Punch: Punch (101.1891)

November 21, 1891.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 243

"What, what has that old song to do
With the little matter 'twixt me and you,?

I apologise for the irrelevance, for

I am such a logical Chancellor !

If you step inside—as I trust you will—
We shall worm out the Truth with forensic
skill;

And if vou decline—as I hope you won't—
We shall know there are reasons, friend, why

you don't.
So the Truth must benefit any way,
My beloved Bill. What is "that you say ?
You don't care a cuss for the Truth? Oh,

fie!

Truth makes one a free man. Step in and
try !

The triumph of Truth is a triumph for
A highly inquisitive Chancellor !

'Twill be most instructive to Judge and Jury
To hear you give evidence. Why this fury ?
We can judge, you see, by the way he '11
behave,

'Twixt a simpleton and a clever knave.
The Times says so. Eh! Confound the
Times f

Oh, don't say so, Bill ! A man of crimes
Might funk the ordeal; but this is the plan
To help the Law—and the Honest Man;
And therefore the plan of all plans for
A highly compassionate Chancellor !

ROBERT ON THE LORD MARE'S SHO.

Well, I've had the grate good luck to
have seen praps as menny Lord Mare's Shos
as most peeple, praps more—not so menny, in
course, as that werry old but slitely hex-
adgerating Lady, as bowsted as she had
seen hunderds on 'em—but for sum things,
speshally for Rain, and mud, and slush, the
last one beats 'em all holler! What poor
little Whales could have done to put the
Clark of the Whether into sitch a temper,
in course I don't know, but if he'd have had
a good rattling attack of the gout in both
big Tos, like some past Lord Mares as we has
most on us heard on, he coudn't posserbly
have bin in a wuss one.

Praps them as most xcited my reel pitty
was the Loed Mare's six genelmen in their
luvly new State liverries, and their bewtifool
pink silk stockings a showing of their manly
carves, all splashing along through the horf ul
mud, and made crewel fun of by the damp
and thortless crowd. The fust reel staggerer
was the reel Firemen, about a thowsand on
'em, a marching along as bold as their brass
Helmets. What did they care for the rain
and the mud ! and didn't they look as it they
was a longing for a jolly grand Fire to bust
out, jest to show us how easy it was to put it
out, tho' they had lost their jolly Captin.
Then there was the pretty Welch Milk Maids,
in their chimbley-pot Hats, and their funny-
looking custooms, all a being drawn by six
horses, and having some Bards and Arpers to
take care on 'em, and lend 'em humberrellars
to keep off the rain. Ah! won't they have
sum nice little stories to tell all their frends
when they gits back to Whales, inclewding
their singing of wun of their hold Welch
songs afore the Lord Maee and all his nobel
gests in the evening. No wonder that they
was so estonished and bewillderd that they
quite forgot to take off their chimbley-pot
Hats wile they was a singing. But their
Lord Maee and countryman kindly forgave
'em all, and away they went rejoysing.

Upon the hole, I'm quite reddy to bear my
testimoney to the fack that, if we coud by
any posserbility have left out the horful
rain, and the mud, and the pore soaked and
dismal-looking mothers and children, it woud
have been about the werry finest looking Sho

A STAGGERER

Hector's Wife [instructing an Aspiring Buttons, who has answered her advertisement). " You'll

have to open the shutters and the hall-DOOR, SEE to the study FlRE, put the

things ready in the bath-room, then call your master punctually at slx, clean
his Boots and brush his Clothes, clean all the Children's Boots and Shoes, and
brush their clothes, lay the breakfast punctually at elght, after which you 'll

have to get the pony and trap ready to drive the children to school, and be

back in good time. after you 've dressed the pony and cleaned your knives and

Silver, you will make yourself Tidy, and then you'll lay the Lunch-"

Aspiring Buttons (gasping). "Please, 'm— beg pard'n—place won't do for me. Why,
I should want a New Suit o' Clothes before you 've finished telling me what I've
got to do, and then I shouldn't find time to be Measured for 'em! Good morn'n."

[Exit Aspirant.

ewer seen. The Bankwet at nite was jest as good as ushal, and indeed rayther better, and
just to sho how thuroly eweryboddy had recovered from his morning's drenshing, the
compnv acshally larf'ed at the Lord Chancellor's Speach, and cheered the Lord Maee
to the Hekko! Robert.

Rather Yagtje.—Sir Edward Bradford, Commissioner of Police, informs the Public,
through a paragraph in the Times, about a meeting at the Marylebone Yestry, that, when-
ever in the Metropolis a street is found to be dangerously slippery, some one (probably a
policeman') is to telegraph to the "local authority" (who? what? which? where?) and
inform him, her, them, or it (whatever represents the aforesaid "local authority"), of
the fact. WeU, and what then? Who's to do what, and when is it to be done? And
what is the penalty for not doing whatever it is ?

Shortly to Appear.—Amiable Almonds, by the Authoress of Cross Currents. To
be followed by Pum Paisins, Delightful Bates, and Polly Peach. Also, Bolt Care What
Apples to Me ! being the Story of " A Mai wil a Cold id is Ed."

Bigoted.—An Anti-Ritualistic old Lady objected to paying her water-rate, when she
was informed that she would be jjatronising " a High Service."

Memorandum for Minor Poets.—It is an elegant thing to write ballades and rondeaux,
but it is tyrannous to read them to your visitors.