Punch: Punch (87.1884)

July 5. 1884.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

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LAYS OF A LAZY MINSTREL.

HENLEY IN JULY.

Off, come down to Henley, for London is horrid ;

There ’s no peace or quiet from sunset to dawn.

The Row is a bore, and the Park is too torrid,

So come down and lounge on the “ Red Lion ” Lawn!

Yes! come down to Henley, no time like the present,

The sunshine is bright, the barometer’s high—•

Come! come down at once, for Regatta-time’s pleasant,
Thrice pleasant is Henley in laughing July!

Oh, gay are the gardens of Fawlev and Phyllis,

The Bolney backwaters are shaded from heat;

The rustle of poplars on Remenham Hill is,

Mid breezes festival, enchantingly sweet!

When hay-scented meadows with oarsmen are crowded—
Whose gay-tinted coats e’en bright toilettes outvie—

When sunshine is hot and the sky is unclouded,

Oh, Henley is splendid in lovely July !

Ah me! what a revel of exquisite colours,

What costumes in pink and in white and in blue,

By smart canoistes and by pretty girl-scullers,

Are sported in randan, in skiff, and canoe !

What sun-shaded lasses we see out a-punting,

What fair gondolieri perchance we espy.

And house-boats and launches all blossom and hunting—
Oh, Henley’s a picture in merry July!

If it rains, as it may, in this climate capricious,

And Beauty is shod in t,he gruesome galosh ;

While each dainty head-dress and toilette delicious
Is shrouded from view in the grim mackintosh !

We ’ll flee to the cheery “ Athena ” for shelter—

The pate is perfect, the Giesler is dry—

And think while we gaze, undismayed, at the “ pelter,”
That Henley is joyous in dripping July !

The ancient grey Bridge is delightful to moon on,

For ne’er such a spot for the mooner was made;

He’ll spend, to advantage, a whole afternoon on
Its footway, and loll on its quaint balustrade !

For this, of all others, the best is of places
To watch the brown rowers pull pantingly by,

To witness the splendour, the shouting, the races,

At Henley Regatta in charming July !

When athletes are weary and hushed is the riot,

When launches have vanished and house-boats are gone,
When Henley once more is delightfully quiet—•

’Tis soothing to muse on the “ Red Lion ” lawn!

When the swans hold their own and the sedges scarce shiver.
As sweet summer breezes so tunefully sigh,

Let us laze at the ruddy-faced Inn by the River—

For Henley is restful in dreamy July !

A VALUABLE SUGGESTION.

Bravo, Alderman Cotton ! we follow the thread of your argument
in last Saturday’s Times. You have the courage of your opinions,
which shall never impair our friendship, never! But because your
Livery Companies “are not to be classed with Friendly or Bene-
volent Societies, or Monastic Institutions,” are they so utterly too-
too perfect as not to need some reform somewhere F The true
Common-sense Counsel-man Mr. Punch, is the last to wish their
hospitable Turtleships abolished, and would prefer feeling ever so
“Livery,” on any morning after one of your little banquets, to
seeing your Corporation reduced to a mere skeleton of picked hones.
Let the old Liveries be furbished up and improved by all means.
Let each Livery Company be reformed from within, as it should be,
in order to make City life worth Livery-ing. And here’s a sug-
gestion for a commencement: —Alter the absurd old-fashioned
dinner-hour of 5'30 for 6, when all the Companies dine, and show
yourselves up to the modern dinner-time of day by inviting your
guests at the reasonable hour of seven fur half-past, or half-past for
eight. Next, keep the toasts, cut the speeches, and come to cigars
and coffee as quickly as possible. These will he moves in the right
direction of Progress and Municipal Reform, which Mr. Punch
hopes to see adopted forthwith.

“We Speak under Correction.”—Jingle Junior, of Dingley
Dell, writes, d propos of our Pickwickian Scene picture last week, to
remind us that it was the old Grandmother whose flesh the Fat Boy
wanted to make creep. “ J. J.” is quite right, and the old Grand-
mother, as representing the Upper House, is more appropriate.
Evidently we shouldn’t have come off with the first prize in the late
C.S.C.’s celebrated Pickwick Examination,—and yet we thought we
were pretty well up in our Dickens.

Question.—Does Mr. Gladstone expect England to work the
traffic on the Suez Canal satisfactorily with a Ferry P

Vol, 87.

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