Punch (102.1892)

July 2, 1892 ] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

SCENE—A snug riverside nook hard by a weir. Mr. Piscator Punch discovered enjoying the Contemplative Mail's Recrea-
tion in a solitude a deux (with Tobtas). To him enter, from opposite sides, two furtive, mysterious, and apparently
disguised personages, each bearing rod and line, but looking little to the piscatorial manner born.

First Angler (catching sight of second, aside, with acerbity). Tut! tut! lie here ! Hoped he wag at Hawarden !
Second Angler (catching sight of first, aside, peevishly). Confound him ! what does he want? Had an idea he was at
natfield !

Mr. Punch (catching sight of both, aside, merrily). Aha ! here they are. Can't leave me alone. Fancy I do not

recognise them, perhaps, in that ill-fitting Izaak-Waltonish disguise. (Sings.)

For Whigs are full of flattery,
And Tories full of pride ;
Heigh trolollie lollie loe !
Both fish for Votes, I fish for perch,

All by the river's side.
/'m sure of unopposed return.
My countrymen know Me !
Heigh trollie lollie loe I

First Angler (aside). Hanged if he does not twig!
Second Angler (aside). Verily he seemeth to smell a rat!

Mr. Punch (aloud). Hail, Brothers of the Angle ! Good-morrow to you both, and a pleasant pitch—at courteous
angler's correct distance. Whither away, Gentlemen ? And are you perchance beknown one to the other ?

First Angler (embarrassed). Well, Mr. Pu—Piscator, we are not of a party on this occasion ; yet meseems I have
seen our friend in the voluminous collars somewhere ere now.

Second Angler (awkwardly). And I, on my part, seem to recognise that burly form, that bushy beard-

Mr. Punch (laughing). Oh, turn it up, my noble swells ! I know you, as you know each other—and Me! You
have both of you tracked me down to my rural retirement, with an eye, respectively, to " tips." This fortuitous concourse
displeaseth you much, but you must make the best of it. Perpend, sham Piscators. What d'ye lack ? What, in short, is
your little game, Gentlemen ?

First and Second Anglers (together). Well, you see, Sir, the Gen-■ [They both pause.

Mr. Punch (gravely). I perceive. In view of the imminent General Election, each of you thought he would like a
quiet hour alone with Mr. Punch, with an eye to " pumping " him—each in the interest of his Party. A miscalculation,
Gentlemen! Mr. Punch hath no Party—save Mankind ; no Leader—-but himself! However, don't look so uncomfortable,
the pair of you, but sit down sociably, help yourselves to the shandy-gaff, and have a chat. Let " peace, and patience, and a
calm content cohabit in your cheerful hearts " (as they did in Sir Henry Wotton's), while—as he did—we " sit quietly in a