Punch: Punch (100.1891)

April 25, 1891.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

201

FOR BETTER OR WORSE !

(Two Views of the Same Subject.)

Possible Romance.

Scene—A Dungeon beneath the Castle Moat. Wife
chained to a post, with bread and water beside her.
J3nter Husband, with cat-o'-nine-tails.

Husband. And now, after ten days' seclusion, will yon
make over your entire property to me, signing the deed
with your life's blood ?

Wife {in a feeble voice). Never! You may kill me,
hut I will defy you to the last 1
Husband. Then die !

[He is about to leave the dungeon, when he is met
by a Messenger from the Court of Appeal.
Messenger. In the name of the Law, release your
prisoner I

Husband. Foiled I

\Joy of Wife, and tableau, as the Curtain falls.

Probable Reality.

Scene—The Church-door of a fashionable Church.
Wife bidding adieu to Husband.

Husband. Surely, now that my name and fortune are
yours, you will reconsider your decision, and at least
accompany me hack to our wedding breakfast ?

Wife {in a firm voice). Never! You may kill me, but
I will defy you to the last!

Husband. This is rank nonsense ! You must take my
arm.

\_He is about to leave the Church-porch, when he is
met by a Messenger from the Court of Appeal.
Messenger. In the name of the Law, release your
prisoner!

Husband. Sold! [.Joy of Wife, and tableau, as the

Curtain falls.

in a name?"

The " Cony" is feeble, the Bear's a rough bore,
But Cony be are's both, and perhaps a bit more!

Smart New Boy in Cloak-Room has noted Gentlemen shutting up their
Crush Hats, and promptly flattens De Jones s Best Silk Topper I

THE OTHER MAN.

My health is good, I know no pain,

I am not married to a wife ;
From all accounts I'm fairly sane,

And yet I'm sick to death of life.

The path that leads
to wealth and
fame
Cannot be traversed
in a day;
I find it twice as hard
a game,
Because a spectre
bars the way.

It has no terrors such
as his
Away from which
the children ran;
It's not the Bogey, but it is

The Other Man.

I met a girl, she seemed to be

A kind of vision from above.
She wasn't—but, alas ! for me,

I weakly went and fell in love.

Her father was a millionnaire,

Which didn't make me love her less.

I thought her quite beyond compare,

And gave long odds she'danswer "Yes."

She thrilled me with each lovely look
She gave me from behind her fan,

She took my heart, and then she took—
The Other Man.

Farewell to Love ! I thought I'd try
My level best to get a post;

The salary was not too high,
Two hundred pounds a-year at most.

Committeemen in conclave sat,
Their questions all were cut and dried :

Oh, was I this ? And did I that ?
And twenty thousand things beside—

As did I smoke ? and could I play
At golf ? or did I get the gout ?

And—most important—could I say
My mother knew that I was out ?

Then two were chosen. Should I " do " ?

Perhaps!—and, just as I began
To hope, of course they gave it to
The Other Man.

All uselessly I've learnt to swear
And use expressions that are vile ;

In vain, in vain I've torn my hair
In quite the most artistic style.

Yet one thing would I gladly learn—

Yes, tell me quickly, if you can-
Shall I be also, in my turn,

The Other Man ?

THE KEY TO A LOCK.

["A lock of -'s hair, set in a small gold-
rimmed case, and said to be an ancient family
possession, -was knocked down for forty pounds."]

Take yonder lock of tangled hair,

A silver seamed with sable,
Dim harbinger from dreamland fair

Of reverie and fable ;

Yes, grandson mine, the treasure take,

A trinket loved, if little,
And wear it, darling, for my sake,

In yonder locket brittle ;

Small, as my banker's balance, small
And faint—a touching token ;

My luck, the lock, the locket, all
Seem, child, a trifle broken.

Investments, boy, are looking glum ;
They flit and fade ; in fine a

Not inconsiderable sum
Has gone to—Argentina.

Nay, chide me not; one day, refilled
By these, may shine your pocket,

And Fortune's resurrection gild
The lock within the locket.

Because, you see, when strong and sage

You grow, and all the serried
Lights of the great Yictorian age

With me are quenched and buried ;

When other men in other days
Walk paramount—then shall you

Submit the thing to such as praise
The Past, its relics value.

The curl was worn, you'll tell your friends,

By Tennyson or Browning
(The detail of the name depends

On who is worth renowning).

You '11 vaunt that one who knew the grand

Victorian Stars, and rather
Deserved himself to join the band

(In fact your father's father),

Who, past expression, loved whate'er

The market cottons then to,
Committed to your childish care

This genuine memento.

You '11 catalogue it, as befalls
Your choice, my little gran'son ;

You '11 bear it to the deathless halls
Of Christie, Woods, and Manson.

So, when the fateful hammer sounds,

And you have cashed in rhino
A cheque for, haply, forty pounds,

You '11 bless your grandsire, I know ;

Who, while his fortunes failed, and muoh

Was life's horizon o'ercast,
Created souvenirs with such

A keen, commercial forecast.