DOI issue:
June 25, 1887
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17657#0315
Junk 25, 1887.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
305
'AEEY ON THE JUBILEE.
Deae Chaelie,
You are a old 'ermit! Did think as you'd trot up to town,
To jine this 'ere Juberlee gammock and back hup the Court and the Crown.
I'd as soon be a bloomin' old Blue-Point deep down in the briny, dear boy,
As be mugged up in medders and mangolds with nothink to door enjoy.
The town's painted red I can tell yer, a reglar flare-up and no kid;
Got a seat for the Ryal Percession for which I'd to blue arf a quid ;
Pooty stiff, but then 'Abet's a patriot, the scene '11 be somethink immense,
And when larks and loyalty jine, I say wire in, and bust the expense 1
We shan't see sech another dust-up, Chaelie ; Juberlees ain't like green peas,
Or Derbies or centenny—wotsits, and that's wy 1 'm in for the squeeze.
A fifty years'stretch on the throne is a record as ain't often made,
Pertikler in times like these 'ere, as is bad for the Kyalty trade.
Wot with dynimite, Chaelie, and duffers like Hyndman, Eeapotktn & Co.,
And dashed traitors like Gladstone and Moeley, kings' cribs are not wuth
arf a blow.
They seem always a gitting kicked out or blown up, mate, and suddent at that,
Jest as though they wos tram-car conductors, without no more rights than a rat.
But Hee Madgestt—bless 'er!—'as bested 'em. No one, dear Chaelie, can't say
She ain't 'ad a fair run for 'er money. And now it's 'er Juberlee Day;
And I mean bein' in it, I tell yer. I shan't shy at blueing a bob,
For my patriot soul's hup at pop-pint, and 'Aeey is fair on the job.
It's a rare fillaloo, and no error, Q. J. is all over the shop ;
Heard a bloke cryin' " Juberlee Winkles," and arter that where will they stop r
Fact is, Trade is still so dashed bad, and there's bin sech a run on the tin,
That most heveryone takes up the cry on the horf chance of jest a look in.
I am hup in the sterrups jest now, as you know, my dear Chaelie, thanks be!
And since I 've bin " hinterviewed "—well, even V. R. 'erself must know Me.
So I've togged myself up to the nines, mate, and if I should ketch the Queen's
heyes,
Well, she won't be ashamed of 'er subjeck, that's poz, dear old pal, and no flies!
It's in me, my pippin, it's in me, and, 'ang it, it's bound to come out, [lout;
That there jenny say quor, dontcher know, as divides the true gent from the
And if Mrs. GtrELPH, as we call 'er, should spot me—well, there I won't blow
Like that Bueealee Bill, but by Jingo she '11 see as I'm fair in the know.
I did 'ope to git into the Habbey; I ought to 'ave bin there, you see,
As a true repprysentative man, wich is wot I'm admitted to be.
But there is sech a lot of red-tape, Chaelie. Pancy wot might 'ave bin done
With this Juberlee Day if the Bigwigs 'ad only been fly to true fun !
Wy ain't there no Fireworks, for instance ? That there Dook of "Westminstee
Of candle-ends stuck in the winders is like that close-fisted old codge. [dodge,
~Wy didn't he stump up the ochre ? He rolls in it, Chaelie, old man,
And yet his contrybution to Toosday is this mangy taller-dip plan.
Wy when Geobgie the Thibd, poor old buffer !—was playin' 'is Juberlee game,
They 'ad larks with roast oxes and rockets, and wy shouldn't we do the same ?
Primrose '111 all ablaze with set-pieces, and bonfires all over the shop.
That's wot J should call doin' it prime, and 'twould catch the B. P. on the 'op.
If our toppers mean stickin' up top, mate, and not coming down with a run,
They must ladle the ochre out freer, and give us a little more fun.
jThey may be jest as rich as old Creeses, and none on us won't care a bob;
But if they turn stingy, old pal, they may jest as well turn up the job.
We '11 pervide 'em with L. S. D., Chaelie, with palaces, pensions, and parks;
I>ut if we supply the canaries, the toppers must let us 'ave larks,
ghat 's a moral, old man, trust yours truly. Their game is a trifle too steep,
And if there's one thing as won't wash, it is Ryalty done on the cheap.
Owsomever, that's jest by the way, mate. I've wolfed lots of jujubes, old man,
*or I mean to hooray till I'm hoarse, and I want to be heard if I can.
yer run up to town for the evening, and take a all-rounder with me
J-o see London light up for Victoeia P I tell yer it will be a Bpree.
Polly Peckhah will be on my arm, I can furnish you out with a gal
As will suit you right down to the ground, Chaelie. Do make a heffort, old pal.
it s a thing as we all oughter see ; I '11 mount all the topsail I can carry,
And if you '11 shove in your jib-boom, you '11 oblige yours right loyally,
'Aeey.
It is said that Mr. Davitt depends largely upon supply from American funds.
# Irish-American party are fond of Mr. Davitt, and he of them. Strong
anection between the parties. Quite—(no, not quite)—" Davitt and Jonathan."
., "The Pl6 Retelations."—We've heard the last of them. They are now
we "Over-F16."
THE BUFFALO BILLERIES.
By Dumb Crambo Jxmior.
King of the Cowboys and Duke See-you Chief comhing
of Bucking 'em. his Wig-wain.
/
('If- »j.■-,«■
'I
Our Artist is persuaded to try a
Injin-earring Department, mount. When last seen he -was
still soaring toward the setting sun.
THE ISLINGTON CAMPAIGN.
No better Show than the Military Tournament, with
Major Tolly in command, and Captain Dann—the
"hoarse soldier," as Mr. Punch first christened him
years ago—as Master of the Ring. The building the
bridge, the crossing it, and the assault on the fort gal-
lantly defended by the Military Band under the noble
old flag of '• Rtfreshment Contractors" waving above
their heads, were more exciting than last year, owing to
the Armed Train, which runs in screaming like a wild
Injine, and with Blue Jackets in front to work the gun
with a handle, as if it were a common street-organ. The
stage arrangements, the carrying off of the wounded boy,
and the ambulance lending assistance, reflected the
greatest credit on Colonel Onslow. The dead men acted
their parts to the lite. The audience was crowded, hot,
and enthusiastic. The welcome given to the Princess of
Wales's Own Hussars (or Lancers, we forget which)
was spontaneously hearty. Altogether a great success;
and Buffalo Bill's Show (except the Buokers) not " in
it" with the Military Tournament, which, it is to be
regretted, lasts only one week.
The Reform Club Ball was a splendid affair last Wed-
nesday. The dancers were plucky, and, in spite of crush
and heat, formed and re-formed over and over again.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
305
'AEEY ON THE JUBILEE.
Deae Chaelie,
You are a old 'ermit! Did think as you'd trot up to town,
To jine this 'ere Juberlee gammock and back hup the Court and the Crown.
I'd as soon be a bloomin' old Blue-Point deep down in the briny, dear boy,
As be mugged up in medders and mangolds with nothink to door enjoy.
The town's painted red I can tell yer, a reglar flare-up and no kid;
Got a seat for the Ryal Percession for which I'd to blue arf a quid ;
Pooty stiff, but then 'Abet's a patriot, the scene '11 be somethink immense,
And when larks and loyalty jine, I say wire in, and bust the expense 1
We shan't see sech another dust-up, Chaelie ; Juberlees ain't like green peas,
Or Derbies or centenny—wotsits, and that's wy 1 'm in for the squeeze.
A fifty years'stretch on the throne is a record as ain't often made,
Pertikler in times like these 'ere, as is bad for the Kyalty trade.
Wot with dynimite, Chaelie, and duffers like Hyndman, Eeapotktn & Co.,
And dashed traitors like Gladstone and Moeley, kings' cribs are not wuth
arf a blow.
They seem always a gitting kicked out or blown up, mate, and suddent at that,
Jest as though they wos tram-car conductors, without no more rights than a rat.
But Hee Madgestt—bless 'er!—'as bested 'em. No one, dear Chaelie, can't say
She ain't 'ad a fair run for 'er money. And now it's 'er Juberlee Day;
And I mean bein' in it, I tell yer. I shan't shy at blueing a bob,
For my patriot soul's hup at pop-pint, and 'Aeey is fair on the job.
It's a rare fillaloo, and no error, Q. J. is all over the shop ;
Heard a bloke cryin' " Juberlee Winkles," and arter that where will they stop r
Fact is, Trade is still so dashed bad, and there's bin sech a run on the tin,
That most heveryone takes up the cry on the horf chance of jest a look in.
I am hup in the sterrups jest now, as you know, my dear Chaelie, thanks be!
And since I 've bin " hinterviewed "—well, even V. R. 'erself must know Me.
So I've togged myself up to the nines, mate, and if I should ketch the Queen's
heyes,
Well, she won't be ashamed of 'er subjeck, that's poz, dear old pal, and no flies!
It's in me, my pippin, it's in me, and, 'ang it, it's bound to come out, [lout;
That there jenny say quor, dontcher know, as divides the true gent from the
And if Mrs. GtrELPH, as we call 'er, should spot me—well, there I won't blow
Like that Bueealee Bill, but by Jingo she '11 see as I'm fair in the know.
I did 'ope to git into the Habbey; I ought to 'ave bin there, you see,
As a true repprysentative man, wich is wot I'm admitted to be.
But there is sech a lot of red-tape, Chaelie. Pancy wot might 'ave bin done
With this Juberlee Day if the Bigwigs 'ad only been fly to true fun !
Wy ain't there no Fireworks, for instance ? That there Dook of "Westminstee
Of candle-ends stuck in the winders is like that close-fisted old codge. [dodge,
~Wy didn't he stump up the ochre ? He rolls in it, Chaelie, old man,
And yet his contrybution to Toosday is this mangy taller-dip plan.
Wy when Geobgie the Thibd, poor old buffer !—was playin' 'is Juberlee game,
They 'ad larks with roast oxes and rockets, and wy shouldn't we do the same ?
Primrose '111 all ablaze with set-pieces, and bonfires all over the shop.
That's wot J should call doin' it prime, and 'twould catch the B. P. on the 'op.
If our toppers mean stickin' up top, mate, and not coming down with a run,
They must ladle the ochre out freer, and give us a little more fun.
jThey may be jest as rich as old Creeses, and none on us won't care a bob;
But if they turn stingy, old pal, they may jest as well turn up the job.
We '11 pervide 'em with L. S. D., Chaelie, with palaces, pensions, and parks;
I>ut if we supply the canaries, the toppers must let us 'ave larks,
ghat 's a moral, old man, trust yours truly. Their game is a trifle too steep,
And if there's one thing as won't wash, it is Ryalty done on the cheap.
Owsomever, that's jest by the way, mate. I've wolfed lots of jujubes, old man,
*or I mean to hooray till I'm hoarse, and I want to be heard if I can.
yer run up to town for the evening, and take a all-rounder with me
J-o see London light up for Victoeia P I tell yer it will be a Bpree.
Polly Peckhah will be on my arm, I can furnish you out with a gal
As will suit you right down to the ground, Chaelie. Do make a heffort, old pal.
it s a thing as we all oughter see ; I '11 mount all the topsail I can carry,
And if you '11 shove in your jib-boom, you '11 oblige yours right loyally,
'Aeey.
It is said that Mr. Davitt depends largely upon supply from American funds.
# Irish-American party are fond of Mr. Davitt, and he of them. Strong
anection between the parties. Quite—(no, not quite)—" Davitt and Jonathan."
., "The Pl6 Retelations."—We've heard the last of them. They are now
we "Over-F16."
THE BUFFALO BILLERIES.
By Dumb Crambo Jxmior.
King of the Cowboys and Duke See-you Chief comhing
of Bucking 'em. his Wig-wain.
/
('If- »j.■-,«■
'I
Our Artist is persuaded to try a
Injin-earring Department, mount. When last seen he -was
still soaring toward the setting sun.
THE ISLINGTON CAMPAIGN.
No better Show than the Military Tournament, with
Major Tolly in command, and Captain Dann—the
"hoarse soldier," as Mr. Punch first christened him
years ago—as Master of the Ring. The building the
bridge, the crossing it, and the assault on the fort gal-
lantly defended by the Military Band under the noble
old flag of '• Rtfreshment Contractors" waving above
their heads, were more exciting than last year, owing to
the Armed Train, which runs in screaming like a wild
Injine, and with Blue Jackets in front to work the gun
with a handle, as if it were a common street-organ. The
stage arrangements, the carrying off of the wounded boy,
and the ambulance lending assistance, reflected the
greatest credit on Colonel Onslow. The dead men acted
their parts to the lite. The audience was crowded, hot,
and enthusiastic. The welcome given to the Princess of
Wales's Own Hussars (or Lancers, we forget which)
was spontaneously hearty. Altogether a great success;
and Buffalo Bill's Show (except the Buokers) not " in
it" with the Military Tournament, which, it is to be
regretted, lasts only one week.
The Reform Club Ball was a splendid affair last Wed-
nesday. The dancers were plucky, and, in spite of crush
and heat, formed and re-formed over and over again.