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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

VOL. 103

SEPTEMBER 17, 1892

HEARING HIMSELF.

He went into the Cyclops' cave To see what he could spy out; He slew his oxen, stole his sheep, And then he poked his eye out,

as the ribald doggerelist has it. Sounds a little "predatory," perhaps, as SALISBURY would say. But quite capable of being "spiritualised" into a sound Liberal policy, directed against the purblind Poluphemos of Property and Privilege.

On the whole, I had a high old time among the Orientalists. But when discussion ensued, I longed to throw off my disguise and rush, Achilles-like, into the fray. But MAX might have thought that inconsistent with my "colossal humanity;" so, very unwillingly, I refrained.

UP ALOFT.--The most elevated title in the Peerage, and belonging to the upperest part of the Upper House, is "Lord MOUNTGARRET." There can be but one higher, and that will have to be created in the person of a future "Lord TOPOCHIMNEPOT." Though, perhaps, the title of "Lord COWLEY," if it were altered into Lord CHIMNEPOT-COWL-Y, would be the highest of all.

INNS AND OUTS.

I had intended to have written, this week about "Loggosh"--including that mysterious canvass hand-box which contains all that a foreigner cares to carry about with him by day, and often pillows him when travelling by night; but the very mention of luggage brings me back to the Porter. I abominate him. I am "one who has suffered." So here goes!

"Imposing," best describes the H?tel porter; a very Grand H?tel has at least two of these impositions--the House Porter and the Omnibus Porter. The latter you only see twice in your H?tel existence, but he is the most futile and the deadliest fraud of the two.

I am too exhausted to curse, and leave the rival Porters to fight it out themselves, after paying off the ragged regiment of Station-men. On the drive to the H?tel, the Porter tries to propitiate me.


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