Punch (86.1884)

54 PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [February 2, 1884.

ADDING INSULT TO INJURY.

Local Butterman. “It’s in fust-rate condition, yer Grace, and I shall be most ’appy to Sell it to yer Grace for Ten

Pounds ! ” [Feelings of noble M.F.H. may be imagined.

GETTING A LIFT !

Grand Old Man of the (Red) Sea loquitur—

“ I or this relief much thanks! ” ’Twas getting nasty.
This is a stroke of luck!

This dark Egyptian slime is slab and pasty,

I felt like getting stuck.

J'y suis,j'y reste, with rather a new meaning,
Appeared to be my motto.

On broken reeds a little tired of leaning,

And not sure where I’d got to,

I felt as awkward as infallibilty

Can ever feel. No doubt of it,

I might have trusted my well-tried agility,

At last, to get me out of it.

But folks are so impatient. Why, a pyramid
Was not built in a jiffy.

But then wild Tory gibes and Jingo ire amid
E’en my Rail friends get tiffy.

Just look at the Pall Mall now ! Surely, surely,

They might awhile have waited,

And by the organ once ground on by Morley
To be—yes, almost slated.

Is rather trying. Well, their tip was Gordon,

And so I hope they ’re gratified,

And that he likes the shifting of the burden.

I really feel beatified

At missing its worst drag. If he should stumble
’Twould bring us both to grief ;

But they who clamoured for him scarce can grumbl .
Meanwhile what a relief

To have his sturdy legs and broad back under one
Through this Egyptian mess !

He’s a strong man, who is not given to blunder, one
Whose habit is success.

A deus ex machina, wrho, at this crisis,
’Tis rare good luck to get.

If he can solve our mystery of Isis,
We may be happy yet!

THE CURSE OE CANE.

An Evening Contemporary falls foul of “ a learned Baronet who
presides over a County Court,” because that •Gentleman prefers the
birch to the cane,” and the Evening Contemporary goes on to state
that, ‘ ‘ if boys were consulted, it is certain that they would prefer
the cane.” Would they ? Not if they were wise boys. The cane is
an abominable relic of the Middle Ages, devoted to those of tender
years. The cane is a thing of much weal, and no end of woe. It is
an instrument of torture which makes the punishment of years pay
for the fault of an hour, as witness, the enlarged knuckles, the
ingrowing nails, the scarred shoulders and arms of thousands of men,
who will hear the Curse of Cane as long as they are able. Now, the
birch, even. taken in the bud, tempers justice with mercy. It is
furious in its onslaught, stinging in its attack, resolute in its chas-
tisement, but it is a generous foe, and bears no resentment. When
an Eton boy has been “swished,” he is never obliged to carry his
arm in a sling, nor call in a Surgeon to bind up his wounds. He may
suffer some temporary personal inconvenience for a few days, affect-
ing both his chair (Fr.) and his chair (Engl.), but there the matter
will end (unless, indeed, he be “ complained of” again). To sum up:
the cane is the weapon of a fool, often of a coward, and, maybe, of a
brute. The birch is an instrument to which the highest-born have
and may bow, for are they not brought to the highest legal punish-
ment—the block.

The Sacred Beast.—There has b^en some mistake about the
colour of the Elephant. He turns out' to be. grey, his companion is j
Whyte. What his hue may ultimately be, it is impossible to say, |
but it is certain that he has had a good “ slating ” all round.