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    Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, July 21st 1894
    Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, July 21st 1894
    Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, July 21st 1894
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    Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, July 21st 1894

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 27, 2013
    Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, July 21st 1894

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      Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, July 21st 1894 - Archive Classics

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, July 21st 1894, 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.org

      Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, July 21st 1894

      Author: Various

      Release Date: May 23, 2012 [EBook #39770]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***

      Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer, Ernest Schaal and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

      PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 107. JUNE 21, 1894.

      * * * * *

      A RIVERSIDE LAMENT.

        In my garden, where the rose

        By the hundred gaily blows,

        And the river freshly flows

              Close to me,

        I can spend the summer day

        In a quite idyllic way;

        Simply charming, you would say,

              Could you see.

        I am far from stuffy town,

        Where the soots meander down,

        And the air seems—being brown—

              Close to me.

        I am far from rushing train;

      Bradshaw does not bore my brain,

        Nor, comparatively plain,

      A B C.

        To my punt I can repair,

        If the weather's fairly fair,

        But one grievance I have there;

              Close to me,

        As I sit and idly dream,

        Clammy corpses ever seem

        Floating down the placid stream

              To the sea.

        Though the boats that crowd the lock—

        Such an animated block!—

        Bring gay damsels, quite a flock,

              Close to me,

        Yet I heed not tasty togs,

        When, as motionless as logs,

        Float defunct and dismal dogs

        There aussi.

        As in Egypt at a feast,

        With each party comes at least

        One sad corpse, departed beast,

              Close to me;

        Till a Canon might go off,

        Till a Dean might swear or scoff,

        Or a Bishop—tip-top toff

              In a see.

        Floating to me from above,

        If it stick, with gentle shove,

        To my neighbour, whom I love,

              Close to me,

        I send on each gruesome guest.

        Should I drag it out to rest

        In my garden? No, I'm blest!

      Non, merci!

      * * * * *

      [Illustration: THE 'ARDEN-ING PROCESS.

      Orlando. TIRED, ROSALIND? Rosalind. PNEUMATICALLY.]

      * * * * *

      OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

      For a modest dish of camp-pie, suited to barracks and youth militant, commend me, quoth one of the Baron's Baronites, "to Only a Drummer-Boy, a maiden effort, and unpretentious, like its author, who calls himself ARTHUR AMYAND, but is really Captain ARTHUR DRUMMER HAGGARD. He has the rare advantage, missed by most people who write soldier novels, of knowing what he is talking about. If there are faults 'to pardon in the drawing's lines,' they are faults of technique and not of anatomy. The Court is with you," quoth the BARON DE B.-W.

      * * * * *

      HOTEL NOTE.—The chef at every Gordon Hotel ought to be a "Gordon

      Bleu."

      * * * * *

      THE VOLUNTEER'S VADE MECUM.

      (Bisley Edition.)

      Question. What is the ambition of every rifleman?

      Answer. To become an expert marksman.

      Q. How is this to be done?

      A. By practice at the regimental butts (where such accommodation exists), and appearing at Bisley.

      Q. Is the new site of the National Rifle Association better than the last?

      A. Certainly, for those who come to Bisley intend to shoot.

      Q. But did any one turn up at Wimbledon for any purpose other than marksmanship?

      A. Yes, for many of those who occupied the tents used their marquees merely as a suitable resting-place for light refreshments.

      Q. Is there anything of that kind at Bisley?

      A. Not much, as the nearest place of interest is a crematorium, and the most beautiful grounds in the neighbourhood belong to a cemetery.

      Q. Then the business of Bisley is shooting?

      A. Distinctly. Without the rifle, the place would be as melancholy as its companion spot, Woking.

      Q. In this place of useful work, what is the first object of the marksman?

      A. To score heavily, if possible; but, at any rate, to score.

      Q. Is it necessary to appear in uniform?

      A. That depends upon the regulations commanding the prize competitions.

      Q. What is uniform?

      A. As much or as little of the dress of a corps that a judge will order a marksman to adopt.

      Q. If some marksmen were paraded with their own corps, how would they look?

      A. They would appear to be a sorry sight.

      Q. Why would they appear to be a sorry sight?

      A. Because over a tunic would appear a straw hat, and under a pouch-belt fancy tweed trousers.

      Q. But surely if the Volunteers are anxious to improve themselves they will practise smartness?

      A. But they do not want to promote smartness; they want to win cups, or the value of cups.

      Q. What is the greatest reward that a marksman can obtain?

      A. Some hundreds of pounds.

      Q. And the smallest?

      A. A dozen of somebody's champagne, or a box of someone else's soap.

      Q. Under all the circumstances of the case, what would be an appropriate rule for Bisley?

      A. Look after the cup-winning, and everything else will take care of itself.

      * * * * *

      LATEST PARLIAMENTARY BETTING.

      GENERAL ELECTION STAKES.

          2 to 1 on Rosebery and Ladas (coupled).

         25 to 1 agst Harcourt's Resignation.

         50 to 1 — Nonconformist Conscience.

         70 to 1 — Budget Bill (off—75 to 1 taken).

        100 to 1 — Ministerial Programme.

      FOR PLACES (NEXT SESSION STAKES).

      2 to 1 on Asquith for the Leadership. 12 to 1 agst the Labouchere Peerage.

      NEW PREMIERSHIP SELLING STAKES.

      12 to 1 on Gladstone Redivivus. 200 to 1 agst any other.

      * * * * *

      AS WE LIKE IT.

      (JAQUES resumes.)

        —All the world's upon the stage,

        And here and there you really get a player:

        The exits rather than the entrances

        Are regulated by the County Council;

        And one man in a season sees a lot—

        Seven plays a week, including matinées,

        And several acts in each. And first the infant,

        A vernal blossom of the Garrick Caste,

        Playing the super in his bassinet,

        And innocently causing some chagrin

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