Punch (86.1884)

182

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[April 19, 1884,

WELL UP IN HER MYTHOLOGY.

Tommy. “ Madge, what’s ‘ Nbgbssitas Masculine or Feminine?”
Madge. ‘‘Why, Feminine, of course ! ” Tommy. “Why?”

Madge. “Why, she was the Mother of Invention?”

LAYS OF A LAZY MINSTREL.

JILTED!

(An Intercepted Letter.)

Tis the dullest of days, and my heart it is sad,

So I make the logs blaze, for the weather is bad;

I have half done the Times, and have quite done my toast.
While I’m reading of crimes comes the Ten o’clock post.
There’s a merry rat-tat and a packet from You.

’Tis so tempting and fat that I quickly undo
All the seals in a trice, and the blossoms release—

It is awfully nice to have Lowers from Nice!

What a dainty perfume do your messengers bring,

And they scare away gloom with their savour of Spring; |
Here’s the violet blue, the pale lily, the rose,

But a letter from You they all fail to disclose!

II puzzles me quite, and I fail to divine

Why you did not just write just one brief little line .
While we ’re thinking of ice and East winds that ne’er
cease—

It is awfully nice to have flowers from Nice!

Ah ! your cheek all a-flush, most undoubtedly shows
Both "the pallor and blush of the lily and rose ;

And vour eyes are as blue as the sweet violet,

They are trustful and true, and you never forget!

Ah ! I now understand, here’s your portrait conqilete,

In a floral shorthand is your carte de visite !

A most charming device is this dainty caprice—

It is awfully nice to have flowers from Nice !

Stop a moment, for I—the most luckless of bards—-
’Neath fleur d’orange spy two absurd little cards !

Had I only been wise and had finished my Times,

’Twould have opened my eyes, and have spared you my
rhymes:

One can’t always depend on the word of a Bosk :

My poem’s at an end and my life’s full of pi o« !

Here’s a handful of rice for a couple of geese—

Is it awfully nice to have flowers from Nice ?

Protection for Pretty Creatures. — It has been
announced that Mr. Macfarlane (Carlow) intends in
Committee on the Cruelty to Animals Act Amendment
Bill to move a clause that will include Women. It is
no doubt a shame that Women do not enjoy as much
protection against cruelty as that which the law affords
inarticulate animals. Still, Mr. Macfarlane, it does not
look polite on the face of it.

A FRIENDLY REMONSTRANCE.

Mr. Punch, Sir,

I am one of that misunderstood and somewhat maligned
race called Common Councilmen. We are generally considered to be j
neither a poetical nor even a literary class of mankind ; but th&t is, I '
assure you, a great mistake. I have heard lofty flights of eloquence !
in our Court that have, I should think, been rarely equalled, seldom
excelled. I have heard an impassioned Orator exclaim, when called
to order, “ My Lord Mayor, I stand upon my nucleus ! ” which so
astonished his Lordship that he allowed him to proceed. I have
heard a member, whom we all considered as our most accomplished
French scholar, warn the Court that, if they were not very careful,

“ they would put their foot into a faux pas/” and, as we looked
somewhat doubtfully, he declared his firm resolution not to be put
hors■ de combat by a side-wind! He was afterwards proposed as
Chairman of our Library or Literary Committee, and received the
support of men of University fame, high in the service of their
country, and who will probably shortly be high in the service of
important constituencies. I give these as mere samples, to show
that we are not the unlettered race that some imagine us to be, and
I wish, Sir, with your permission, to show the world of Literature
that we sometimes, upon the very slightest provocation, soar into the
very highest regions of imaginative poetry.

In September last I visited Switzerland accompanied hv my Wife
and my Mother-in-law, and, one beautiful evening, my Wife being
too fatigued to accompany us, her dear Mother and myself went out
for a stroll. We ascended the Matterhorn, at least, we ascended a
portion of it, and, in reply to mv companion, I boldly informed her
that Matterhorn was Swiss for Mother-in-law, as Jungfrau was for
a Bride, so that I might fairly claim the pair, at which pretty conceit

I she was pleased to say that I was a born Poet. At this particular |
! moment a pair of evidently vouthf'ul lovers passed along in the valley |
j below, and, the divine afflatus being upon me; I improvised the
following lines, which, my astonished Mother-in-law assured me j
breathed all the mystic passion of Shelley :—

The thundering avalanche lingered on its way,

The friendly moon obliged them with a ray.

At length, a well-known cloud appeared in sight,

And, to their horror, bathed them in the night!

On another occasion I commenced a description of the Jungfrau,
which ran thus:

The Jungfrau’s snow shines like condensed milk
O’er limbs whose symmetry would set off silk.

but my kindly Mother-in-law thought the lines slightly improper, so
I did not continue them. I perhaps may as well add, that I was so
pleased with her candid and truthful criticism on my Matterhorn
poem, that I gave her that little cheque for her dear Alfreu, that I
had refused in the morning with some unnecessary asperity.

J. Litgue.

Same Thing!

“ Satan rebuking sin ”’s a useful phrase,

But since some fear on rudeness it may border,
A substitute is found in these last days
In “ Healy rising to a point of order ” !

There is no truth in the report that Primrose Hill is in future to
be called Mount Beaconsfield.