Punch (99.1890)

August 23, 1890.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 93

TO CANADA.

" We beseech, your Majesty to accept our assur-
ances of the contentment of your Majesty's Cana-
dian aubjects with the political connection between
Canada and the rest of the British Empire, and of
their fixed resolve to aid in maintaining the same."
—Loyal Address to the Queen from Canada.

Accepi them ? Punch believes you, boys,

And store them 'midst our choicest trea-
In these fierce dajrs of factious noise [sures!

The Sage experiences few pleasures
So genuine as this outburst frank

Of " true Canadian opinion."
He hastens heartily to thank

The loyal hearts of the Dominion!
Mother and daughter should be tied

By trustful faith and free affection.
If ours be mutual love and pride,

Who's going to " sever the connection " ?
Let plotters scheme, and pedants prate,

They will not pick our true love's true lock
Whilst truth and justice arm the State

With friends like Amyot and Muloch !

Mother and daughter! Love-linked like

Persephone and fond Demeter.
Fleet to advance, and strong to strike,

And yearly growing stronger, fleeter,
Miss Canada need not depend

On Dame Bmtannia altogether,
But she may trust her as a friend,

Faithful in fair or threatening weather.

Your hand, Miss, with your heart in it,

You to the Mother Country proffer.
Beshrew the cynic would-be wit,

Who coldly chuckles at the offer !
Bbitannia takes it, with a grip

That on the sword, at need, can clench too,
She will not that warm grasp let slip, [too!

Health, boys of British blood,— and French

A NATIONAL APPEAL.

Deas Mb. Punch,—Cannot you do some-
thing to help us, and save us from a permanent
consignment to that wretched hole-in-a-corner
back street site thrust upon us at the rear of the
National Gallery ? We do not know how far
matters may have gone, but somebody wrote
the other day to The Times to protest against
the job, and we conclude, therefore, it may
not yet, perhaps, be too late to agitate for a
stay of execution. We are not difficult to
please, and would be contented with a modest
but suitable home in any convenient lo-
cality. That such can be found when really
sought for, witness the happy facility with
which a fitting residence has been discovered
in the east and west galleries surrounding the
Imperial Institute for the promised new Na-
tional Collection. At South Kensington we had
a narrow escape of a conflagration, from too
close a proximity to the kitchen of a shillingre-
staurant. At Bethnal Green we have been
having a prolonged merry time of it, with
damp walls behind us and leaking roofs
above our heads. At one time we were packed
away in dusty obscurity, in the cupboards of a
temporary Government office ; and looking
back on the past, fruitful as it is in recollec-
tions of official slights and snubs, you may
gather that we can have no very ambitious
designs for the future. We do, however,
protest against being tacked on as a sort of
outside back-stair appendage to the National
Gallery, that will soon want the space we
shall be forced to occupy for its own natural
and legitimate expansion. Suggest a site
for us—anywhere else. There is still room
on the Embankment. Kensington Palace—
is still in the market. Why not be welcome
there ? As representative for all of us, I
subscribe my name hereunder, and remain
Your obedient servant,
Joshua Reynolds (late P.B..A.)

MR: JOSKINS BUYS A BOOK ON HOUSEBREAKING, AND TRIES HIS HAND.

1. The first thing is to teach the Colt to Lead. 2. Next put on the Bridle, and drive him quietly.

3. After this you may get on his Back. 4. Eide him gently at first, and avoid using the "Whip.

5. Make the Pupil understand, firmly but quietly, 6. Then, after a few Lessons, you will have broken
that you are his Master. the Colt (or he will have broken you).

THE LESSON OP THE SEASON.

The Season's over; for relief
You 're off to scale the Alps;

Say, do you,
like some
Indian
Chief,
Look back
and count
your
scalps ?
Does someone
rue your
broken
vows,

And sigh
he has to
doubt
you;

Yet felt withal the week at Cowes
Was quite a blank without you ?

Are hearts still broken, as of old,

In this prosaic time,
When love is only given for gold,

And poverty's a crime.
Say, are you conscious of a heart,
And can you feel it beating;

And is it ever sad to part,
And finds a joy in meeting ?

The Seasons come, the Seasons go,

With store of good and ill;
Do all men find you cold as snow,

And unresponsive still ?
0 beautiful enigma, say,

Will love's sublime persistence
Solve for you, in the usual way,

The riddle of existence ?

Alas! love is not love to-day,

But just a bargain made,
In cold and calculating way;

And if the price be paid,
A man may win the fairest face,

A maiden tall and queenly,
The daughter of some ancient raoe,

Who sells herself serenely.

What wonder that the cynic sneers

At suoh a rule of life;
That, after but a few short years,

Dissension should be rife.
Ah! Lady, you'll avoid heart-ache,

And scorn of bard satiric,
If haply you should deign to take

A lesson from our lyric.