Punch: Punch (100.1891)

March 14, 1891.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 129

A WILD WELCOME.

February's reign of gloom

Out of mind and sight is,
Noonday darkness of the tomb,

Carbon and bronchitis.

Though the air is keen and chill,
Cloudy though the skies are,

Buoyant breaths our bosoms fill,
Free from smart our eyes are.

Bursting on the lengthening day
Bellows March the Yiking,

" I have blown the fogs away ;
Is this' to your liking ? "

Yes, thy voice o'er moor and mead

Sets the spirits bounding,
Like the Major's chartered steed

At the trumpet's sounding.

Welcome, roaring moon of dust,
Welcome, Spring's reviver;

On the race again we must
Risk the wonted fiver ;

Fields are showing brighter green,

Early buds are shooting ;
On the early youth is seen

The new season's suiting.

Lona: it is since sparrows shrill
With their chirping woke us ;

There is one with busy bill
Worrying a crocus.

How they love the flow'r of spring—

Never can resist it;
What a graceful little thing—

Bother, I have miss'd it 1

Now the wind along the plain
Comes with roar and clatter —

There, my hat is off again !
Let it go— no matter.

What am I, to say thee nay

In thy rudest phases ?
Blow my Sunday hat away,

Blow my hat to blazes.

'Tis but little we can do
For thy bounty's measure—

Sacrifice a hat or two ?
Forty hats, with pleasure.

KENSINCTON GARDENS SMALL TALK.

From the Railway Improvement Phrase-Book.

That Nursery-maid with the three children
and the perambulator will certainly get run
over by the train if she stands there gossiping
with the man in the signal-box.

That is the nineteenth horse that has run
away and thrown its rider this morning,
frightened by the smoke of the passing engine.

So it is not, after all, a tornado that has
swept across the Gardens, and rooted up all
these trees, but merely the firm that has taken
the contract for the making of the new line.

Yes, there is no doubt that this wooden
fence, stretching right across the Gardens,
relieved by overseers' moveable hatch-houses,
puffing steam-cranes, and processions of mud-
carts, rather interfere with the beauty and
tranquillity of the place, but one must really
bear in mind that it is, after all, only to last
for five years.

Ha! I thought so ! There go the whole of
the water-fowl under that luggage-train.

It is true, the Gardens are ruined, but one
must not forget the inestimable advantage
to the shareholders of the public being able to
get from Paddington to Chelsea in a tunnel
for twopence.

Query fob Next Election.—No man has
a vote until he has attained his majority. How
about some districts where they are nearly all
Miners ? '

MEN WHO HAVE TAKEN ME IN-
TO DINNER.

(By a Dinner-Belle.)
No. II.—Don Juan Senior.

To share with men the prandial gloom

Of union forced that fatal custom
Decrees to wither " youth and bloom,"

(The phrase is from Sohrab and Jtustum)
I've suffered boredom to the full;

Professors dull—of Hindostani!
Dull wits, dull statesmen, dandies' dull—

He wasn't dull—was Don Giovanni.

A widower feted far and wide,

The jauntiest Rake who drinks the_ waters,
Smartest of " smart" vulgarians, pride

And terror of his decent daughters ;
Old Don Giovanni, fraught with warm

Flirtations, free to fling his cash on
The dining Duchess, " mould of form ! "

Antique, good-looking " glass of fashion."

He gossiped how the Viscount bets

(Some heiress he must really "pick up "),
How noble dames smoke cigarettes

And noble heels in ballets kick up.
How " H.R.H. "-n 'importe ! my friend

Experience shows me that the laches
Of such as air these letters tend

In the direction of their " H "'s.

He chatted next of German Spas,

Of Continental, English "P.B.'s,"
And how our matchmaking Mammas

Are scared by Transatlantic Hebes,
How he with Royalties had graced

The latest function—genial patrons—
While Beauty, perched on barrows, raced

Before the virtuous British matrons.

And then his compliments began

To rain like drops of Frangipanni,
A most insinuating man

He was, this ancient Don Giovanni.
You felt, if you could half believe,

You 'd but to word a whim to find it,
You quite forgot he owned a sleeve,

And several teeth to laugh behind it.

There may be kindness, lofty souls,

Great Brains, andwhatso ne'er grows older,
Him the Material controls :

He shrugs a sleek, good-natured shoulder.
Time scatters dalliance, joy, and joke ;

Your choicest vintage passes ; e'en your
Supreme tobacco ends in smoke—

And so will poor Don Juan, Senior.

Mas. Malaprop is much puzzled at the
announcement that it is proposed to con-
struct a new Tubercular Railway between
England and France.

SONGS BY A CYNIC.

Love.

What 's Love, and all that Love can bring,

Youth's earliest illusion :
What tender words she used to sing,

And blush with sweet confusion.
How you would hang upon each word,

When under spells of Cupid ;
When half she said was most absurd,

And all extremely stupid.

You loved her for her hair of gold,

Unwitting that she dyed it;
She vowed her love could ne'er grow cold,

Though Time had never tried it.
Your worship came to such a pass,

That, when you calmly view it,
You feel you were an utter ass,

Though then you never knew it.

What happened ? Why, the usual thing :

While round her you would linger,
Her love was fragile as the ring

You bought to grace her finger.
She went off with another man,

And so you had to sever :
Thus women since the world began

Have done, and will do ever.

REYELATIONS OF A REVELLER.

I revelled at the Albert Hall, which last
week was given up to a festival called " The
Coming Hace." I was there at the open-
ing on Thursday, the 5 th, when Princess
Beatrice, attended by her husband, Prince
Henry of Battenberg, declared the Bazaar
open. A gay and festive scene. Here, there,
and everywhere, Egyptian houses made of
cardboard, containing stalls full of the most
useful articles imaginable. On the dais, a
number of sweet-faced ladies presenting
purses (containing £3 3s. and upwards) to the
Princess, who received them with an affa-
bility which won the hearts of all beholders.
On the floor of the building was a gaily-
dressed throng, which included many a dis-
tinguished person. The revelry continued for
three days, and was, I trust, the means of
obtaining funds for a charity which, no
doubt, is most deserving of support. And
here, I may say, I revelled so much"at the
Albert Hall, that I had no desire to revel
anywhere else.

FETE OR FATE P
Or, Hoppers in Covent Garden, March 4th.
(By Mr. Bunch's Own Impressionist.)

Lights and bouquets—flush and flare—
Motley medley—splash affair-
Deft disguises—flute and fife—
Half the world without his wife—
Dominos, and masks, and faces—
Graces three—and three Disgraces.
Jacks-in-boxes—tambour -maj ors—
Janes in office—ancient stagers—
Reynolds' Duchess— Shepherdesses ;
(Burlington) Arcadian tresses—
Primrose damsels,—clowns and follies,—■
Organ-grinders—Flemish.dollies—
Macaronis, rather muddy,
Of the central stud a study—
England's mashers, Afric's dark sons—
Nathan's stock-in-trade and Clareson's—
All costumes not apt the back to,
Some of them inclined to crack too—
Martyred revellers in upper
Rooms, and singing for their supper.
Bright confusion—many a mad hunt—
Five o'clock—and wish I hadnH.

Something Marvellous ln the Nine-
teenth Century.—Revival of Charles the
First! ! ! (at the Lyceum).