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    Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 62, January 6, 1872
    Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 62, January 6, 1872
    Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 62, January 6, 1872
    Ebook103 pages50 minutes

    Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 62, January 6, 1872

    By Various Various

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 15, 2013
    Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 62, January 6, 1872

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      Book preview

      Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 62, January 6, 1872 - Various Various

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 62,

      January 6, 1872, by Various

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 62, January 6, 1872

      Author: Various

      Release Date: October 18, 2011 [EBook #37779]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, LONDON CHARIVARI, JAN 6, 1872 ***

      Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Ernest Schaal, and the Online

      Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

      PUNCH,

      OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

      Vol. 62.

      January 6th, 1872.

      LONDON:

      BRADBURY, EVANS, AND CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.

      GENTLEMEN Arbitrators, I salute you in the concrete, said Mr. Punch, walking up to the table of the Hall of Congress at Geneva. "I also salute you specially. Count Sclopis, una voce poco fà; M. Staempfli, my Merry Swiss Boy, point d'argent, point de Suisse; Baron Itajuba, I hope your sangre azul is cool this hot weather."

      Really, Mr. Punch, said the Lord Chief Justice Cockburn——

      And really, my dear Sir Alexander, was Mr. Punch's lightning-like repartee. "How are you? and Davis, my Bancroft, how are you? Have you seen Mrs. Bancroft in Caste? Capital, isn't she? And now to business, and after that we'll go for a row on the Lake, my Allobroges. Know they settled here, Davis?"

      I know several things, said Mr. Davis, and one is that you have no business in this chamber.

      "Rem acu tetigisti, my Occidental. My visit is strictly on pleasure. And I reckon to have the pleasure of sticking these here Negotiations in a greased groove before I quit."

      Porter! exclaimed the Count Sclopis, angrily.

      Not a drop, I thank you, said Mr. Punch, smiling. We should not get it good here. A bottle of Seltzer, if you please, with a slight dash of the liquid named after yonder lake, but unsweetened.

      His exquisite good-temper—he associates with Granville and Disraeli—was too much for the dignitaries. They all shook hands with him, said he was welcome, and begged that he would go away until dinner-time.

      Not a bit of it, my Beamish Boys, said Mr. Punch. I am going to earn that dinner.

      But, dear Mr. Punch, pleaded Mr. Davis, we can't admit another British Representative, especially so omnipotent a one as yourself.

      "You are polite, and I'm cosmopolite, my dear Davis. Non ubi nascor, sed ubi pascor, and being asked to an international repast I shall behave internationally."

      You will have to let him speak, laughed Baron Itajuba.

      You open your mouth to drop Brazilian diamonds, my Baron.

      "He'd better remain, for I don't think he'll go," gaily carolled the Chief Justice, with a reminiscence of a burlesque written at a time when burlesques were comic.

      "Take your brief, and belabour away," sang the Merry Swiss Boy.

      Come, Mr. Punch, said the Count, you and I have a common Italian ancestry. Do us credit.

      "Con rispetto parlando, Count, you ought not to doubt that I shall. Arbitrators! Have you all read Rabelais?"

      There's a question! shouted Everybody, indignantly. Have five great nations sent clowns to represent them?

      I will soon see about that, said Mr. Punch. When the good Pantagruel was asked to decide a most tangled, knotty, and vast law-suit, over which a hundred lawyers had wrangled and fattened for years, what was his first order? Nay, answer me not in words, but let me take my cooling draught, and see whether you know Rabelais.

      As with one impulse all sprang up, delight in each face. Secretaries and porters were summoned, and every scrap of paper, from the smallest Note to the most gigantic Case was removed into the court-yard. In five minutes all the painted glass in the windows was richly illuminated, and the flames roared like Vesuvius.

      In these circumstances, said Mr. Punch, "and as thinking of the 'frozen Caucasus' will not enable one to bear roasting, M. the Count, you

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