Punch or The London charivari: Punch or The London charivari (5.1843)

202 PUNCH'S TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION!

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tun life (SvMtfton

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THE BEADLES.

Another year lias roll'd its course sublime
Into the wide capacious lap of time ;

Futurity is opening the door
To let in eighteen hundred forty-four,

While Erebus on tip-toe stands to see
The last of eighteen hundred forty-three.

Oh ! may you, worthy folks, be all alive
Even in eighteen hundred forty-five.

Our dignitv we have not worn in vain,

'

The boys have often felt the official cane ;

We've kept in church the rising giggle down

By putting on a seasonable frown ;

Many who stood on indecorum's brink

We've saved from error by a well-timed wink ;

And by judicious handling of the staff,

We've check'd on youthful cheeks the rising laugh.

J a o o

A t Easter we have gone our warlike rounds,
And beaten with our brass topp'd staves—the bounr
Then aid us to procure our Christmas cheer,
It comes—like royal births—but once a-year.

TORY WAITS.

THE TURNCOCK'S APPEAL FOR A CHRISTMAS-

BOX.

Esteemed Teetotalers,

When your water-jugs are sparkling at this festive
season with the pure and limpid element, please to remember
me, your indefatigable and unflinching Turncock. By your kind
Christmas-box I shall be enabled to drink your health in a bowl
of foaming New River. Please to recollect that it is the Turncock
w ho contributes to the pleasures of the Tea and Breakfast Table,
by converting your pint of milk into a quart, and transforming
useless chalk into a comparatively wholesome beverage. Don't
forget to ask for the Temperance medal.

Your constant diluter

And swamper in ordinary,

Theobald Mathkw.

We, the regular Ministerial Weights, who have cheeitd your
hearts with Income Tax Quadrilles, and soothed you into soft slum-
bers by the beautiful turns and variations of our political Waltzes,
humbly call upon you for your kind contributions. We have been
playing in'Concert, to lull you into forgetfulness ; and, in all matters,
our trumpets have been blowing hot and cold, while our measures
have been stealing over your enslaved senses.

Stanley, Double Base ;

James Graham, Sex-pent ;

11. Peel, Leader of the Band.

TIIE RAMONEUR'S ADDRESS.

Who, when the chimney is on fire,

Than any sweep can go up higher,
And do whatever you require ?—

The Ramoneur.

Who saves the bother and the noise
Of dirty little climbing-boys,

Whose feet the furniture destroys ? —
The Ramoneur.

Who human nature never shocks,
By torturing mortal knees and hocks,
Aud who deserves a Christmas-box ?—
The Ramoneur.

WHIG WAITS.

We, the old Whig Waits, who have been now waiting for upwards
of Two Years, and playing a variety ol Tunes, humbly solicit your
bounty at the present Festive period. We beg leave to remind you
that we have no connection whatever with the Tory Dead Weights,
who, by imitating many of our Airs, and playing the same strains
as we have been in the habit of doing, have endeavoured to impose
upon your Generosity.

J. Russell, First Fiddle ;

Palmerston, Trumpet.

N. B
not fail

TIIE POST-MAN.

Now boxing season comes again,

With beef and porter in its train,

Let not your humble Postman fear
To go without his Christmas cheer.

• l •

Unless to bounty you incline,

Where shall the wretched Jenkins dine P

Jenkins begs that his kind friends in the kitchen will
to give this paper to their masters and mistresses.