Punch (103.1892)

December 24; 1892.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

291

SUCH A HAPPY FAMILY PARTY-AT CHRISTMAS.

Uncle John {losing his money and his temper). " Now, Jane, do me a Favour for once, and don't show your Hand ! "
Aunt Jane (whose best Cards her Partner has invariably over-trumped). "I can't help it. You show your Hands, and I'm sure
thev 're no Beauties ! " [After this, there's a prospect of a very pleasant evening.

Platform perorators, post-prandial glosers,
Must find many points to perplex 'em and vex 'em.

It bothers a spouter who freely would flourish
Coat-tails and mixed tropes at political dinners,

When doubts of his safety he's driven to nourish,
Through publicans rash and (electoral) sinners.

Good lack, and good gracious! One may be veracious,

And look with disgust upon bribes and forced bias,
Yet owing to " Agents" more hot than sagacious,

Appear as Autolycus-cum-k^kisihs.
One might just as soon be a Man-in-the-Moon,

Or hark back at once to the style of Old Sarum.
That Act (Corrupt Practices) may be a boon,

But the way they apply it seems most harum-scarum.

Should a would-be M.P. ask old ladies to tea,

Or invite male supporters to crumpets or crioKeV;
Should a snug Party Club prove a trifle too free,

Or give an equivocal " treat," or hat-ticket;
A*seven years' nursing of Slopville-on-Slime,

A well-fought Election and Glorious Yictory
(Crowed o'er by proud Party prints at the time)

May—lose you your Seat. It does seem contradictory.

Of course, my good friends, one would not say a word,

Against England's glory—Electoral Purity!
Suspect me of slighting that boon ? Too absurd!

But what good's a Seat without some small security.
To tight tooth and nail, land a win, and then fail

Along of dishon—I mean o'er-zealous " Agents"—
"Well, well, I don't wish at our Judges to rail,

But—putting it plainly—I fear it won't pay, gents

'Tis hard to attend a political feast,

And strut like a peacock, and crow like a bantam,
Yet feel at one's back, like a blast from the east,

A be-robed and be-wigged and blood-curdling law phantom.

Stentorian cheers, and uproarious hear-hears,

Though welcome, won't banish the sense of " wet-blanket"
(That's Ingoldsby's rhyme), when Petition-bred fears

Conjure up a grim Skeleton (Judge) at the Banquet!

Short verse

We need,
Most terse

Indeed,
That it—

This lay-
May fit

This day.
Short sight

Of sun,
Long night,

Begun
At four,

Sunshine
Once more

At nine.

THE SHORTEST DAY.

But when
It goes,
Why then

One knows
New Year

Will soon
Be here—

Then June,
So bright!

So sweet!
So light!

We '11 greet
The day

That's long
With gay,
Glad song—

A. M.

Meets eyes
Of them

Who rise
If no

Fog hide—
Then woe
Betide;
The day

That ought
To stay

So short
A space

Can't show
Its face
Below.

Excessively long-footed verse will undoubtedly characterise what
we say,

For Longfellow's longest lines skip along when we 've long longed
for the Longest Day. TovcH8TONE.

Military Motto for the New South London Ophthalmic Hos-
pital opened last Friday by the Duke of York.—"Eyes right!"

the choice of books.

To various opinions the quidnuncs give voice,

But the best " choice of books " means—the books of your choice.