Punch (102.1892)

PUNCH, OE THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [January 2, 1892.

THE CHIMES.

(Fragments of a Dickensian Dream Up to Date.)

It was some time before the great-little old fellow could
compose himself to mend the fire, and draw his chair to
the warm hearth. But, when he had done so, and had
trimmed his lamp, he took his "Extra Special" from his
pocket, and began to read—carelessly at first, and skim-
ming up and down the columns, but with an earnest and
sad attention very soon.

For this same dreadful paper re-directed Punch's
thoughts into the channel they had taken all that day;
thoughts of the sufferings of the poor, the follies of the
rich, the sins of the wicked, the miseries of the outcast.
Seasonable thoughts, if not exactly festive. For all is
not festive, even at the Festive Season.

^Scandals in high life, starvation in low life; foul
floods of nastiness in Law Courts; muddy tricklings of
misery in lawless alleys; crimes so terrible and revolting;
pains so pitiless and cureless ; follies so selfish and
wanton, that he let the journal drop, and fell back in his
chair, appalled.

"Unnatural and cruel, Toby!" he cried. "Unna-

^^^^ tural and cruel!_ None but people who were born bad at

l>lll^'lHllW '/I'lll "HlUV v' heart—born bad-who had no business on the earth,

could do such deeds. We 're Bad ! "
The Chimes took up the words so suddenly—burst out