DOI issue:
August 10, 1889
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17688#0077
August 10, 1889.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
71
VOCES POPULI.
FREE SPEECH.
Scene—An Open Space. Rain falling m torrents. An Indignation
Meeting is being held to protest against the Royal Grants. The
Chairman presides at a small portable reading-desk, generally
alluded to as “ The Nostrum ; " a ring of more or less Earnest
Radicals, under umbrellas, surround him. Speakers address the
Meeting in rapid succession ; a Man with a red flag gives it a
sinister wave at any particularly vigorous expression. Her
Gracious Majesty the Queen is repeatedly described as ‘ ‘ this
mis-rubble ole bein'," an Archbishop is invariably mentioned as
an “ Arch-rogue,” while the orators and the audience appear
from their remarks to be the only persons capable of worthily
guiding this unhappy Country's destinies. Policemen in couples
look on from a distance and smile indulgently.
An Orator {bitterly). The weather is against us, Feller Republi-
kins, there’s no denyin’ that. As we were tramping along ’ere,
through the mud and in the rain, wet to the skin, I couldn’t ’elp
remarking to a friend o’ mine, that if it had been a pidging-shootin’
match at Urlingham, or a Race-meeting at Haseot, things ’ud ha’
been diff’rent! Ther’d ha’ bin blue sky and sunshine enough then.
Well, I ’spose hany weather’s considered good enough for the likes
of hus! Hany weather ’ll do for pore downtrod slaves to assert
their man’ood and their hindependence in ! {Cries of “ Shame ! ")
Never you mind—hour turn ’ll come some day! We shan’t halways
be ’eld down, and muzzled, and silenced, and prevented uttering
the hindignation we ’ve a right to feel! {Bellowing.) We shall make
our vices ’eard one day! But I’m reminded by my friend as I’ve
got to keep to the pint. Well {he composes his features into a
sneer) I’m told as ’ow ’Er Most Gracious Madjesty—(“Booing"
from Earnest Radicals)—’Er Most Gracious Madjesty—as she calls
’erself—’as put by a little matter of a millun an’ a ’arf—since she
came to the Throne. Now, Feller Republikins, that millun an’ a
’arf ’as come out of your pockets !
Several Persons {ivho do not look as if they paid a heavy Income-
tax). ’Ear ’ear!
Orator. Yes, it belongs to the People—ah! and you’ve a legal right
to demand it hack—a legal right ! And I arsk you—if that millun
and a ’arf of money was to be divided among the Toilers of London
ter-morrow—’ow many Hunemployed should we see ? {Crowd deeply
impressed by this forcible argument.) Yet we ’re arst to put our
’ands in our pockits to support the Queen’s children!
A Gentleman with very short hair. Shame—never! [Puts his
hand in somebody else’s pocket by way of emphasising his declaration.
Orator. Feller Republikins, if a Queen don’t do the work as she’s
paid for doin’ of, what ought to be done with ’er ? I put it to you !
A Very Earnest Radical. The Scaffild !
[Looks round nervously to see if a Policeman is within hearing.
A Fat Lady {who has been ejaculating, “ Oh, it is a shime, it is! ”
at every fresh instance of Royal expenditure). Well, I must say
that’s rather strong langwidge !
Another Orator. Gentlemen, I regret to say that, on this monstrous
fraud and attempted imposition known as “The Royal Grants Bill,”
Mr. Gladstone voted with the Government. [Frantic applause.
Orator {puzzled). Yes, Gentlemen, I am here to state facts, and
I am ashamed to say, that on this single occasion Mr. Gladstone—
went wrong. [Shouts of “ No ! No ! ”
A Fervid Gladstonian {waving his umbrella). Three cheers for
Mr. Gladstone, what-Aeuer he does !
[The Crowd join in heartily : Orator decides to drop the point,
particularly as it does not seem to affect the Meeting's condem-
nation of the principle of the Bill.
An Irish Patriot. I’ve often harrd tell, Gintlemen, of a certain
stra-ange animal they carl a “Conservative Warkin-Man” {Roars
of laughter.) A Warkin-Man a Conservative! Why, bliss me
sowl, the thing’s absurd! There niver was such a purrson in this
Warid. A Conservative Warkin-Man! why—{takes refuge in pro-
fanity.) If there was, why don’t we iver hear ’um in an assimhly
of this sort F Why hasn’t he the common manly courage to come
forward and defind his opinions ? We 'd hear ’um, Gintlemen. It’s
the proud boast of Radicals and Republikins that they’d give free
speech and a fair hearin’ to ivery man, no matter hwhat his opinions
are, hut ye ’ll niver see ’um stip farward at ahl—and hwhy ?
A Decent Mechanic. Well look ’ere, mate, I’m a Conservative
Working-Man, if ye’d like to know, and I ain’t afraid to defend
my opinions. Come now!
The Chairman {somewhat taken aback). Well, Friends, while I
conduct this chair, I can promise this man a puffickly fair ’earin’,
and I’m sure you will listen to him patiently, whatever you may
think of his arguments. {Cries of 'Ear—'ear! “Fair play hall
the world hover!" “We’ll listen to him quiet enough!") First
of all, I must he satisfied that our Friend is what he professes to he.
We want no Sham Workin’-men 'ere. [Brandishes a foot-rule in
evidence of the genuineness of his own claims.
A MODERN WAIST.
Jones {to himself, as he offers Miss Vane a cup of tea and some straw-
berries). “By Jove! she takes ’em—she’s going to Swallow
’em ! But where she ’ll put ’em—goodness knows ! ”
The D. M. Am I a Workin’-Man? Well, I’ve made ladies’ hoots
at sixpence a hour for three years—d’ ye. call that bein’ a Workin’-
Man ? I’ve soled and ’eeled while you wait in a stall near Southwark
Bridge seven year an’ a arf! Praps you ’ll call that a Workin’-Man ?
{Cries of “ Keep to the Point!”) Oh, I’ll keep to the point right
enough. There’s this Irishman here been a tellin’ of you ’ow wrong
it is to turn his countrymen out of their ’ouses when they don’t pay
their rent. Ain’t we turned out of our ’ouses, if we don’t pay ourn ?
’Oo snivels over hus ?
The I. P. No personalities now ! It’s my belief ye ’re a Landlord
yerself ! [ Uproar.
The D. M. I told yer ye wouldn’t ’ear me now!
A Socialist {in a stentorian voice). Feller Demmercrats, as an
ex-Fenian and an ex-Convict, I implore you—give this man a
hearin’ I
The D. M. Then about this Royal Grant. {Cries of “ Shut up!"
“ Go 'ome!" “Don't tork nonsense!") If you’re going to ’ave
a King and Queen at all—{Cries of “ We ain't ! Bourn with 'em ! ")
Ah, then I ’spose you’re going to put up fellers like ’im {pointing to
the Socialist), and ’im (pointing to Chairman), and ’im! [Uproar.
The Socialist. Fellow-Citizens, I appeal to you, give this man
rope—he ’s doing our work splendidly!
The D. M. Well, all I’ve got to say is- {Shouts of “ Get
down !" Yells and booing.) Oh, you won’t tire me out that way.
All I can say is, I’da precious sight rather-
The Chairman {excitedly).. Fellow citizens, we’ve listened to this
man long enough—these sentiments are an insult to the meeting !
[ Yells as before.
The Socialist {extending a billycock hat with a passionate gesture).
Feller Demmercrats, if you are earnest, if you are sincere in the
indignation, the just hindignation, this man provokes—show it
now, by putting money in this ’at for the Plan o’ Compaign !
[The storm lulls.
The B. M. {resuming) I arsk every honest man here whether-
Chairman {interposing). I think, as our friend here don’t seem able
to stick to his point, we won’t call upon him for any further remarks.
[The D. M. is hustled down, amidst derisive cheers and groans ; the
Socialist ascends the Platform.
71
VOCES POPULI.
FREE SPEECH.
Scene—An Open Space. Rain falling m torrents. An Indignation
Meeting is being held to protest against the Royal Grants. The
Chairman presides at a small portable reading-desk, generally
alluded to as “ The Nostrum ; " a ring of more or less Earnest
Radicals, under umbrellas, surround him. Speakers address the
Meeting in rapid succession ; a Man with a red flag gives it a
sinister wave at any particularly vigorous expression. Her
Gracious Majesty the Queen is repeatedly described as ‘ ‘ this
mis-rubble ole bein'," an Archbishop is invariably mentioned as
an “ Arch-rogue,” while the orators and the audience appear
from their remarks to be the only persons capable of worthily
guiding this unhappy Country's destinies. Policemen in couples
look on from a distance and smile indulgently.
An Orator {bitterly). The weather is against us, Feller Republi-
kins, there’s no denyin’ that. As we were tramping along ’ere,
through the mud and in the rain, wet to the skin, I couldn’t ’elp
remarking to a friend o’ mine, that if it had been a pidging-shootin’
match at Urlingham, or a Race-meeting at Haseot, things ’ud ha’
been diff’rent! Ther’d ha’ bin blue sky and sunshine enough then.
Well, I ’spose hany weather’s considered good enough for the likes
of hus! Hany weather ’ll do for pore downtrod slaves to assert
their man’ood and their hindependence in ! {Cries of “ Shame ! ")
Never you mind—hour turn ’ll come some day! We shan’t halways
be ’eld down, and muzzled, and silenced, and prevented uttering
the hindignation we ’ve a right to feel! {Bellowing.) We shall make
our vices ’eard one day! But I’m reminded by my friend as I’ve
got to keep to the pint. Well {he composes his features into a
sneer) I’m told as ’ow ’Er Most Gracious Madjesty—(“Booing"
from Earnest Radicals)—’Er Most Gracious Madjesty—as she calls
’erself—’as put by a little matter of a millun an’ a ’arf—since she
came to the Throne. Now, Feller Republikins, that millun an’ a
’arf ’as come out of your pockets !
Several Persons {ivho do not look as if they paid a heavy Income-
tax). ’Ear ’ear!
Orator. Yes, it belongs to the People—ah! and you’ve a legal right
to demand it hack—a legal right ! And I arsk you—if that millun
and a ’arf of money was to be divided among the Toilers of London
ter-morrow—’ow many Hunemployed should we see ? {Crowd deeply
impressed by this forcible argument.) Yet we ’re arst to put our
’ands in our pockits to support the Queen’s children!
A Gentleman with very short hair. Shame—never! [Puts his
hand in somebody else’s pocket by way of emphasising his declaration.
Orator. Feller Republikins, if a Queen don’t do the work as she’s
paid for doin’ of, what ought to be done with ’er ? I put it to you !
A Very Earnest Radical. The Scaffild !
[Looks round nervously to see if a Policeman is within hearing.
A Fat Lady {who has been ejaculating, “ Oh, it is a shime, it is! ”
at every fresh instance of Royal expenditure). Well, I must say
that’s rather strong langwidge !
Another Orator. Gentlemen, I regret to say that, on this monstrous
fraud and attempted imposition known as “The Royal Grants Bill,”
Mr. Gladstone voted with the Government. [Frantic applause.
Orator {puzzled). Yes, Gentlemen, I am here to state facts, and
I am ashamed to say, that on this single occasion Mr. Gladstone—
went wrong. [Shouts of “ No ! No ! ”
A Fervid Gladstonian {waving his umbrella). Three cheers for
Mr. Gladstone, what-Aeuer he does !
[The Crowd join in heartily : Orator decides to drop the point,
particularly as it does not seem to affect the Meeting's condem-
nation of the principle of the Bill.
An Irish Patriot. I’ve often harrd tell, Gintlemen, of a certain
stra-ange animal they carl a “Conservative Warkin-Man” {Roars
of laughter.) A Warkin-Man a Conservative! Why, bliss me
sowl, the thing’s absurd! There niver was such a purrson in this
Warid. A Conservative Warkin-Man! why—{takes refuge in pro-
fanity.) If there was, why don’t we iver hear ’um in an assimhly
of this sort F Why hasn’t he the common manly courage to come
forward and defind his opinions ? We 'd hear ’um, Gintlemen. It’s
the proud boast of Radicals and Republikins that they’d give free
speech and a fair hearin’ to ivery man, no matter hwhat his opinions
are, hut ye ’ll niver see ’um stip farward at ahl—and hwhy ?
A Decent Mechanic. Well look ’ere, mate, I’m a Conservative
Working-Man, if ye’d like to know, and I ain’t afraid to defend
my opinions. Come now!
The Chairman {somewhat taken aback). Well, Friends, while I
conduct this chair, I can promise this man a puffickly fair ’earin’,
and I’m sure you will listen to him patiently, whatever you may
think of his arguments. {Cries of 'Ear—'ear! “Fair play hall
the world hover!" “We’ll listen to him quiet enough!") First
of all, I must he satisfied that our Friend is what he professes to he.
We want no Sham Workin’-men 'ere. [Brandishes a foot-rule in
evidence of the genuineness of his own claims.
A MODERN WAIST.
Jones {to himself, as he offers Miss Vane a cup of tea and some straw-
berries). “By Jove! she takes ’em—she’s going to Swallow
’em ! But where she ’ll put ’em—goodness knows ! ”
The D. M. Am I a Workin’-Man? Well, I’ve made ladies’ hoots
at sixpence a hour for three years—d’ ye. call that bein’ a Workin’-
Man ? I’ve soled and ’eeled while you wait in a stall near Southwark
Bridge seven year an’ a arf! Praps you ’ll call that a Workin’-Man ?
{Cries of “ Keep to the Point!”) Oh, I’ll keep to the point right
enough. There’s this Irishman here been a tellin’ of you ’ow wrong
it is to turn his countrymen out of their ’ouses when they don’t pay
their rent. Ain’t we turned out of our ’ouses, if we don’t pay ourn ?
’Oo snivels over hus ?
The I. P. No personalities now ! It’s my belief ye ’re a Landlord
yerself ! [ Uproar.
The D. M. I told yer ye wouldn’t ’ear me now!
A Socialist {in a stentorian voice). Feller Demmercrats, as an
ex-Fenian and an ex-Convict, I implore you—give this man a
hearin’ I
The D. M. Then about this Royal Grant. {Cries of “ Shut up!"
“ Go 'ome!" “Don't tork nonsense!") If you’re going to ’ave
a King and Queen at all—{Cries of “ We ain't ! Bourn with 'em ! ")
Ah, then I ’spose you’re going to put up fellers like ’im {pointing to
the Socialist), and ’im (pointing to Chairman), and ’im! [Uproar.
The Socialist. Fellow-Citizens, I appeal to you, give this man
rope—he ’s doing our work splendidly!
The D. M. Well, all I’ve got to say is- {Shouts of “ Get
down !" Yells and booing.) Oh, you won’t tire me out that way.
All I can say is, I’da precious sight rather-
The Chairman {excitedly).. Fellow citizens, we’ve listened to this
man long enough—these sentiments are an insult to the meeting !
[ Yells as before.
The Socialist {extending a billycock hat with a passionate gesture).
Feller Demmercrats, if you are earnest, if you are sincere in the
indignation, the just hindignation, this man provokes—show it
now, by putting money in this ’at for the Plan o’ Compaign !
[The storm lulls.
The B. M. {resuming) I arsk every honest man here whether-
Chairman {interposing). I think, as our friend here don’t seem able
to stick to his point, we won’t call upon him for any further remarks.
[The D. M. is hustled down, amidst derisive cheers and groans ; the
Socialist ascends the Platform.