Punch (99.1890)

THE DEMON ALPS.

{Our Artist's Dream, after reading the numerous Accidents to Mountain-climbers.)

ODE TO OZONE.

(By a Poor Paterfamilias.)

" Loudon is a terrible consumer of ozone "

Standard.

Air—" The Dutchman's Little Dog."
0 whebe and 0 where,ia our treasured Ozone?
,., 0 where, and 0 where can it be?
-crom London to leeward 'tis utterly gone,
To windward but little floats free.

Since Sohonbein of Basle discovered the stuff,
T„ We Ve lived half a cen-tu-ree.
of it we only could swallow enough,
How healthy, how happy were we!

Condensed form of oxygen, essence of air

That's fresh, or electrieitee,
Uz,oae is the stuff shaken health to repair,
lis for it we all fly to the sea

Solidified Ozone they talk about now,

To be bought in small bricks like pressed
rp, tea.

j. he air that is cheering when breathed on
one's brow
In cubic foot-blocks would bring glee.

How pleasant to buy one's Ozone, like one's

And store it up an-nu-al-lee!

not fly for it to some dull cockney hoi
Just because it is dug by the Sea!

yes, let us have it, this needful Qzone,

•w in portable parcels! Ah me I
A.??Pr neec* Paterfamilias groan
At the cost of that month by the Sea!

Shakspeakiait Motto foe the New
^JKIOnissi.—(Dedicated to the Artisan left
*ZLln the c°W-)-"In the ambush of my

ame< strike home I"—Measure for Measure.

TO MY UMBRELLA.

'Tweke hard indeed to try to get _

A theme without some poem on it—
A vilanelle, a triolet,

An ode, an epic, or a sonnet.
Castaea's charms were sung of old,

Both Swift and Sidney wrote to Stella,
Bat mine it is to

first unfold
The praise of my

beloved Umbrella.

You are not difficult
to please,

Although no doubt
a trifle "knobby;"
W liilst I'm reclining
at mine ease,
I leave you standing
in the lobby.
I ever treat you thus,
and yet

I haven't got a friend
who's firmer;
In point of fact, you even let
Me shut you up without a murmur.

Now some seek solace sweet in smoke,

And make a pipe their Amaeyllis ;
So think not that I do but joke

In calling you my darling Phyllis.
And though the gossips never spare

For ill-report to seek a handle,
The (indiarubber) ring you wear

Prevents the very thought of scandal.

"Fair weather, friend," we've often heard
Used as a term to throw discredit.

But when the Forecast tells me " Fair,"
Or "Settled Sunshine," then I take you.

I like to think of one sweet day

"When cats and dogs it kept on raining,
(Why " cats and dogs," it's right to say,

Who will oblige me by explaining ?)
"When someone, who had golden hair,

And I were walking out together,
And underneath your sheltering care,

"Were happy spite of wind and weather.

One day I asked a friend to dine,

The friend I most completely trusted.
"We sat and chatted o'er the wine,

He liked the port—my fine old crusted.
A t length we said " Good-night." He went

But not alone. For to my sorrow
My mind with jealousy was rent,

To find you missing on the morrow.

You had eloped! Yet all the same

I felt quite sure you were his victim,
When back a sorry wreck you came,

I very nearly went and kicked him!
Did. Love take wings, and fly away ?

Grew my affection less ? No, never!
To tell the truth, I'm bound to say

I fondly loved you more than ever!

With him—the man who was my friend—

It's pretty clear you got on badly;
Your ribs, somehow, seem prone to bend,

Your silken dress seems wearing sadly.
It's very hard, I know, to part,

And sentimental feelings smother,
But even though it break my heart,

I'm going, next week, to get another.

Though clearly it were quite absurd Epitaph on a Plate of Veniisot («

If speaking of yourself one said it. suggestion at the service of those «^ w«ee*

When skies Ire blue (a thing that's rare) menu cards).-11 Though lost to sigM, TO

I in the coolest way forsake you, memory deer I