Punch (88.1885)

4

PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [Jan™ 3, 1885.

^ ’ARRY ON ’APPINESS.

Dear Charlie,

A ’Appy New Year to yer ! That’s the straight tip for to-day,

So. I’m hound to be in it, old chip, though things don’t look remarkable gay.

1 inclose you a Card—a correct one, I ’ope, though it strikes one as queer
That such picters is thought apprypo this pertieular time of the year.

You ’ll observe there’s a hangel in muslin a twisting ’erself all awry,'

With some plums, happle-blossoms, and marigolds, backed by a dab ’o!blue sky.
Dekkyrative it’s called, so the miwy informed me who nobbled my tanner;

I call it a little bit mixed, like the art on a Odd-Fellow’s banner.

But, bless you, it’s all of a piece, Charlie—Life is so muddled with rot
That it takes rayther more than a Judge or a Jury to tell yer wot’s wot.
Whether knifing a boy ’cos one’s peckish means murder, if lyings are libels,
Seem questions as bothers the Big Wigs, in spite of their Blue Books and Bibles.

Where are we, old pal P that’s the question. Perhaps it would add to one’s ease
If life wos declared a “ Mixed Wobble,” its motter a “ Go as you please.”

But ’tisn’t all Cinder-path, Charlie, wus luck! if it was, with “ all in,”

You wouldn’t go fur wrong, I fancy, in backing “yours truly ” to win.

“ A ’Appy New Year! ” That’s the cackle all over the shop like to-day.

Wot’s 'Appiness P Praps Mister Buskin and little Lord Garmoyle will say.
You an me’s got our notions of yum-yum, as isn’t fur wide o’ the mark,

But who ’ll give us change for ’em, Charlie P Ah! that’s where we ’re left in
the dark.

The Keform Bill won’t do it, my Pippin, no that you may lay your last dollar.
The fact is this ’Appy New Year fake is ’oiler, mate, hutteriy ’oiler.

’Iwon’t fiy—like the Christmas Card hangels, it doesn’t fit into the faeks ;

All it does is to spread tommy-rot, and to break all the Postmen’s poor backs.

You ’ll be thinking I’ve got the blue-mouldies, old man, and you won’t be fur
hout.

Funds low with yours truly, my bloater, no chances of getting about.

Larks, any amount of ’em, going, advertisements gassing like fun,

But ’Aery, for once in the way, ’s a stone-broker and not in the run.

It’s cutting, that’s wot it is, cutting. I’m so used to leading the field,

That place as fust-iiy at life’s fences is one as I don't like to yield,

Espeshly to one like Bill Blossit,—no style, not a bit about Blll !

And they talk of a ’Appy New Year, mate, and cackle o’ Peace and^Goodwill!

Oh yus, I’d goodwill ’em, Bill Blossit and false Fanny Friswell, a lot!

They are off to the World’s Fair to-night, Sir, and that’s wy I say it’s such rot.
If form such as mine’s to go ’obbling whilst Mugginses win, out ’o sight,

I say the World’s Handicap’s wrong, mate, and Christmas Cards won’t set it
right.

Lor bless yer, he ain’t got no patter, not more than a nutmeg, Bill ain’t;

But the railway has taken his shop, and he’s come out as fresh as new paint.
And so because I’m out of luck, and that duffer has landed the chink,

She ’ooks onto him like a bat to a belfry, Sir ! What do you think P

A ’Appy New Year ? Yus, it looks like it! Charlie, old chap, I’ve heard tell
Of parties called Pessymists, writers as swear the whole world’s a Big Sell;

No doubt they’ve bin jilted, or jockeyed by some such a Juggins as Bill ;

And without Beal Jam—cash and kisses—this world is a bitterish pill.

Still I wish you a ’Appy New Year, if you care for the kibosh, old Chappie,
Though ’taint ’Igh Art Cards full o’ gush and green paint ’ll make you and me
’appy.

Wot we want is lucre and larks, love and lotion as much as you ’ll carry!

Give me them, and one slap at that Bill,—they’re the right New Year Gifts to
suit ’Aery.

Lounging Suit for Managers.

The Daily News interviewer has been at it again. Look here !—

“ As Mr. Bancroft is discovered in a fulvous-hued velvet jacket and the pretty library
at his house in Berkeley Square-”

NOTHING LIKE NUMBERS.

The ^Triangles, Euclidsville.

My Hear Mr. Punch,

Before Mr. Courtney’s excellent plan for secur-
ing" proportional representation is forgotten, if not
forgiven, will you. kindly allow me to recapitulate what
I understand to be its provisions P .

If am not mistaken, the ex-Minister wishes to give
everybody one vote more than the number of Candi-
dates. Thus, if there are five Candidates, every one is
to have six votes. This is as simple as possible—say
that there are 12,000 votes, then this number must be
divided by six, which will give 2,000. It stands to
reason, then, that any one having more than 2,000, must
have been elected, because 2,000 represents a sixth, and
only a fifth is required, as there are only five Candi-
dates.

This is perfectly simple, and comprehensible. Thus,
we will imagine a list of Candidates :—

1. Mr. Gladstone.

2. Mr. Bradlaugh.

3. Mr. William Holland.

I. Mr. Tracy Turnerelli.

5. Mr. Hugh Conway.

We will imagine the votes are given, and at the first
scrutiny Messrs. Gladstone and Bradlaugh are elected,
both having more than 2000 respectively—the first
having 8000, the second, 3000. We now take the votes
not required by the two duly elected Members and add
them to the other Candidates requiring votes. Mr.
Hugh Conway has 500, and Mr. TracyTurnerelli, 500.
Each of these require 1500 votes a piece to obtain the
required number, so we knock off 6,000 of Mr. Glad-
stone’s votes and 1000 of Mr. Bradlaugh’s and. begin
counting again. We have a second scrutiny with the
following result:—

Hugh Conway . . 684

Tracy Turnerelli . 1007

William Holland . 5000

Now Mr. William Holland is triumphantly re-
turned. by an enormous majority to every one’s emprise,
as in the last scrutiny it will be remembered he had no
record. And now it is discovered, by turning the votes
round and beginning to count at the other end, that quite
a different result would be achieved, that the figures
would come out thus :—

Hugh Conway . . 5991

Tracy Turnerelli . 503

William Holland . 7

This of course differs vastly from the second scrutiny,
and is a little embarrassing. But say a third is tried,
beginning the counting in the middle, and then we get
the following

Tracy Turnerelli . 5991

Hugh Conway . . 503

William; Holland . 7

This again is rather disappointing, as it shows that
the same number of votes may be productive of vastly
different results. But perhaps the simplest way to meet
the admitted difficulty is to multiply the f avourite by
six, adding ten to each of the others, and a moiety of the
whole number. This will, give us (I have not worked it
out on paper but it can easily be verified):—

Tracy Turnerelli . 24000

Hugh Conway . . 7

William Holland . 1143

No wonderjMr. Bancroet finds managerial cares irksome, when he has to wear
“ a fulvous-huedjvelvet jacket and the pretty library.” This interviewer is a
very Costume Columbus, and his ability in discovering dresses of an entirely
original nature ought to make him inyaluable at a theatre. The Honourable
Lewis Wingfield must look to his laurels.

The London Bridge Explosion.

The real culprit is said to be Macaulay’s New Zealander. The worthy
Native—who has been promptly interviewed—says that he has been waiting, for
so many years to sit on the ruins of London Bridge, that he was naturally anxious
to do so before he became an Old Zealander. “ Alas! ” he added, with a grim
smile Hitting o’er his swarthy countenance, “lama Middle-Aged Zealander as
t is! ”

This somehow, does not look right, because by our first
rule Mr. Tracy Turnerelli has many thousands., more
than he requires, and the others considerably less. So,
again, we add sixteen, divide by five, multiplying by
the result thus obtained and leaving out fractions—
but here, as I am rather at fault, I call upon Mr. Court-
ney to take the matter out of my hands, and himself
explain his admirable system. With deep respect,
Yours, like Plum Pudding and Mince Pies at this
Season of the Year, Slightly Mixed.

The Day after New Year’s Eve, 1884—1885.

Beal “ Eedistribution Bill.”—Bill Sikes.