Punch (103.1892)

18 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [July 16, 1892.

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THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED OTHERWISE.

{Lady Festus At Home—2 a.m.)
Hostess. "Only just come Sir George? How good of you to Come so Late I"

OUT OF IT !

{The Lay of the Non-Elected.)

Then a warm-faced functionary read the " Declaration "—when
A sort of sinking sickness took Smith in the abdomen;
And he smiled a sickly sort of smile, and stalked out at the door,
And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more !

Bret Harte adapted.

Pheugh ! His poll was taken early (it was not on Saturday),
And he lost by seven hundred, and is out of the fierce fray ;
And whether he rejoices, or internally repines,
May be clear to the wiseacres who can "read between the lines."

It was hot, too, while it lasted, and of epidemic ills

The Election Fever " takes the cake." 'Tis true it seldom kills,

But for far and wide contagion, and for agony acute,

Its supremacy is certain as its sway is absolute.

And he had it very badly. He looks convalescent now,

But the frenzy of the meeting1 brought the crimson to his brow,

And his thorax is still husky with his eloquent appeal

To the mustered working-men at the hour of mid-day meal.

How they swarmed about his waggon ! How their oily fustian filled
The summer air with fragrance that his fine olfactories thrilled !
How very loud their shouts were, and how very rude their jeers,
And how very strong the bouquet of clay pipes and bitter beera I

His arguments amused them, and his peroration fine,
About " standing for old England stoutly all along the line,"
Would have surely proved impressive, but for some sardonic ass,
Who produced an anti-climax with the shouted comment " Gas ! "

Then the mob broke up in laughter, to return to pipe and can,
And—plumped for his opponent pretty nearly to a man;
For of all ungrateful cynics, and of all impervious clowns,
Commend me (says our wanderer), to the workmen of our towns.

Well, experientia docet. That confounded "local Club"
(Blend of Institute and Chapel with a savour of the pub.)

Where the pallid-faced cheesemongers, and the clammy-handed snobs,
Swarmed around to "patronise" him, was the toughest of tough
jobs.

Its rooms were wondrous stuffy and its members scarce " good
form,"

For they mostly dropped their aitches, and they always looked so
warm.

Why political enthusiasts so run to noise and heat,

And crude manners, and bad grammar, is a crux that's hard to beat.

But he bore it,—yes, he bore it; he shook heaps of 'orny 'ands,
Heard the shindy of their shoutings, and the braying of their
bands;

Stood their " heckling," which was trying, and their praises, which
were worse, [purse.
All the claims upon his time, and taste, his patience, and his

Then they " chucked" him by three figures! Well, he 's " out of

it," thanks be!
And he offs it by the Special" to the river or the sea.
He heard the " Declaration,'' and the rival Party's roar,
And—" the subsequent proceedings interested him no more."

"'Latest Results! Selections !!' Oh, confound the boy ! Get
out!

Let the winners sum their winnings, let their blatant backers shout.
What have I to do with pollings ? Cease, cacophonous urchin,
cease!

I am going to read The Wrecker, and possess my soul in peace)!,"

D. G." and Mrs. K,.—Mr. Punchbega to congratulate the Daily
Graphic on the electioneering ladder showing every day the position
of the Parties. Very "Happy Thought." His ancient friend,
Mrs. Ram, in speaking of this journal, observed, that " Daily
Graphic was not by any means a new name, and the paper ought
to have been purely theatrical, as the person after whom it is
evidently called was the celebrated actor, you know, my dear, in the
last century, whom Dr. Johnson used to call' Little Daily Graphic'"