Punch: Punch (96.1889)

January 5, 1889.] PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI. l

THEME WITH VARIATIONS

Seated to-day at the organ,

Ready to play what you please,

I gaze like an infinite Gorgon,

Till you feel hardly at ease.

Hark to the sough of the bellows
Storing harmonious gales,

When the pipes speak to their fellows—
Well, I will play you the Seales.

Out of this simple material
Music’s vast multitude throngs,

Festal and plagal and ferial,

Operas, dirges, and songs.

Here is a clue to unravel,

Here is a theme never fails ;

A Switchback unending to travel
Over the smooth-running Scales.

Hark, how we rush up the gamut,

A ladder in fieriest need ;

And now, like a hind who says, “Dam u
We play very low down indeed.

Up, like a storm-beaten packet,

Down, and the passenger pales:

Here comes the steward, thro’ the racke
Gaily I play you the Scales.

Off goes the right hand, convulsively,
Up to the manual’s end;

Left hand pursues it impulsively,

Like an unauthorised friend.

Fashion’s caprices may criticise
Aught of its standard that fails ;

Fearing scorn’s finger nor pity’s eyes,
Boldly I practise the Scales.

This is a wedding march—trousseau,
Presents, and favours, and rice ;

Now ’tis the Dream of a Rousseau
Changed to a waltz in a trice.

Thus, unencumber’d, indefinite,

Each his own melody hail s,

Each sees the hand of a chef in it,

Safe in the haven of Scales.

Some may interpret them leatherly,
Thunder of fort and of fleet ;

Others will warble them weatherly,
Milkmaid and ferry complete ;
Vesperish, cloister’d, and choirsome,
Heimiveh with mill-wheels and dales,
Frankly unmeaning and tiresome,

All are embraced by the Scales.

Trade, with its spacious surroundings,
Spices, and bullion, and bales,
Argosies, sinkings, and soundings,
Postage for far-away mails ;

Justice with eyes in a bandage,

Fish who are chivied by whales—

Ah, you might live to a grand age
Ere you could play out the Scales.

Brennus and Rome, and its history,
Alpenstocks, axes, and veils,

Dragons and creatures of mystery
Swingeing their horrible tails.

Jockey, and boxer, and rower,

Men who climb walls out of gaols,

Butterflies-bother that blower!

He’s let the wind out of the Scales !

NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS.

Lord Salisbury.—To be more cautious in
my expressions, more temperate in my j udg-
ments, and generaUy more reticent all round.

Mr. Gladstone. — To fire away at Home
Rule, hammer and tongs, as hard as ever,
and keej> it up red-hot till an unexpected
flare-up somewhere gives me a chance of
cutting in, and, by hook or crook, carrying
my point.

Mr. JV. II. Smith. — To let myself be
quietly effaced, and imperceptibly yield my
position as Leader of the House to my bland
and amiable friend Goschen.

Air. Goschen.—To gracefully and stealthily

eclipse and supplant my revered and re-
spected colleague, Mr. W. H. Smith.

Mr. Stanhope.—To hit upon some scheme
by which, with or without the aid of the
Department, I may, within the next ten
years, hope to make good the deficiency of
guns at the present moment experienced
keenly by both the Services.

Lord George Hamilton.—To calm and
appease public opinion by a further flourish
over fresh “ Manceuvres,” and to lull Lord
Charles into quietude by showing him (on
paper), what gigantic efforts I am making to
put the Navy into proper condition.

M. de Lesseps.—To save my own vanity
from disastrous defeat by appealing to the
vanity of my fellow countrymen to bolster it
up by contributing £20,000,000 for the pur-
pose.

General Boulanger.—To get into the Dic-
tator’s chair, somehow, and. then watch to
see which way the National Cat means to
jump.

Bnnce Bismarck.—To take care that not a
halfpenny out of the Imperial Exchequer
is wasted over this East African Business, but
to see that it is nevertheless backed up by the
assistance of my pliant and accommodating
friend, Salisbury.

Mr. Balfour.—To keep the whip-hand of
that rascally pack of bloodhounds, the Irish
Party in the House of Commons.

The Irish Tarty in the House of Com-
mons.—To lose no opportunity for yelping,
growling, and snarling at that miserable cur,
the Irish Secretary.

The Chief Commissioner of Police.—To
take care that, now I’ve got fairly into
Warren’s boots, I don’t manage to “ put my
foot in it” quite so often as he did.

Mr. Irving.—Not to cut short the run
of my newly-mounted u Macbeth” at the
Lyceum, till the public shout to me, “ Hold !
Enough! ”

YOL. XCVI.

B