DOI Heft:
July 26, 1884
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17757#0050
“NONE BUT THE BRAVE DESERVES THE FAPR!”
Lady Circe (who is rather tired, and wants to sit down). “ If you are really so devoted as you 5AU you are, Sir Charles,
i’ll tell you how you can show your Devotion.”
Sir Charles {of the Grenadier Guards). “ Tell me ! Oh, tell me ! ”
Lady Circe. ‘■‘Well—you can take that nice Old Lady down to Supper, you know—and then I can have her Chair!’’
“FOLLOW MY LEADER!”
Whither, 0 rash Bell-wether, would you urge
Your sheepish flock, true brehis de Panurge f
Bingdong, the Rabelaisian mutton-monger,
Was not more struck with sorrowful surprise,
Than is John Bull, the stout and soundly wise.
At your strange exhibition of death-hunger.
The fabled flock-leader of scanty wit _
Who, to save life, would leap into a pit.
Had courage of your curious complexion.
You need not go so far as Aristotle,
Nor to the Oracle of the Holy Bottle
To see the application or connection.
The flock you lead may comfortably still
Browse on the heights, if but wrong-headed will
Lead them into no new and needless peril;
But if you call attention to their right
To special pasture, some may deem it slight;
And possibly that thought may not prove sterile.
That other herd, which, fired most fiendishly,
Dashed down a steep place sheer into the sea
You surely will not take as an example ;
Bor they were mad ! A leader is but vanity
If there he serious doubts about his sanity :
Of yours this seems a questionable sample.
Fellow my Leader is a pretty game,
But followers may boggle, all the same,
At desperate leaps if taken in the dark.
Some of your followers seem a trifle slack,
And just a little tempted to hold back,
A tendency which it were well to mark.
No CuRTius-leap is this but mutton-madness
Which patriot sense must contemplate with sadness.
So fine a flock, so richly fleeced and plump !
Beware, Bell-wether ! Friendly hints you ’re spurning,
For from that gulf profound there’s no returning,
If once you make the rash and fatal jump.
BARLOWS ON BICYCLES.
The following appears in the Baity News:—
HOLIDAY ENGAGEMENT WANTED. Would travel. No
salary.—Cyclist, Rev. H.
Possibly Cycling Schoolmasters may be a modern version of the
Peripatetic Philosophers, and we can readily imagine the Reverend
Gentleman “ would travel ” as he happens to be a cyclist. How he
could, contrive to impart instruction to his pupil, unless seated by his
side on a double tricycle, we are unable to understand. We are quite
certain if our old friend Barlow went out on a bicycle with Tommy
and Harry also on bicycles, his pupils would soon skim out of sight
at the faintest sign of instruction.
A younu Curate of Liberal tendencies had just overheard some of
| his high and dry ecclesiastical seniors discussing the Use of Saruvi.
The advanced young Cleric couldn’t refrain from breaking in upon
them with “ The use of Sarum ! None at all, that I can see ”—when
it was explained to him that they were not speaking of Lord
Saliseury.
She gave the ball one cut with her racket, and knocked his best
Sunday Gossamer right off. “ What a volley-tile young lady.! ” he
exclaimed.
Lady Circe (who is rather tired, and wants to sit down). “ If you are really so devoted as you 5AU you are, Sir Charles,
i’ll tell you how you can show your Devotion.”
Sir Charles {of the Grenadier Guards). “ Tell me ! Oh, tell me ! ”
Lady Circe. ‘■‘Well—you can take that nice Old Lady down to Supper, you know—and then I can have her Chair!’’
“FOLLOW MY LEADER!”
Whither, 0 rash Bell-wether, would you urge
Your sheepish flock, true brehis de Panurge f
Bingdong, the Rabelaisian mutton-monger,
Was not more struck with sorrowful surprise,
Than is John Bull, the stout and soundly wise.
At your strange exhibition of death-hunger.
The fabled flock-leader of scanty wit _
Who, to save life, would leap into a pit.
Had courage of your curious complexion.
You need not go so far as Aristotle,
Nor to the Oracle of the Holy Bottle
To see the application or connection.
The flock you lead may comfortably still
Browse on the heights, if but wrong-headed will
Lead them into no new and needless peril;
But if you call attention to their right
To special pasture, some may deem it slight;
And possibly that thought may not prove sterile.
That other herd, which, fired most fiendishly,
Dashed down a steep place sheer into the sea
You surely will not take as an example ;
Bor they were mad ! A leader is but vanity
If there he serious doubts about his sanity :
Of yours this seems a questionable sample.
Fellow my Leader is a pretty game,
But followers may boggle, all the same,
At desperate leaps if taken in the dark.
Some of your followers seem a trifle slack,
And just a little tempted to hold back,
A tendency which it were well to mark.
No CuRTius-leap is this but mutton-madness
Which patriot sense must contemplate with sadness.
So fine a flock, so richly fleeced and plump !
Beware, Bell-wether ! Friendly hints you ’re spurning,
For from that gulf profound there’s no returning,
If once you make the rash and fatal jump.
BARLOWS ON BICYCLES.
The following appears in the Baity News:—
HOLIDAY ENGAGEMENT WANTED. Would travel. No
salary.—Cyclist, Rev. H.
Possibly Cycling Schoolmasters may be a modern version of the
Peripatetic Philosophers, and we can readily imagine the Reverend
Gentleman “ would travel ” as he happens to be a cyclist. How he
could, contrive to impart instruction to his pupil, unless seated by his
side on a double tricycle, we are unable to understand. We are quite
certain if our old friend Barlow went out on a bicycle with Tommy
and Harry also on bicycles, his pupils would soon skim out of sight
at the faintest sign of instruction.
A younu Curate of Liberal tendencies had just overheard some of
| his high and dry ecclesiastical seniors discussing the Use of Saruvi.
The advanced young Cleric couldn’t refrain from breaking in upon
them with “ The use of Sarum ! None at all, that I can see ”—when
it was explained to him that they were not speaking of Lord
Saliseury.
She gave the ball one cut with her racket, and knocked his best
Sunday Gossamer right off. “ What a volley-tile young lady.! ” he
exclaimed.