Punch (94.1888)

230

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON

CHARIVARI.

[Mat 19, 1888.

TWO NASTY ONES.

Jones (who has not been asked). "Ullo! another op those bio Crushes at
Lady Gatherum's, where I'm told the Butler is allowed to invite his

own particular friends. you were there, of course!"

Brown (roho has). "Yes—and tou weren't. i suppose the Butler had

to draw the LlNE somewhere ! "

TO MAY. (To Cease Fooling.)

The Winter is long:, like the coal and gas bills, and longer has grown the
shamefaced day,

And some of the conscientious hedges are keeping the-feast, though it's far
from gay; [is May ?

The grass is mown, and the meads are 'ready, the trees are waiting, but where

What must the ouckoo be thinking of you, and what must the nightingale,
Clinging at eve to his bloomy spray with the nightingale's notion of tooth
and nail,

And his trills and ripples go down the wind, like the shreds of a fairy sail.

The trees, like masts for the festal banners, are ready for their array,

And the early comers, in wasted triumph, stream to the stormy day,

While the blossoms are blown about like smoke, and the under-leaves are grey.

But you pause in your wilful, wayward sport, with a tear in your bold blue eye,
And the sun Bhines out, and the wind has dropp'd, and the woodland voices ory
With thronging rapture of faith unshaken, that the storms have all gone by.

0 May, shall we never see you coming, coming at laBt to the patient earth,
With just the flush of the hawthorn petals, maiden shyness, or bridal mirth ?
Think of your gardens and meads and rivers ; scatter your life on the woodland's
dearth.

Postscriptum (when the wind has changed).
So, after all, you were only playing, hiding behind the birch-crowned hill,
Where the light at evening is clearly golden, a blend of sunbeam and daffodil,
And the rays through the new leaves drop like honey, whence flowers their
wine distil.

Oh, wayward May, in your Mayward way you have suddenly come to the world
like love

In a wonder of beauty that baffles telling, on earth below and in heaven above,
While the mellow call of the cuckoo mingles with the deep content of the dove.

The mustard and cress in the kitchen garden gladdens the householder's heart
at morn,

And merry voices are heard at tennis, and the click of

the bat from the green is borne
Where the balls keep the cricket-net meshes swaying

like gusts on a field of oorn.

On a votive peg we hang the ulster, and bask in the sun

in light array,
And the long, long Winter is scarce remembered like a

guest that tarried a day,
And we gravely believe your nightingale whisper, " It's

alwaysJLike this in May."

MR. PUNCH'S ALARMIST ALPHABET.

(Dedicated to our Naval and Military experts, to whose warn-
ings our Rulers attach no particular importance.)

A's the Alarm that the Country's defenceless.
B's the Belief such assertions are senseless.
C's the Commission that sits with regard to them;
D our Defences—the one topic barred to them I
E's the Expense—it's supposed we shall grudge it 1
F is the Fear of increasing the Budget.
G- stands for Guns, which we thought we had got.
H is the Howl when we hear we have not.
I's the Inquiry, abuses to right meant;
J is the Judgment (a crushing indictment!);
K is the Knot of red tape someone ties on it;
L's Limbo—where no one will ever set eyes on it I
M is the Murmur, too quickly forgotten.
N is our Navy, which some say is rotten.
O's the Official who bungles with bonhomie.
P's Party-Government—all for Economy.
Q is the Question engrossing our Statesmen.
R is Retrenchment, whioh so fascinates men.
S standi for Services, starved (out of Policy).
T is the Time when—too late I—we our folly see.
TJ is the Uproar of Struggle Titanic ;
V is the Vote we shall pass in a panic.
W's War—with the Capture of London.
X our Xplosions of fury, when undone,
y is the Yoke we shall have to get used to.
Z is the Zero our Empire's reduced to I

THE NEXT ARMADA.

A Brie} Chapter from the History of Macaulay Junior.
#•*•**

In the City the agitation was fearful. None could
doubt that the decisive crisis was approaching. It was
known, from the second edition of the Times, that the
joint Armada, carrying everything before it, was con-
tinuing its victorious progress up the Channel. Ply-
mouth had fallen without firing a shot. Portsmouth had
speedily followed suit. The former had found itself, at
the eleventh hour, unprovided with a single gun. The
latter, at the crucial moment, discovered that it was
still waiting the arrival of its ammunition. When
these facts, mysteriously whispered at first with bated
breath, became, later in the day, authenticated by the
appearance of succeeding editions of the morning papers,
trie public excitement knew no bounds. A hideous panic
seized the Stock Exchange. " Gosohens " went down to
sixty at a single leap. Five well-known Stockbrokers
went off their heads, and were removed in cabs by the
police in violent hysterios. The Lord Mayor appeared
on the steps of the Mansion House, and endeavoured to
quell the riot. He was at once recognised by the mob,
and pelted with Pass-Books.

But things assumed a most threatening aspect at the
Admiralty. A vast multitude had assembled at White-
hall, and rendered Parliament Street impassable. There
was an angry howl at the " Board." The Police took the
precautionary measure of closing the gates. The First Lord
appeared inside the enclosure, and his presence was the
signal for an ominous roar. He was deathly pale and
trembling, but he managed to scramble up the balus-
trade, and gazed feebly down on the raving thousands
below. He was understood to say that when next Parlia-
ment met it would be asked to appoint another Committee
to inquire into the naval administration of the country.
His speech was cut short by execrations, and he hastily
withdrew. Ten minutes later it was understood that he
had esoaped by the back way over the palings into tb.3