Punch: Punch (101.1891)

September 26, 1891.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

155

OUR REAL DESIDERATUM.

(By a" JFell-infonned" Fool.)

Ah ! I was fogged by the Materialistic,

By Huxley and by Zola, Koch and
Mooee ; [Mystic,
And now there comes a Maelstrom of the

To "whirl me further yet from sense's shore.
Microbes were much too much for me, bacilli

Bewildered me, and phagocytes did daze,
But now the author 'cute of " Piccadilly,"

Harris the Prophet, the Blayatsky craze,
Thibet. Theosophy, and Bounding Brothers—

No, Mystic Ones—Mahatmas I should say,
But really they seem so much like the others

In slippery agility !—day by day
Mystify me yet more. Those germs were bad
enough, [Bodies ?

But what are they compared with Astral
Of Useless Knowledge I haYe almost had

I really envy uninquiring noddies, [enough,
I would not be a Chela if I could.

I haYe a horror of the Esoterical.
Besant and Olcott may be wise and good,

They seem to me pursuing the chimerical.
Maddened by mysteries of " Precipitation,"

The Occult Dream and the Bacillus-Dance ;
We need Societies for the propagation

Of Useful—Ignorance !

Dwarfs in and about London.

Sir,— We need not go so far afield as Messrs.
Haliburton & Co. in search of dwarfs. In
the suburbs of London, and eYen in the more
densely-populated districts of this Yast Metro-
polis, there are numbers of people who are un-
commonly short. About quarter-day these
extraordinary individuals may be heard of,
but are rarely seen; which fact, howeYer,
affords no proof of their non-existence.

Yours, Taxos Gatheros.

Latest Publication' (of the Political
Natural History Series). — Curious De-
velopment of French Froggies into Toadies

11

WHEN A MAN DOES NOT LOOK HIS BEST."-No.

"When he magnanimously consents to go on the Platform at a Conjuring Per-

of Russia. formance, and unwonted Objects are produced from his Inside Pockets.

TO THE GRAND OLD CRICKETER.

Dear Dr. Grace, the season through

You 've struggled on, and striven gamely ;
Your leg, for all you've tried to do,

Has made your record come out lamely ;
Your county suffers, too, with you ;

Your failures very dear have cost her.
But better luck in 'ninety-two

To you, old friend, and good old Gloucester!

THE MODERN CAGLIOSTRO ; OR, THE POWER OF THE SPIRITS.

(A Page from a Romance up to Date.)

And so Peter, learning that the veteran Alchymist was to be seen
on the presentation of a small coin of the realm, approached the old
man's residence. He had heard that the Sage had discovered the
secret of immortality—barring accidents, he would live for ever.

" Now that Josephine is true to me," he murmured, "I have no
objection to a further century of existence, or even two."

_ And he continued his walk. He had never seen so many taverns in
his life. On every side of him were distilleries, public-houses, and keep your health you must—hie—always—be—in—in—intoxicavated

nPPr-c: n nrtc Ho m a -pvdI 1 ncl +Viof a -man rvf cn m a n t" en m move cVinnlrl "\t______j.____i_i* T______ Hf____i-l—±„ «,-."Ul i n a,n r-^n -rr/^-n A m* ?>

"Never heard of Josephine. Josephine's bore—swindle! Old
Josephine's jolly humbug! "

" Well, let that pass," said Peter, "lam here to ask you why
you have lived so long. You are one hundred and twenty-seven
years old, I think, and vet you are still alive."

" Why, certainly. But you know all about it. Secret no longer.
Dr. Mortimer Granville has told the Times how it's done. Con-
sider it great shame. Takes the bread, so t' speak, out of one's
mouth." Here the Sage gave a lurch and seated himself acciden-
tally on a stuffed alligator. Seeing that his host was about to indulge
in an untimely nap, Peter thought the moment had arrived to urge
him to reveal his wonderful secret. " I implore you to tell me how
you have managed to live for so many years when all your contem-
poraries are gone."

" Well, sure I don't mind," was the reply. " Won't hurt me—
may do you good. Want to know how it's managed ? "
" That I do, indeed," was the earnest answer.
"Why reason I've lived for more than century and quarter is
this ! I've never been—mind, never been during all that time—see
—during all that time—never been sober ! "
Peter was astounded.

" Why, Sir Wilfrid Lawson says-" he began.

"Never mind what Sir Wilf-Lawson says. I say if you want,

beer-shops. He marvelled that a man of so many summers should | vow g0 to public-house. My patients in public-houses yonder,
have chosen such a bibulous spot for his home. And, urged by a sense of duty, Peter withdrew ; and, joining the

He must be exceedingly eccentric," he thought to himself; ; Sage's cures, found them in various stages of renewed health and
however, that is nothing to me. If he can teach me how to live j increased intoxication,
continuously, this bag of gold, now mine, shaU change masters."

The small coin of the realm was presented, and Peter stood face
to face with the Sage of the Ages.

"What do you want?" asked the ancient Alchymist, with a
glistening eye. "What d'ye want with an old man—a very old
man ? " And the Sage wept.

" I meant not this," remonstrated Peter, greatly distressed at the
incident. '' I came here merely to crave your aid. I wish to live
now, for Josephine is true to me."

" Who's Josephine ? " asked the Sage, in the same thick voice.

The Bitter Cry of the British Bookmaker.

(After a famous Original.)

'Tis a very good land that we live in
To lend, or to lose, or to give in ;
But to sell—at a proht—or keep a man's own,
'Tis the very worst country that ever was known.
Men give cash for their wines, wives, weeds, churches and cooks,
But your genuine Briton won't pay for his—Books !