Punch (95.1888)

156

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [September 29, 1888.

'ARRY ON MARRIAGE.

Deae Charlie,

Your larst ivos a lark ; gave me fits and ncf error, old pal.
You've 'eard 'Aekt -was 'ooked after all, and engaged to old St/ddlewig's gal?

Come now! who are yer gettin' at, oarnt yer ? Me

make up to Carroty Meg ?
Are you on the mug-lumbering lay, or has someone
tin pulling your leg ?

"Who give you that orfioe, dear hoy ? It is wonderful

rum, swelp me "boh,
'Ow these ere sort o' things get ahout. Fact is,

Chaelie, I'm fair on the job,
As you know, with the ladies all round ; carnt resist

me, the sweet little dears;
But 'ook on to one ? Not me, Chaelie ; leastways,
I should 'ope not for years.

Run in "blinkers at my time of life ? Try the tandem

with me in the shafts ?
Not likely ! I likes a short run with the trimmest of

tight little crafts;
But one consort all over the course like, is not
'Arey's form by a lump ;
'Ow could you imagine, dear boy, as yours truly 'ad gone off his chump ?

Is Marriage a failure, my pippin ? " Oh, ask me another," sez you ;

" That kibosh 'as 'ad a long innings, and wants yorking out." Werry true !

The D. T. is a regular mug-trap, there isn't a doubt about that,

But you must ha' bin reading it, Charlie, to go and book me for a flat.

"Is Marriage a failure ?" old mivvies are asking. Of course that depends ;
But a dashing young feller like me, with good looks, and good 'ealth, and good
friends, [and nice,

Knows a trick that's worth two on it, Charlie. "While life goes on nutty
And the ochre slings in pooty slick, it is blooming bad bizness to splice.

Look at swells! They ain't in no dashed 'urry to church themselves out of
good fun;

And wy ? Clear as mud, my dear feller! The cash keeps 'em fair on the run.
"When they do get stone-broke prematoor like, as 'appen it may to the best,
Then they looks for a Missus with money, and rucks in along o' the rest.

But the ruck is no place for a racer as hasn't yet parted with pace,
Ain't aged, nor yet turned a roarer, but still 'as a chance of the race.
While a hoss can find backers, dear boy, it will run if it's got any blood,
And when no 'andicapping won't land it, it's time then to go to the stud.

I mean 'aving a run for my money; no 'arness and nosebag for me;
Leastways not at present, my pippin ; I like to feel rorty and free,
And the gals likes it too, I can tell yer ; lor' bless yer, if I did a splice _
D'yer think I shoidd be so much sought for, or found arf as jolly and nice ?

Wot mucks me, old man, is the manner iu which a chap gets the off-shunt
As soon as ho's labelled engaged," and so 'eld to be out of the 'unt.
He may be jest as nice as Jemimer, all ilare-up, and everythink fly,
But when once he gits wot's called feeonsay, the gals jolly soon do a guy !

If this 'ere tommy-rot got about, mate—I mean my engagement to Meg,—
It 'ud spile 'Aery's game with the gals wus than fits or a dashed wooden leg.
No; it's " I'd be a butterfly," Charlie,' with me, for a long time to come;
Married life may be ticketed honey, but I know it's more of a hum.

"Spoons" is proper; the best barney out, mate; but marriage—that brings
knifc-and-fork.

Fancy carving for five, plus the Missus! I toll you, old pal, it means work.
You remember Bob Binks—a rare dasher! fair filberts he wos on a spree,
Now he 'as to grub seven, all told, and he ain't five year older than me.

Met him yesterday, Charlie. '' Well Bobbie, 'ow trots it, my topper ? " sez I.
'Trot, 'Arry," sez he, "ain't the word ; 'ardly runs to the crawl of a fly."
He'd a hapron on, Charlie, and kicksies as must ha' been cut by his wife,
Him as used to sport Kino's best dittos on week days ! And that's married life !

"Wot, is Marriage a failure?" I chuckles. "Oh, cheese it, old feller!"
sez Bob,

And—he swore 'twas a cold in the 'ead, but I'm blowed if it wasn't a sob.
' Seven mouths, and six weeks out of work, mate! In Queer Street, and cleared
ot the quids!

I should just make a 'ole in the water, if 'tworn't for the wife and the kids."

I stood him a lotion, poor beggar; he'd stood me a lot in his time,
For I was jest iresh on the war-path when Bobbie was fair in his prime.
Great Scott, wot a patter he 'ad, and a mouth on 'im, ah ! like the doose ;
And now he wears old 'ome-made bags, and can 'ardly say bo to a goose.

'' The kids is the cruxr of the question," says Mrs. Lynn Linton. In course !
Bobbie Bines could ha told her that, Charlte, and put it with dollops more
She's a-teachmg er grandmother, she is, although she's a littery swell, [force.
And as to " the State steppm in, yah'. the State knows its book fur too well.

If the country took care of the kids, and diworce was

made easy all round,
"Wy, I'd marry, mate, early and often, and so would lots

more, I '11 be bound.
But, oh my, wot a mix, my dear Charlie ! Free Love

and Free Contract ? Oh, yus!
The Guvment as Grandmother's dear, mate, but wot

would it cost as a Nuss ?

In one thing, old pal, I go pairs, with this Mrs. Lynn
Linton exact.

She sez it's a—let'see, wot is it?—a " physiological
fact"

That some ehaps who 're fair flamers as lovers, are

failures as 'usbands. That's me!
So I mean spooning round like permiskus, and Mrs. L. L.

would agree.

Whether man's poly—wot's it ?—by nature, I 'ni blowed

if I know, my dear boy,
But a man, if he isn't a juggins, makes fair for one

mark—to enjoy.
If I was a Toff and 'ad tin, I should do as the Toffs do,

no doubt.

Yank on to one gal, a fair screamer, and yet keep my
ogles about.

That's wot I call genuine yum-yum, fair rations all

round, and no kid ;
But it's doosed expensive, dear boy, and not done on a

couple of quid.
Ah! a lot of highflyers is spiked for the want of the

ochre, wus luck!
Wot's the good of a way with the women all round,

when a cove's got the chuck ?

No, Charlie, the dowdy-domestic, pap-bowls, p'ramber-

lators, and that
Is not my idea of the rosy, so Meg don't 'ook me for

a flat.

If it over should run to a Wife, and—well, trimmings,

perhaps I may marry,
But till I can splice ah lah Toff, Charlie, no double-

'arness for 'Arey.

"The Elizabethan Drama Revived" at the Cri-
teeion.—See Mr. Maltby as the Tutor. First-rate
acting. Also Lottie Venn's Betsy. _ All good : rattling
through three Acts in two hours in splendid fashion.
The Author, being present one night, thought he would
take a leaf out of Mr. Rideb Haggaed's latest book, and
mark his approbation of the performance in a speech
from his private box. Fortunately he only thought.

AN ADMIRALTY BALLAD.

{Lately Sang, with far loo much success, by Hie First Lord.)

Yotr tell me that the lately gathered fleet

Reflects no credit on the British Navy,—
That, formed of ships of types grown obsolete,

It well may set alarmists crying " Cave .'"
You point to bursting guns, defective speed,

To priming boilers, and insist 'tis funny
That I of all these things should take no heed.

" No heed," forsooth! "lis that I have no money !
For, let the angered country fume or frown,
You see, I'm bound to keep expenses down.

So if to-moiTOW, by some grave mischance,

These piping times of peace should know infraction,
And war declared with our good neighbour, France,

Should, see us worsted in some naval action,
And if our food-supply should halt,—then cease,

And famine force us in capitulation
To sue upon our bended knees for peace,

And bite the dust in our humiliation,
I still should glory, though they sacked the town,
That in my day 1 kept expenses down !

Well Beeoee the Time.—No, no ! We cannot stand
this! Just as the summer is beginning—September 18,—
but better late than never, I find, placed on my study
table, with the compiler's compliments, a copy of Letts's
Diary of 18S0! ! ! Out, Letts !

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