Punch (102.1892)

242

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[May 21, 1892.

AWEARY! AWEARY!"

(1 T— v| I ■

il/tss Certainctge (ivho has been studying Schopenhauer, and has come to the conclusion that there is nothing hut sorrow in life, sadly). " Ah,
Major, I'm sure I shall die young !" Ethel. "Oh no, Aunt dear, I'm certain you avon't I"

THE GENEBAL'S LITTLE EUND.

(See " Times;' May 11.)

Oh where, oh where is my little wee fund ?

Oh where, oh where can it be ? [long ;
"With the pence cut short and the pounds cut

Oh where, oh where can it be i

I want to stump through Switzerland ;

On the 24th proximo.
To Germany, Sweden, Norway, and

To Denmark I want to go ;
I've held out my hat to every flat,

And begged over land and sea,
Humanity dunned, but I have no fund-

Oh where, oh where can it be ?

If ever you see a stray bawbee

And how our young and eager eyes
Were kept from childhood's easy slumbers

By the awakening ecstasies
Of cheery coloured Christmas Numbers.

We loved great Gilbert, Glorious John !—
Sir John to-day, good knight, iine painter !
Our eyes dwelt lingerinsdy upon

His work, by which all else showed fainter.
His dashing pencil "go" could give

Whenever, wherever you roam, j To simplest scene ; a wondrous gift 'tis!

Oh, tell him the woe that troubles me so, : How his bold line could make things live

And say that it keeps me at home. In those far Forties and old Fifties !

I may mention that what you do, like a shot

Must be done to be useful to me ;
At once send a cheque to save us from wreck,
Or the Army will go to the D !

I've travelled about with my little wee fund-
It used to pay for me;

But now it 'b gone I 'm lorn and lone;
Oh where, oh where can it be ?

ME. PUNCH

to

THE ILLUSTRATED LONDON NEWS.

On the happy occasion of the Jubilee of that
excellent Journal, May 14, 1892,

From Forty-Two to Ninety-Two!

A full half-century of story !
And now, our Century's end in view.

May's back once more in vernal glory,
And with it brings your Jubilee,

(Punch came to his one year before you!)
" Many Returns," Ma'am, may you see,

And honoured be the hour that bore you !

Good faith! it scarcely seems so long
To us old boys, who can remember

The tale, the picture, and the song
We pored o er by the wintry ember ;

And humorous " Phiz " and spectral Read,

Made us alternate smile and shiver.
Ah ! ghosts, Ma'am, then were ghosts indeed,

Born of the brain and not the liver.
You shared our Lemon and our Leech ;

Our Brooks for you ran bright and sunny.
May you live long, to limn and teach.
Be graphic, genial, sage, and funny!

We like you well, we owe you much,

True record, blent with critic strictures,
And culture of the artist touch

Through half a century of pictures.
We wish you many gay returns [plumper

Of this May day! You 're brighter,
Than then ; and Punch, who envy spurns,

Drinks your Good Health, Ma'am, in a
bumper !

" Orme ! Sweet Orme ! "— Or me is still
off solid food, and is kept alive entirely by
Porter. It is the opinion of the best informed
that " Porter with a head on " will pull him
through. Smoking is not permitted in the
stable, but there is evidence of there being
several " strong backers" about.