Punch (102.1892)

262

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[May 28, 1892.

FROM THE SHADES.

(At the Sign of the " Castor
and Pollux.")

Dear Mister Punch,—
Look at 'ere ! This is not
one of your penny papers—
there was none on 'em in my
time—ups and says, says it:
—"The travelling: expenses
from America of Mr. Jack-
son, who is coming to Eng-
land to fight Mr. Slavin for
the Championship of the
"World, are reckoned at no
less than £150." >

Wy, wot a delikit plarnt,
wot a blooming hexotic, this
"Mister" Jackson (oh, the
pooty perliteness of it!) must
be! Saloon passage and fust-
class fare, f persoom, for the
likes of 'im. Isters and
champagne, no doubt, and
liquoor brandy, and six-
penny smokes ! A poor old
pug like me wos glad of a
steak and inguns, and a 'arf
ounce o' shag, with a penny
clay. And as to " travelling
hexpenses"—I wonder wot
the Noble Captings of our
day would 'ave said to the
accounts laid afore your
"National Sporting Club ! "
£2000 for the Purse, and
£150 for Mister Jackson's
travelling hexpenses! ! I Oh,
I'sav ! Pugs is a-looking up!
And yet I'm told some o'
your cockered-up fly-flappers
carnt 'it a 'ole in a pound
o' butter, or stand a straight
nose-ender without turning
faint! _ Evidently funking
and faking pays a jolly sight
better than 'onesty and 'ard
'itting.

Well, well, Mister Punch,
I'm hout of it now, thanksbe. And I ain't
sure as I could shape myself 'andy to the
Slugger Sullivan and Jem Smith kind o'
caper. The "resources o' science" is so re-
markable different from what they wos in
my days, and include so many new-fangled
barnies as we worn't hup to. These 'ere
pugilistic horchids, so to speak, wants deliket
'andling in the Ring, as well as hout on it,
and a fair 'ammering from a 'onest bunch o'
fives might spile the pooty look of 'em for
their fust-elarss Saloons, Privet Boxes, and
Swell Clubs. But you can tell Mister Jack-
son, Eskvire, an cetrer, an cetrer, an cetrer
(put it all in, please, Sir, as I vant to be per-
lite), that in my day I'd a bin only too 'appy
to fight 'im to a finish (which mighn't ha'
bin in five minutes, either, hunless he wanted
it so), for—his Travelling Hexpenses ! !!
Yours to kommand,

The Chicken.

Think of the cotton-laden
trains

Direct from Manchester to

Think of the Sheffield Rail-
way's gains,
Not of your lilac or acacia!

WHAT OUR ARTIST (THE ONE WHO PAINTS THE PRETTY
" KISS-MAMMY" PICTURES) HAS TO PUT UP WITH.

Tommy, " It's a little Girl, fast asleep, with her Doll in her Arms I "
Jimmy. "Yes; and when she wakes up, won't she be Frightened
at that great big BtRD !"

"ONE TOUCH OF NATURE."

To introduce in a monu-
ment to a great writer a pre-
sentment of one of his most
popular characters, as Mr.
F. Edwin Elwell has done
in his bronze statue of
" Charles Dickens and
'Little NeU*'\ia decidedly
a pretty notion. " The
child," looking up into the
face of the great creative
genius, who loved this off-
spring of his sympathetic
fancy better than did all her
other admirers, is a pathetic
figure, and gives to the
monument a more human
and less coldly mortuary as-
pect than, unhappily, is usual
in such work. It is a " touch
of Nature " that makes even
the adjunct of the mauso-
leum akin to the quick world
of the living and loving. The
vivid valiant genius, who so
detested and denounced the
superfluous horrors with
which we surround death
and the tomb, would cor-
dially have approved it,
little as was his love for
monumental effigies, or care
for the fame that is depend-
ent on them.

Singular Plurality!

O Shaw-Lefeyre, was it but fatality,
Or could it be because the subjects bore 'em,

That, when you wished to argue on plurality,
About one Member came to form a quorum r

No doubt the others meant this to denote

That when you speak you like "One Man.
One Vote."

Friendly Advice to Mrs. Humphry
Ward, a propos op her Trouble with
her Adverse Critics.—Grieve no more !

ST. JOHN'S WOOD.

These hapless homes of middle class,

Can they escape annihilation
When come, in place of trees and grass,

A filthy goods-yard and a station ?

If such seclusion sheltered Peers,
Their wealth and influence might save it;

No speculator ever fears
Artists or writers such as crave it;

Or if it housed the Working Man,
Would Lords or Commons dare eject him ?

Picture the clamour if you can!
His vote, his demagogues, protect him.

But you, who only use your brains—
The people's voice, the noble's money,

Not yours—why save you from the trains ?
For quiet, do you say ? How funny !

Perhaps you think, because in May
The talk is all of Art and beauty,

The Commons also think that way ;
Not so, they have a higher duty.

If only speculators shout,

And millionnaires take up the story,
They thrust all Art and Nature out.

For Trade is England's greatest glory.

Then, if a careless House some day
Permit the Channel Tunnel boring,

Think how this railway line would pay ;
If you had shares you'd cease deploring.

Very " French before
Breakfast." — It was re-
ported in the Times that a
M. Roulez fought four duels
between nine and ten on Wednesday morn-
ing, severely wounded his four adversaries,
and then, after this morning's pleasure,
went about his business, that is his ordinary
business, as if nothing particular had hap-
pened. To this accomplished swordsman the
series of combats had been merely like taking
a little gentle exercise '" pour faire JRouler
le sang." The combatants, as it turns out,
appear to have been like Falstaff's "men in
buckram."

The Limb and the Law.—"To whom
does an amputated limb belong ?" queries
the Standard (d propos of the case of the
boy Hotjsley, whose father demanded that
the arm cut off in the Infirmary should be
given up to him). The answer is clear. An
amputated limb belongs to no body !

In Defence of the Great Paradoxist.

He may not be "earnest," he may not be
"smart," _

You may say, if you please, he's unable to
sing; [art,"—

But, oh, you must own he's a "work of
A "beautiful untrue thing ! "

Aspirations.—A Music-hall Manager told
the Parliamentary Committee sitting on
Theatres and Places of Entertainment, that
he did not believe in Art with a capital
A. Perhaps he believed in Art with a
capital H ?