Punch (88.1885)

March 7, 1885.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

109

’em with, pleasure. Why, Sir, with a view of giving
my whole mind, to your business, and on the strength
of the large subscription list doubtless at present in your
hands (it’s only five-and-twenty shillings up to Epsom
remember,) I was looking for a quiet residence in the
neighbourhood of Regent’s Park the other day. I saw an
untenauted house with a notice on the door referring, as
I supposed, to the agents in whose hands the letting was
placed. I went through the little garden to see, and found

■“ Victoria, by the Grace, &c.,” nailed to the panels.

No, Sir, our profession has its trials personal as well as
equine.—Yours moodily, Robert Spotteh.

“Wish you'd Feeb yotjr Horse before he comes out.

“Eh—WHY—HANG it!—WHAT UO YOU MEAN?” THERE’s

“He ’8 ALWAYS TRYING TO EAT MY BOOTS. He EVIDENTLY THINKS THERE S
SOME CHANCE OF GETTING AT A LITTLE CORN ’. ”

Of

PROM OUR OWN NOBLE SPORTSMAN.

No, Sir! don't, pray, he led away by a man like Pick Peri wink. The idea
ms suggesting that he would serve you better than ME. No, there are prophets
ana prophets; there are the profitless prophets for instance. Pick has made his
living in that line for many years, and disposed of as much unreliable informa-
on as any imposter in the profession. A low man, Sir. A man of no educa-
snTa ,°f “ Hicjacetrequires no further addition, as Mr. Nowell

is comprehensive, aud describes Pick accurately. But enough

ofysuchrHea'lie8 —____o-

will hav<^ anon aS > the game is about to begin again, and Sportsmen

opportunity of seeing whether there is most wind or wind-mills at
Let them only stick to old Bob and they ’ll

—. vt/yurt unity (

Lincoln ere many weeks are over. , ffnTa

bring grist to their mills anyway. t ^ those of the early b

The acceptances of the Lincoln Handicap a > jfow, gjI) tell y°ur J ^

on that race will be out also by the end <>f next nth Losinj, your men® m a
friends, if they’ve never been to Lincoln, n S .g a bookmakers •

5&B"m“b"

display of Energy h»-

1 Wai

it tilHh hfS already proved a mistake'.
cep TUhclo9ds roll by,” Sir! Sunshi:

u hv ” Sir’ Sunshine and cVV!ph ° at Ascot! I
r ™uas roll by, mm t a time we ll have a de at the

atmosphere io hack winners in. Ha, m i tand yon always pr° flWberries,
am looking forward to the lunch whichIThe early straw
hack of the Stand for the Staff of y011Lc?lel? ivlti and ’80 is not to been ^

the Pommery of ’74 (blended with 75 wn t .fd’get it, bring it to Ascoi),
By the way, ever tried Lanson ’74 ? . Well, « you s
the pates de^foie* ™— ■’ "

— uc jrnes gras, the Perigord pies, &c., and our note-M-ses a st ff ^

repletion. Bless you, I see it all. I seem to see you wuh that win ^

r!?ht eve, and your finder on your somewhat-prominent nose, trolling
clink glasses

“ Says the young Obadiah to the old Obamah,

What wifi win, OBADIAH, what will win? „

1 *11 put your readers on good things and manage their little corns

CHARACTER OF THE UN-HAPPY WARRIOR.

A Pendant to Wordsioorth’s lately much-quoted,
“Happy Warrior."

Who is the Unhappy Warrior ? Who is he
Whom every Party man appears to he ?

—It is the ungenerous spirit, who, when brought
Among the tasks of national life, hath wrought
On plans from pigeon-holes parochial brought:
Whose sole endeavour is in faction’s_ tight
To prove his faction always in the right;

Who, with no natural instinct to discern
The noble, is not diligent to learn ;

Abides by Party needs, and stops not there,

But makes its pettiest dodges his prime care ;

Who, doomed his conscience cruelly to strain
With faction’s followers—miserable train!—

Turns its necessities to private gain ?

—’Tis he whose law’s unreason, who depends
On sophistry as on the best of friends ;

Whence, in a State where men are tempted still
Bv wordy flux that hides molluscous will,

Where muddled notions rule the worst and best,

And all things on a sand-foundation rest,

He fixes good on self alone which shows
No other guide to follow save its nose.

—Who, if he rise to station of command,

Rises by servile means ; and there will stand
Like a Praetorian Ceesar, whose desire
In power finds its sole inspiring tire.

Who worships Number One, and to the same
Keeps faithful with pure singleness of aim ;

And therefore stoops, and creeps, and lies in wait
For wealth, and honours, and high worldly state.
The guerdons which, like showers of manna fall
On those whose knees are callous, and can crawl,
Whose powers shed round him in hot Party strife
Or ihe concerns of Parliamentary life,

Bellicose blague no snubbings can abase;

But who, if he be called upon to face
Some crisis, awful to the base or blind,

Calling for lofty heart or spacious mind,

Is helpless as an oyster, fogged and mired,

By peril dazed, by duty uninspired ;

Who, through the heat of conflict, can but “ jaw ”
Of what he dares not front, and ne’er foresaw.

- He who, though dowered with a double sense,

For twaddling tame, and rowdy turbulence,

Lacks the cool sense on which high policy leans,

And splutter lends, not strength, to Party “ scenes.’
Sheer windbag ! vain and void, where’er he be,

Of manners and of magnanimity,

His darling joy to rail at and reprove
The generous souls mean malice may not love :

’Tis, finally, the man, who, lifted high,—

He could tell how, but no one can tell why—

Or hotly fuming iu obscurity,

Plays, ’midst the many games of life, that one
Whose leading rule is “ Do, aud don’t be done; ”
Whom neither thoughts of “ Dirty Tricks ” dismay,
Nor promptings high to chivalry betray,

Who not content to see great worth stand fast,

Will snatch a mean advantage just to cast
Ooprobrium on the foe he’d brand or blast.

Who, howsoever long he stalk the earth,

Never to noble thought or deed gives birth,

And so goes down to dust without fair fame
Leaving a dead unprofitable name;

Not having helped one high or holy cause,

Or earned man’s gratitude or Heaven’s applause.
This is the Unhappy Warrior ; this is he
Whom every honest man should seorn to be.

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