet two would see me poorly fed.

I know not why it is, or how,

But I mistrust that Country Cow ! ”

Then spake that little child again,—

“ Dear Great-grand-uncle, do not doubt!

The milk arrives each day by train—

In trimmest carts ’tis borne about;

The drivers wear clean smocks! Ah, how
Can you see this—yet doubt the Cow ? ”

“ I doubt it,” moaned the aged man,

“ Because I never able seem
To skim from off my gallon can
One single thimbleful of cream !

You surely do not wonder now
Why I suspect that Country Cow ? ”

Then did that little child reflect.

Quoth he, “If you no more are plump,

Dear Great-grand-uncle, I expect
You suffer through some local pump.

A local pump—I’ve read—ere now
Has brought discredit on a Cow.

“For water, poisoned water too,

Than milk is cheaper far, they say,

And men who honest trade pursue,

W ill poison gaily—if it pay.

The kindly laws such things allow.

I point this out—to clear the Cow !

“ The milk that she would yield to you
Is rich in cream ;—yet, brought to town,

By knavish hands it passes through,

Alas ! is surely watered down !

The first such fraud to disavow
Would be that most indignant Cow!”

The old man sighed a deeper sigh,

And glanced upon his gallon can.

“ I feel,” he whispered, “ I must die,

Unless I shelve the middle man !

You ’ll say ‘ get rid of him,’—but how ?”

Rejoined that child, “ Why—start a Cow ! ”
*****

The deed was done ! The coast was cleared,

The farmer, middle-man,—the pump
At one fell swoop all disappeared.

The fattened Sage had played his trump !

He’s twenty stone,—and over, now ; —

And owes it to a London Cow !

That eccentric body, the Municipal Council of Paris,
proposes altering the name of the Rue Victoria to the Rue
O’Donnell. This is sympathy with a vengeance. Of
“ Victoria ” in its literal sense Frenchmen have, it must
be confessed, had but little experience of late years,
hence the change may be wise. But let them pause ere
they adopt “ O’Donnell.” There was a famous Spanish
O’Donnell, and the Paris Muncipality should be like
Caesar’s wife, especially where Spain is concerned. Com-
pliments are not exactly the greetings that Paris should
send to Madrid, until Alphonso ceases to be a Uhlan.

Chatty Old Bachelor. “ ’Most r’mark’ble Likeness between those Two
Children, Nurse.'” Burse. “Yessir. Twins, Sir.”

Old Gent. “What, Both of ’em!!”

THE DROMORE DROMIOS.

The Loyalist Caesar and the Nationalist Pompey seem “ very much alike,”
indeed—in the matter of noisy mischief. If we add “ especially the Loyalist
Caesar,” it is simply because upon his own showing, he ought to know better.
He poses as champion of law and order. What does he consider himself “ loyal ”
to? Authority? Well, owing largely to his unauthorised and unruly action,
Authority has to “ take ample precautions to preserve thepeace,” such precautions
including the drafting into Dromore of more than one thousand soldiers and
police, in addition to stationing detachments of Infantry, Cavalry, and Police at
various points in the county, to prevent the Orangemen and Nationalists from
coming into collision ! And after all 4 4 the efforts of the troops and the liberal
use of the bayonet could not keep the Orangemen from attacking the Nationalists,”
the result being a disgraceful Donnybrook melee of stick-wielding, stone-throw-
ing, and stabbing. Nice commentary on Loyalist claims to Championship of Law
and Order ! Law and Order may well say 44 Save us from our friends ! ”

The windy ravings of the Loyalist speakers show only too plainly that not
love of anything (save perhaps shindy), but hatred of their countrymen of the
opposite camp moves them most strongly. Their speech bewrayeth them. The
cloven hoof of partisan fury peeps out of every paragraph. The pity of it!
Loyalty is not so plentiful in the Distressful Country that one can without grave
regret see it spoiled by spite, and made mischievous instead of helpful, by law-
affronting violence. One feels that the Orange champions would not hate 44 dis-
loyalty ” so much, did they not hate their “Green” fellow-countrymen more.
Here is no sound basis for loyalty ; or, rather, it is a basis which is all “ sound ”
—and fury, signifying nothing hut noisy aggravation of difficulties already
sufficiently formidable. Each of the Dromore Dromios yearns for that hateful
and hate-engendering thing, “ Ascendency.” One seeks it through seditious
violence. Does the other hope to gain it by counter-violence in the name of
“loyalty”? If so, let him lay this plain rule of good citizenship to heart:—
The surest way to defend the Law is—to obey it!

Sung with more sorrow than enthusiasm, at Monifrith, the other day—“ But
we could not catch that Whale, brave Boys! ”

Christmas Waits nobody can Put Up with. —
Waits” between the Scenes of a Pantomime.