Punch (93.1887)

October 8, 1887.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 157

OUR AMERICAN COUSIN AGAIN TO THE FRONT.

THE BATTLE OP THE WAY.

A Lay of Lake-land.

" Now, Lake-men, claim your right of way, and see the business done,
Come with, your crowbar, spade, and pick;—and sure the battle's
won,

For bolts and bars show Speddtng's race that you don't care a fig,
And prove that right's no match for might when rallied round
Latrigg."

So shouted Rottth-Fitzpatrice:, and Lake-men with a cheer,
To Fawe Park Grates from Keswick's peaceful slopes were drawing
near,

When high upon the topmost wall as if to break the spell,
There uprose the Solicitor of Mrs. Spencer Bell.

He spoke and as his voice he raised his arms he waved around,
" Beware," he cried, "what you're about, for this is private ground.
With Bundry pains and penalties you '11 surely be repaid.
"Who dare to-day set hand to move this lawful barricade!"

But Routh-Fitzpatrick heeded not his protest, nor replied;

So Mrs. Bell's Solicitor, he promptly stood aside,

And watched the next proceedings with a disapproving frown,

For up went crow-bar, pick, and axe, and gate and bar went down.

Yes, 'neath the sturdy Lake-men's blows the barriers gave way,
And lo ! in rushed the joyous thronging crowd without delay ;
And some on foot, and some in drags, and some in waggons stowed,
Held on their way triumphantly down the disputed road.

So onward towards Silver Hill advanced the active host,
And cleared each wire fence away, and levelled every post;
And when with crowbar, pick, and axe, they'd made their purpose
plain,

To Nichol Ending they returned in triumph once again.

Then Secretary Jenkinson uprose and spoke a word,

And said how by the sights that day his manly breast was stirred,

And how that, if on Saturday as they had now begun

They held their own, they might regard the fight already won.

And then a telegram from Mr. Plimsoll he read out,

The which the Lake-men greeted with a hearty answering shout;

And Mrs. Bell's Solicitor retired from the field,

But with an ugly look that seemed to say, " We '11 never yield I"

And so commenced the fray that day, and though we know, of course,
As everybody tells us, there's no remedy in force,
2faU, if the Lake-men's pick and axe this matter sets at rest,
We must admit how ills to cure at Keswick they know best.

Hut which side wins or loses in the still impending fight,
Whether force of public freedom, or trick of legal right,
J-he eager world on-looking may have watched a deadlier fray,
But none more keen in contest than the Battle of the Way!

Pabhellite Provebb {applied to the Baleful Balfour).—Give
him an inch (of law) and he '11 take a (National) League.

THE MORNING'S REFLECTIONS.

Scene—Breakfast-table of an Illustrious Statesman of stalwart
proportions and " Gladstonian " politics. Illustrious Statesman
discovered, admiringly perusing three closely-printed columns of
leading Morning Paper.

I. S. [soliloquising). Hah! Really reads very well, very well
indeed. Points neatly put, hits smartly delivered! They shan't
call me the "Champion Slugger" for nothing.
American pugilist, named Sullivan, original
bearer of_ that
honorific title, I
believe. Should
like to see Stjl-
livan. A fellow-
feeling makes us
wondrous — curi-
ous. Not kind,
always, or Joseph
and William—
but no matter.

Hm — m — m!
Hm—m—m—m
Excellent! Spark-
lers calculated to
illuminate Lewes,
st'artle Sussex,
electrify the
country. Slugging
and sparkling my
specialities. One
or two decent
speakers about; ,

our distinguish- yVy1-p~
ed leader " can—
distinguish, at great length' and with considerable verbosi—I mean
eloquence. Randolph can* rattle, and ,Moblet can pound, and
Rosebebt twitter pleasantly. But they can't coruscate and crush.
The power of the bolt, which at once shines and smashes, is Jovian—
not llhodian, as Dizzy once nastily suggested. "My thunder," and
I'm proud of it.

By the way, wonder what the other "Thunderer" thinks of it.
Touches a tender chord, the chord of memory. Lost chord now,
indeed. But no matter, let's see. [Turns paper.

Hm—m—m! Hm—m—m—m! Hah! Too bad ! "His bludgeon,
or—considering his present connection—may we say his shillelagh ? "
Tut-tut! The Cloud-Compeller as a bludgeon-man, the Titan-
queller flourishing a blackthorn like a tenth-rate Theseus, a Hi-
bernian Hercules! Absurd! No sense of keeping whatever,
" Swashbuckler," too! Nasty, and not even new!

As to " beating the big drum in Sussex "—why. how often have I
done it—to their delight—in their own pages ! ' Travesty of con-
temporary history "—this to their own omniscient Histobicus I

Shows the " Champion Slugger " has struck home, though. Tour
hard-hitter—your fellow who smites, as the appreciative rustio
(Sussex man, I wonder P) put it, " blooming hard, blooming high, and
blooming often," generally scores—even in the cricket-field. I am
the Bonnob of debate, the Thornton of the platform. And doesn't
the "Ring" like it?

Knocked holes in the " Jubilee Session," I fancy, " Ignorant people
who mistake the flush of fever for the bloom of health, the torpor of
apoplexy for the tranquillity of sleep," think that blazing Balfour
and stertorous Smith are never " a penny the worse" for my re-
peated poundings. Pooh I '' Salted with fire "—my fire—they—not
being of the indomitable race of Dizzr—will not " undecaying live "
much longer. I prophesy—but no, prophecy, private prophecy at
least, is not profitable. Don't suppose a Delphie priest, or even a
Derby tipster ever wasted time m prophesying to himself!

Still—still, if Champion " slugging" combined with coruscation
does lead to Leadership—as why should it not ?—I fancy I know
some one who will have what the sporting patterers call, I think " a
look in" one of these days. Parochial shrewdness is all very well
so is philosophical precision combined with Puritan fervour But the
"swashing blow" strikes home, and if the Unionist bucklers are
beaten down thereby, let who likes cry " swashbuckler!" As to
" shillelaghs "—why is not blackthorns to the front' " the order of
the hour P =:===========__^ [.Left smiling.

In Troubled Waters.—Mr. Chamberlain is being praised in some
quarters for saying that we should leave Irish affairs, and "attend
to our own business." The inference seems to be that" Irish affairs "
are not our business." Is not Ireland as much a part of the United
Kingdom as England, Scotland, or Wales ? We shall be glad of a
line from Mr. Chamberlain—when he gets to his Fisheries.

VOL. 2 ci a.

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