DOI Heft:
May 25, 1889
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17687#0259
250
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[May 25, 1889.
/ESTHETICS.
Daughter of the House. “By tiib way, Mr. Smith, may I have your kind permission to take this off the Cabinet, and put
it inside ? The modern Masculine Hat is such a deplorably hideous Object ! ”
“ POOR LITTLE BILL ! ”
Master William: Smith, loquitur:—
Well, of all the orkud, limpity lumpity
babbies as ever did bother a nuss,
I do declare that this kid of yours is the
heaviest, ’Enery. Couldn't be wuss.
It flops in the bead, and it drags on the arms,
and it doubles up in the middle like fun.
Now don’t stand bowling there, ’Enery,
don't, but up and tell us wot’s to be done,
I never did like the looks of it, drat it! it
never wasn’t a promising kid,
But you ivos so sweet on it; said you would
carry it easy, ’Enery, you know you
did;
And now where are we ? A regular fix, and
the way out of it I don’t quite see,
And there you stands a blubbering ’Enery,
_ a-leaving the beast of a babby to me.
Kids of this stock ain’t healthy, ’Enery; you
never rears ’em do what you will,
Which young. Fair-Trade was a blighted
babe, and it’s just the same with this
Little Bill.
Look at him, limp and lumpy, ’Enery, weak
in the hack, and with weepy eyes ;
Nobody loves him, and none will nuss him ;
all hates a hinfant as flops and cries.
Bother that blessed old Mother Purtection!
Her brats are always such rickety imps.
Oh, wot’s the use of denying the parentage ?
It’s only she as brings forth such shrimps.
Q-ot us to nuss. it, you in particular, that is
the wust of it, ’Enery, dear.
Artful old image, she’s done us neatly; and
you ’re fair flummoxed, and I feels queer.
; Such a sweet child, with
sugar, healthy, too, and
a temper like
costs little to
keep ! ”
That’s how the had old baggage beguiled us;
and now it is sick, and does nothing but
weep.
Sugar, indeed! Wich Wirgin Winegar’s
much more like it, and not molasses.
And as for cheap? Oh, ’Enery! Enery!
we wants to nobble the working classes.
And nussing up such rickety babbies as this
won’t do it, I sadly fear.
It will cost no end for pap and peppermint;
in that sense only the babby ’s dear.
“ Dear little thing ! ” says you a snivelling.
I only wish—hut that’s far too good—
As you could gobble it up on the quiet, as
t’other Wolf did Red Riding Hood!
Can’t farm it out to some Mrs. Brownrigg,
I s’xiose ? No, ’Enery, no such luck !
We’ve got it on our hands, for certain ; and
you stand helpless, and I’m fair stuck.
Begin to sympathise with Herod, and think
them Spartans were not far wrong.
Oh, ’Enery, ’Enery ! you as told me that
Little Bill was so sweet and strong !
Wot are we going to do with it, ’Enery?
Wish you wouldn’t stand bellowing there.
I am a reglar Pill Garlic, I am; ’pon my
honour it isn’t fair,
If we gave it an over-dose of “ cordial,” and
sent it into a lasting sleep,
Why, there 's the body to be disposed of, and
it’s a thing as we cannot keep.
Happy thought! Oh, ’Enery, ’Enery! here’s
a well in a ’andy spot,
Like what Lady Audley dropped her husband
down, and 1 tell you wot,
I’m tired out, and you ain’t no use, and
there’s nobody looking; wot do you
think?
Just a step, a slip, a stumble, close by the
well—on the very brink ?
AYhen Johnny Green found the cat a nuisance,
why, into the well he was prompt to
pop it.
Murder poor Little Bill ? Why, no; but
we cannot carry it, so let's drop it!
An Empress’s Massager.—Dr. Metzger,
the celebrated doctor whose remedy is the
Massage for everything, has taken the Em-
press of Austria under his care, and she is
recovering her strength and health. The
Observer recently said of him that the Doctor
is so thorough-going a Republican that he
wouldn’t cross the street for a Sovereign.
Nor would our courtliest London doctor ; but
he would for a guinea. If Metzger suc-
ceeds, all the Crowned Heads of Europe will
patronise Massage, and Dr. M. will be brought
out as a Company, entitled, the Massageries
Imperiales.
Foreign to Our Habits. — The Brave
General, like Brer Fox, is “layin’ low.”
This is wise generalship, but he would do
well to advise any of his hot-tempered fol-
lowers not to go about with revolvers in their
pockets. When M. Rochefort presented the
weapon at M. Pjxotell, why did not the
latter, who is a well-known black-and-white
artist, draw and defend himself ?
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[May 25, 1889.
/ESTHETICS.
Daughter of the House. “By tiib way, Mr. Smith, may I have your kind permission to take this off the Cabinet, and put
it inside ? The modern Masculine Hat is such a deplorably hideous Object ! ”
“ POOR LITTLE BILL ! ”
Master William: Smith, loquitur:—
Well, of all the orkud, limpity lumpity
babbies as ever did bother a nuss,
I do declare that this kid of yours is the
heaviest, ’Enery. Couldn't be wuss.
It flops in the bead, and it drags on the arms,
and it doubles up in the middle like fun.
Now don’t stand bowling there, ’Enery,
don't, but up and tell us wot’s to be done,
I never did like the looks of it, drat it! it
never wasn’t a promising kid,
But you ivos so sweet on it; said you would
carry it easy, ’Enery, you know you
did;
And now where are we ? A regular fix, and
the way out of it I don’t quite see,
And there you stands a blubbering ’Enery,
_ a-leaving the beast of a babby to me.
Kids of this stock ain’t healthy, ’Enery; you
never rears ’em do what you will,
Which young. Fair-Trade was a blighted
babe, and it’s just the same with this
Little Bill.
Look at him, limp and lumpy, ’Enery, weak
in the hack, and with weepy eyes ;
Nobody loves him, and none will nuss him ;
all hates a hinfant as flops and cries.
Bother that blessed old Mother Purtection!
Her brats are always such rickety imps.
Oh, wot’s the use of denying the parentage ?
It’s only she as brings forth such shrimps.
Q-ot us to nuss. it, you in particular, that is
the wust of it, ’Enery, dear.
Artful old image, she’s done us neatly; and
you ’re fair flummoxed, and I feels queer.
; Such a sweet child, with
sugar, healthy, too, and
a temper like
costs little to
keep ! ”
That’s how the had old baggage beguiled us;
and now it is sick, and does nothing but
weep.
Sugar, indeed! Wich Wirgin Winegar’s
much more like it, and not molasses.
And as for cheap? Oh, ’Enery! Enery!
we wants to nobble the working classes.
And nussing up such rickety babbies as this
won’t do it, I sadly fear.
It will cost no end for pap and peppermint;
in that sense only the babby ’s dear.
“ Dear little thing ! ” says you a snivelling.
I only wish—hut that’s far too good—
As you could gobble it up on the quiet, as
t’other Wolf did Red Riding Hood!
Can’t farm it out to some Mrs. Brownrigg,
I s’xiose ? No, ’Enery, no such luck !
We’ve got it on our hands, for certain ; and
you stand helpless, and I’m fair stuck.
Begin to sympathise with Herod, and think
them Spartans were not far wrong.
Oh, ’Enery, ’Enery ! you as told me that
Little Bill was so sweet and strong !
Wot are we going to do with it, ’Enery?
Wish you wouldn’t stand bellowing there.
I am a reglar Pill Garlic, I am; ’pon my
honour it isn’t fair,
If we gave it an over-dose of “ cordial,” and
sent it into a lasting sleep,
Why, there 's the body to be disposed of, and
it’s a thing as we cannot keep.
Happy thought! Oh, ’Enery, ’Enery! here’s
a well in a ’andy spot,
Like what Lady Audley dropped her husband
down, and 1 tell you wot,
I’m tired out, and you ain’t no use, and
there’s nobody looking; wot do you
think?
Just a step, a slip, a stumble, close by the
well—on the very brink ?
AYhen Johnny Green found the cat a nuisance,
why, into the well he was prompt to
pop it.
Murder poor Little Bill ? Why, no; but
we cannot carry it, so let's drop it!
An Empress’s Massager.—Dr. Metzger,
the celebrated doctor whose remedy is the
Massage for everything, has taken the Em-
press of Austria under his care, and she is
recovering her strength and health. The
Observer recently said of him that the Doctor
is so thorough-going a Republican that he
wouldn’t cross the street for a Sovereign.
Nor would our courtliest London doctor ; but
he would for a guinea. If Metzger suc-
ceeds, all the Crowned Heads of Europe will
patronise Massage, and Dr. M. will be brought
out as a Company, entitled, the Massageries
Imperiales.
Foreign to Our Habits. — The Brave
General, like Brer Fox, is “layin’ low.”
This is wise generalship, but he would do
well to advise any of his hot-tempered fol-
lowers not to go about with revolvers in their
pockets. When M. Rochefort presented the
weapon at M. Pjxotell, why did not the
latter, who is a well-known black-and-white
artist, draw and defend himself ?