Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 104, March 4, 1893

Excerpt

A BALLAD OF WEALTHY WOOING.

Ah, why, my Love, receive me

With such tip-tilted scorn?

Self-love can scarce retrieve me

From obloquy forlorn;

'Twas not my fault, believe me,

That wealthy I was born.

Of Nature's gifts invidious

I'd choose I know not which;

One might as well be hideous

As shunn'd because he's rich.

O Love, if thou art bitter,

Then death must pleasant be;

I know not which is fitter,

Not I—(or is't "not me"?)

'Tis not that thou abhorrest,

Oh, maid of dainty mould!

The foison of the florist,

The goldsmith's craft of gold;

Nor less than others storest

Rare pelts by furriers sold;

But knowing I adore thee,

And deem all graces thine,

My choicest offerings bore

Just because they are mine.

Then, smile not, dear deceiver,

Keep no kind word for me,

Enough that the receiver

Is thou—(or is it "thee"?)

When others come, how trimly

Thou sett'st thy chatty sail!

For me alone all dimly

Seemeth the sun to fail.

Young Frank he frowneth grimly,

And thou turn'st haughty pale.

'Tis not the taint of "City,"

For here be scores who sport

Their Mayfair manners pretty

In Cop-the-Needle Court.

Ah, chill me not so coolly,

A Crœsus though I be—

The one who loveth truly

I swear is I—(or "me"?)

But what availeth grammar

As taught in straitest schools—

The hammer of the Crammer

Forging Bellona's tools—

Or words that humbly stammer

Regardless of the rules?

And what availeth fretting,

Deep sighs, and dwindling waist,

And what the sad forgetting

Of culinary taste,

Since still thou fondly spurnest

Five hundred thou. (or "thee."?)

And on young Stoney turnest

Love's eye—(or is it "me"?)

Sad Conclusion.—To be virtuous for virtue's sake, without prospect of reward, this is to be good for nothing!

BYE-ELECTION-OLOGY.

Gladys. "Listen, Sibyl. Papa has won a Great Moral Victory——What does a Moral Victory mean exactly?"

Sibyl (who has had more experience). "Oh, it means—well, that we are to be the Victims of Political Economy, and not go to London, after all!"

"I do not wish to make a joke," Mr. Inderwick, Q.C., is reported to have observed in the course of examining the plaintiff in a divorce case, but, in spite of this pathetic announcement, which passed without any comment from the Judge, the ruling passion was too strong for him, and he continued, "but Artists' models are not always models of virtue, are they?" Not new, not by any means new, of course, but he had apologised beforehand, and he couldn't help it; as the weak heroine, who yields to strong temptation in a French novel or play, usually acknowledges "C'était plus fort que moi." The inflammable materials being in close contact, there was nothing to 'inder-wick from catching fire when in proximity to a spark of genius. Yet so powerfully had the eminent Queen's Counsel's prefatial apology affected the court and the audience, that his saucy sally—(for there is life in the old sally yet, whether in our alley or in this Court)—was not followed by the usually reported "laughter." How was it received?...