Punch (103.1892)

54 PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [August 6, 1892.

WELL MEANT", BUT AWKWARDLY

'' So glad you Haven't Forgotten Me, Dear Lord Varicose ; I was Afraid you "Would, after so Many Years 1"
"Oh, no, Miss Evergreen; I neyer forget Old Faces 1"

WOT CHEE!

Or, Knocked 'Em in the West-min-is-ter
Road.

( With Mr. Punch's respectful apologies to the
Great Coster Laureate, Mr. Albert Chevalier.)

Coster Bill sings .—

Last week down our way there come a chap,
Sort o' " Sausage." Lots o' go and snap.
Twigs my Missus, and takes orf 'is cap,

In a (German) gentlemanly way.
" Ma'am," says 'e, " I 've 'appy news to tell.
Sol, of 'Atfield (rich old Tory Swell),
Snuffed it recent, to 'is sort a sell,

Leaving you this little Donkey Shay."

Chorus.

" "Wot cher! " all the neighhours cried,
" Who 're yer goin' to meet, Bill ?
'Ave yer bought the street, Bill ? "

Laugh!! I thought I should 'ave died.

Knock'd 'em in the West-min-is-ter Road !

Some says nasty things about the moke,
" Won't got fur afore }is back is broke ! "
That's all envy, cos we 're kerridgefoik,

Like the Tory Toffs wot 'ave to ao !
Straight! it woke the Tories up a bit.
Thought Brum Joe would go and 'ave a"fit,
When my Missus, who 'as Irish wit,

Sez " I 'ate Brum Brooms * becos they 're
low! "

Chorus.

" Wot cher! " all the neighbours cried.
" Who 're yer goin' to meet, Bill ?
'Ave yer bought the street, Bill ?

* The Hibernian lady doubtless means
" Broughams."

Missus, she the Shamrock waved with pride.
Knock'd 'em in the West-min-is-ter Road!

Some sez werry soon the moke '11 stop •
Not hup to our weight, but bound ter drop.
No use whackin' 'im with pole or prop,
'Cos the warmint wasn't made to go.
Well, it ain't hexact a four-in-'and ;
But me and the Missus hunderstand,
If we drive together we shall " land,"
Wich to Tory toffs '11 be a blow.

Chorus.

"Wot cher! " all the neighbours cried.

Who 're yer goin' to meet, Bill ?

'Ave yer bought the street, Bill ?
Win ? You bet! with Biddy by my side.
Knock'd in the West-min-is-ter Road !

Wait till arter August four or five!
Me and Misssus, we will take a drive.
Toffs say, "Wonderful they 're still alive!

You shall see that little Donkey go !
I '11 soon show 'em wot we mean to do ;
Just wot my old Missus wants me to ;
And in spite of all that rowdy crew,

'Ollerin'" Woa! Steady! Neddy, woa!"

Chorus.

" Wot cher I " all the neighbours cried.

" Who 're yer goin' to meet, Bill ?

'Ave yer bought the street, Bill ? "
Laugh ? We '11 make 'em laugh on 'tother
side,

And knock 'em in the West-min-is-ter Road!

Volunteer Yitticism. — Definition of
"Marksmen"—Writers on the Financial
News.

ALONE IN LONDON!

I found her crouching in the lonely street;
Scarce six years' old she was: Her little
feet

Were worn with endless pacing, up and
down,

Anl round and round the cruel thoughtless
town.

Her limbs were shrunk, and in her large
round eyes

The light of coming madness seemed to rise.
No word she spoke, but sat, a prey to scorn,
Fsrsaken, friendless, feeble and forlorn.

And, as I pondered on her sorry tale,
One weird, unearthly, melancholy wail,
Broke from her lips:—a ery of agony,
Of hopeless, mad, despairing misery:
Then grim starvation on her little head
Laid his cold fingers, and she fell back dead!

I raised her tenderly with pitying arms,
And in a garden, far from Life's alarms,
I buried her, and left her all alone,
And wrote this epitaph upon the stone : —
" Peace to her ashes, but not peace to those,
Her erewhile friends, the cause of all her
woes,

Who fondled and caressed her for a space,
Who loved to stroke her soft, confiding face,
Who gave her food and shelter from her
birth,

Who joined in all her harmless youthful
mirth;

But, when they went for holidays to roam,
Shut-to the door of what had been her home,
And thoughtless left to die upon the mat,
Their faithful but forgotten Tabby-cat."