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Read Ebook: Punch or the London Charivari Volume 99 September 13 1890 by Various
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Ebook has 57 lines and 11625 words, and 2 pages
PUNCH,
VOL. 99.
September 13, 1890.
OUT FOR A HOLIDAY.
I had often been told that St. Margaret's Bay, between Deal and Dover, was lovely beyond compare. Seen from the Channel, I had heard it described as "magnificent," and evidence of its charms nearer at hand, was adduced in the fact that Mr. ALMA TADEMA, R.A., had made it his headquarters during a portion of the recent summer.
P.S.--I missed the omnibus!
GOOD YOUNG "ZUMMERSET!"
THE REAL GRIEVANCE OFFICE.
ALL THE YEAR ROUND;
When September soaks the fields, And the leaves begin to fall, Cricket unto Football yields,-- That is all!
Yes--in hot or humid weather, At all seasons of the year, Life is little without leather In a sphere.
In the scrimmage, at the stumps, 'Neath the goal, behind the sticks, Life's a ball, which Summer thumps, Winter kicks.
Our "terrestrial ball" is round, Man, by hidden instincts bound, Loves the spherical.
In rotund, elastic bounders, Plainly the great joy of men is, Witness cricket, billiards, rounders, And lawn-tennis.
Now the championship is fixed, Now the averages are settled, Spite of critics rather mixed, Slightly nettled.
Now the heroes of the Goal Brace themselves for kick and scrummage, Verily, upon the whole, 'Tis a "rum" age!
Wane the joys of Love, Art, Faction, Parties rise and Parties fall, The world's sure centre of attraction Is a Ball!
WARE SNAKE!
Says Professor Alfred Marshall, of Cambridge, the great English Economist, in his luminous Address at the British Association meeting:--
"Every year economic problems become more difficult, every year it is more manifest that we need to have more knowledge and to get it soon, in order to escape, on the one hand, from the cruelty and waste of irresponsible competition and the licentious use of wealth, and, on the other, from the tyranny and the spiritual death of an iron-bound Socialism."
THE STRAIGHT TIP.
CUPID AND MINERVA.
I was most anxious that my past should be concealed from him, as I felt that once revealed, it would come between us as a barrier for ever! So I dissembled. I adapted my conversation to his capabilities. I learned to talk of lawn tennis, cricket, politics, even cookery. Only on one occasion did I betray myself. With self-abasement I was asking for an explanation of the electric telegraph. He gave me a somewhat faulty definition.
"Dear me!" I cried. "How did they ever come to think of such a clever thing?"
I could have bitten out my tongue for such an indiscretion. He looked at me sharply, with a glance of covert distrust.
"Beware of consulting text-books," he returned, sententiously. "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing."
For the moment I was safe, but I knew that the confidence that hitherto had existed between us was shaken and lessened. When he left me that day, he referred once more to the incident.
"Forgive me, SCHOLASTICA, I know I have been disagreeable. But I confess I am upset--the fact is a man doesn't care to be picked up sharp in his Latin."
"Forgive me!" I pleaded, "and you will love me?"
At length the day arrived for our marriage. Just as I was starting for the Church a letter was handed to me. I recognised in the shaky superscription his handwriting. The envelope contained a printed paper! It was the Oxford Class List! Then the truth in all its hideousness dawned upon me. He knew at last that I had taken a Double First!
"IN THE AIR!"
A PARABLE FOR THE PERIOD.
A monstrous sight! Through SHELLEY's vision rare Of high Revolt one mighty image glows, This pregnant symbol of the struggling pair, So strangely matched, and wildly-warring foes, Filling the startled air with Titan throes. Interpret as you will that Winged Form, High-soaring, keen-eyed, of imperial pose, Or that close-clinging, coiled Colossal Worm; 'Tis an eternal type of strife amidst the storm.
The symbol speaks, though variously applied, Of snaking sleight that soaring strength assails, And strives to drag it from its place of pride, And, after cruel conflict, faints and fails. Sometimes it seems the air's strong monarch vails His crest awhile, as, hampering coil on coil, Insidious knot on pinion proud prevails; Yet towering greatness crawling hate shall foil, Nor shall the Bird of Jove be long the Python's spoil.
Bred far below, in dank malarious slime, That Serpent hath no power to soar in air, Save clinging to winged creatures that can climb The empyrean; yet from its foul lair It sprang to the broad wings it would ensnare, Encoil, enshackle, hamper, break, drag down. How swept the Bird so low that it should dare, That Worm, to wriggle midst its plumes full grown, And with the Air's sole monarch thus dispute the crown?
Alas! the Eagle stooped; those well-poised pinions Faltered, and beat the air unevenly; Nor shall the Bird maintain its proud dominions If those wings lapse from rhythm, pulse awry. Vain power of beak and claw, keenness of eye, Or pride of crested head, if those broad vanes Beat without balance true the clouded sky. The lord of those etherial domains, Once wing-maimed, pitiless fate to the dull earth enchains.
That Serpent is a sinister birth of time, The likeness of the light 'twould fain take on, But 'tis engendered from the poisonous slime Of hate, and greed, and darkness. Though it don Apollo's guise, 'tis but Apollyon. To shackle, poison, palsy is its aim. Venom and violence never yet have won A victory truly worthy of the name. To call this thing Toil's friend is friendship to defame.
"An Eagle and a Serpent wreathed in fight!" There is the symbol he who runs may read. The Bird is Trade, with pinions balanced right; Labour and Capital in love agreed, All's well; the Serpent shall not then succeed In shackling that, or in destroying this. The snake, a venomous worm of poisonous breed, In vain shall coil and knot, shall strike and hiss. Mark, Wealth! mark, Toil! The moral's one you scarce can miss!
A WORD TO JOHN BURNS.
Good gracious, how awful! The Trades were assembled, And they all yelled together, and tempers got brittle; And when Burns rose and thundered, all Liverpool trembled .
And he laid all about him, like mules who can kick hard, But kick without aim for the pleasure of kicking; And he trod upon Fenwick, and trampled on Pickard, And his friends shouted, "Death to political tricking!"
And on one side we heard all the Socialist gang wage A war against Broadhurst, who carried a hod once. And Broadhurst retorted on Burns and his language, That Burns might go back, since he languished in "quod" once.
And Burns ranted back; as the French say, the mustard Had gone to his nose, which was rather unfortunate. "St. Stephen's requires me, and I," so he blustered, "Must needs be a Member, since friends are importunate.
"But I'd rather," he added, "go six times to Holloway" "Than go to St. Stephen's, or loll away My time and the People's as Member of Parliament."
There's no "must" in the matter. The goose, John, who flaps his Vain wings, though at first very fearful he may be, If you face him at once, why, he promptly collapses; He may hiss as he runs, he won't frighten a baby.
If a man cares to toil, if, like Broadhurst or Burt, he Puts his neck to the yoke for the good of his fellows, He will find work to do , Without all this labour of trumpet and bellows.
RAILWAY TIME-TABLE. APPLICABLE ALL THE YEAR ROUND.
THE BETTER THE DAY, THE BETTER THE TALK!
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
"UN PETTITT-HARRIS COMPLIMENT."--AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS and his colleague in the authorship of the new piece at the National Theatre are to be congratulated. As might have been anticipated from the title, "there is money in it."
AT THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
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