Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98 January 11, 1890

Various

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98 January 11, 1890, by VariousThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away orre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98 January 11, 1890Author: VariousEditor: Francis BurnandRelease Date: June 18, 2008 [EBook #25832]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.netPUNCH,OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.VOL. 98JANUARY 11, 1890.UNTILED; OR, THE MODERN ASMODEUS."Très volontiers," repartit le démon. "Vous aimez les tableaux changeans; je veux vous contenter."Le Diable Boiteux,XVI."Midnight's meridian is supposed to markThe bound twixt toil and slumber. Light and darkMete out the lives of mortalsIn happy alternation," said my guide."Six hours must fleet ere Phoebus shall set wideHis glowing orient portals."The last loud halloo at the tavern-doorlong since has driven the reckless and the poorFrom misery's only havenForth on the chilling night. 'All out! All out!'Less sad would fall on bibulous' souls, no doubt,The refrain of the Raven."London lies shuttered close. Law's measured beatFalls echoing down the shadow-chequered street;A distant cab-wheel clatters ...

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• Publié par: zoit
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 72
• Langue: English

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98 January 11, 1890, 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, Vol. 98 January 11, 1890

Author: Various

Editor: Francis Burnand

Release Date: June 18, 2008 [EBook #25832]

Language: English

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

Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOL. 98

JANUARY 11, 1890.

O ,REL;DM DOT EHUNTI .n" oVsua mizel repartit le démov sènoloreit ",s N ERMOASUSDE Tr . " teux Boiablee Di .r L "neetoctnuo s vuxvee  js;angenahc xuaelbat se wixt toi bound t m ra T k eh opes dotisn up ser miaidginds'th , iM" on,"natilterpy aed " .g iu dyms ia  fstmus urhox SisubeohP ere teel umber. Ll and sld ra M k te githa dn lie s veoue tht  nI sl pah  m foatro eht tat -nodvare ng s or lo hasince nevird kcer ehtnd assleoo phe t s ahlls tew di H e is glowing orienop tlatr T" .s l eht asudloal ho lo  no llaf dluow dsas es ' L t!oul Al  eer ,t hT odbun  ouls,' solousbibu roF n o ht  ylnevahryse o'sro r Fmim  llo tu !gith .A'illing nn the ch  twndog doha shellaF taeb niohce s  dis et; A cabtant qeeu-whctserer d . " en ndLo lons ie iarffo neht vaR   Law's measured hstueter dlcso.e , D ne amre a,tiro p rehttam  gnio fo  the eareach not dhPlisio  fiter  whe ty,crn keun R ,naom wol s'fia ers;lattel c-whe  srder'lawtshT e a ,ta dnu llon-nd,te erO'le sinep nam riht .oDnwawrd we drew, Silen  ,hceeps F ,wenk I edodeborthe or m ". hT etsr dawo ehSlow 's scid suba ec",I s githp aeost-midn oated. "P letulf y hcim ew'e t Owhr   Uofesnrel yV laavtsno e it roveht p t Mig seuq resolC ?gnieple Sm.doopShg  ighed the Shadow icyt", P"aeec"?s  iner lg,p-amt li mlac olC , c-estsul il, urmohis on tolgnht es't d ya al bkeli r teAf m,um" ,dia llaf ts em perch e, You de te hhtreecb ordo ai l f  r O hiit An.ol tw koecnaub ; At t ringstirrs, ggels umgithimnd mos emsee rcca s,langis s'aes eh ti eodev sIn tol  . "She of the wh g restfiaht oL ns esrtpal ia hin dlylW ro.y S" P tir We ve, O, oralth s derettaeP !poh con yeehu-sselo u-tpez pA ;ec ihw ve e pry malksarec O ; env  lail daf tere, sooice aus t ,sedihC ,suoron timeso, nsteeahroH wse .ucsrem s ts v sh, I  fluthey  areg.go d Ant yehcaeiot 'releh sart lies like a ol,g lSee paehct ye eedirurbls  i eF" .gnir ttucs tefingle, fleeers ne s,tp a apowkr swe ertw 'esrvne deniarts ot lli nd, T  rouoursng h eol lhtlfia e a toinom s , T ip n ha tanorg ep ecissaone fierit with iselcn e eeet T r  o riohc-hprohc ni  hud ulwo raseA  shT ahma!eci e tovms sictit, tilen saL d  sehmehtkil   hheryarg inunsodrnoci ,tsre;nt  us. "Strident, sa na dia ns rtt eh pdom Sho ry Of scur erutan nehw ,won omfrt es s R vera c aeyrh uo ek oSemw gh handsrs, thou edutht ,s s'ivreus mwat  seyllti out oon  to life.e F" emrt aelror m d anble Las toLols ot dn m dnA ,pi slaves Have 'servdet ehp buil;c ' moy  trnl ildnmithgieht p es roo e

XVI.

ver shak with fe

selat tnsaeaplt ghri 

"In roseate visions shall racked souls rejoice Haunted by echoes of that harrying voice? Nay, friend, uncounted numbers Of victims to commercial strain and stress, Seek nought more sweet than dull forgetfulness In the short night's scant slumbers."

A long soft-lighted room, the muffled beat On carpets soft of watchful waiters' feet In deft attendance gliding; A table spread with toothsome morsels, fit For the night-feast of genius, wealth and wit, Of a skilled chef's providing.

Side-lights from all Society shift here Reflected in keen mot and jocund jeer, Wild jest, and waggish whimsey. Stagedom disrobed and Statecraft in undress, Stars of the Art-world, pillars of the Press,

"Though the great streets are still, the shutters up, Gas flares within, and ere they sleep or sup These serfs of Competition Must clean, and sort and sum. There's much to do Behind those scenes set fair to public view By hucksters of position.

Goodfellowship,  bonnes bouches , Of bonnes fortunes! Here a quaint cynic rails, There an enthusiast gushes. Gay talk flows on, not in a rolling stream, But with the brooklet's intermittent gleam And brisk irradiant rushes.

So I addressed the Shadow. "Friend," he smiled. "'Twas 'lurid London' that you wished 'untiled.' Most secret things are sinister. Innocent mirth needs no Ithuriel spear To make its inner entity appear. Still, to your mood I'll minister.

"Too sombre Spirit, hath the opening year No scenes of gayer hope and gentler cheer? Is all beneath night's curtain In this vast city void of promise glad? Are all the guests of midnight spectres sad, And suffering and uncertain?"

"Look!" Such a burst of laughter shook the room As might dispel a desert anchorite's gloom. Flushed faces keen and clever Contorted wildly; such mirth-moving shape Was taken by that genial histrion's jape As mobs are mute at never.

"Not long-drawn Labour only breaks the rest Of London's night. Society in quest Of Gold's sole rival, Pleasure, Makes little of the bounds of dark and day. Night's hours lead on a dance as glad and gay As the old Horaes' measure.

"The shop-assistant's Sabbath has begun! His sixteen hours long Saturday has run Its wearing course and weary. The last light's out, and many an aching head At last, at last, seeks in a lonely bed A dreamland dim and dreary.

nA denvr.w htyrrokeacwid  aes rre

Sage solid, f   lnâuer  flism,y

All cross and counter here; they lounge and sup: The fragrant smoke-cloud and the foaming cup Tickle their eager senses. What care these for the clock, whilst banter flows And dainty "snacks" and toothsome herring-roes The distant cook dispenses?

"How different these," my calm companion said, "From the crowd yonder! These yearn not for bed As rest from leaden labour. The night may be far spent, the Sabbath dawns, But here no dull brain-palsied drowser yawns At his half-nodding neighbour.

"With wit, and wealth, and wine, the hours of night In sombre Babylon may dispense delight. These revellers, slumber-scorning, Radiant and well-arrayed, will stop, and stop, Till waiters drowse. But then, yon slaves of Shop Must meet a different morning."

Closing time

(To be continued.)

  Sunday Times  "having a new ball- North is us that Colonel tells room"—(he wouldn't have an old one built, would he? But no matter)—"the walls of which are composed of onyx." Of course, a Billionaire pays all the workmen punctually and regularly; therefore, "Owe-nix" walls are an appropriate memorial. Si monumentum quæris, circumspice.

An Unsatisfactory Christmas Present.—We can well understand and sympathise with you in your disappointment on discovering that you had been deceived as to the amount of intelligence possessed by the Learned Pig that you had been induced to purchase as a Christmas present for your invalid Grandfather. It must have been very annoying, after having imagined that you had provided your aged relative with a nice long winter's evening amusement resulting from the creature's advertised powers of telling fortunes and spelling sentences with a pack of ordinary playing cards, to receive a letter from the housekeeper bitterly complaining of its performance, which seems merely to have consisted of eating all the tea-cake, biting a housemaid, getting between your Grandfather's legs and upsetting him in his armchair, and, finally, when pursued, trying to obtain refuge in the grand piano. You cannot be surprised after this experience, that it has been intimated to you that if you do not take the creature yourself away at once, it will be forthwith handed over to the first policeman that passes. Yes, spite the pig's reputed intellectual gifts, we would advise you to close with the pork-butcher's offer you mention. When the creature has been cut up, send your Grandfather some of the sausages. This may possibly appease the old gentleman, and serve to allay the irritation that your unfortunate Christmas gift appears to have occasioned.

ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.

roN W htehTSpe tiorlsalTh.—psnoedtngnC roer of the

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DARES AND ENTELLUS. ( New Non-VirgilianVersion told by Punchius to the Shade of Sayerius in the Elysian Fields, With Intercalary  Observations by the Illustrious ex-Pugilist. )

"What do you think of that, Tom?" Mr. Punch."What do you think of that, Tom?" Shade of Sayers."Think!" (Disgusted.the sooner the P. R.'s put down, the) "Why, I think better!"

llus rai