Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 104, May 6, 1893

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Language: English
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Being gifted with decent taste and a sensitive eye,

I have never been much beguiled

By advertisements, crude in colour, and ten feet high

(Which, in fact, I rather reviled);

And, as for gigantic signs swinging up in the sky—

They drove me perfectly wild!

II.

Then the lurid posters on paling and chimney-stack

Were the terror of every town—

Till a League was started by Mr. William Black

For the purpose of putting them down;

And the sympathetic invited its efforts to back

With an annual half-a-crown.

III.

So I cheerfully paid the fee, and my name was enrolled,

And a solemn oath I swore;

(As is usual on such occasions,—or so I'm told)

That, in future, no shop or store

Which aggressively advertised any article sold

I would patronise any more!

IV.

But that mad rash oath I recall with a vain regret,

As I brood in bitter complaint,

On the number of useful things that I'm dying to get—

And my conscience tells me I mayn't!

As their various virtues are vaunted in letters of jet,

Or gaudier gilding and paint!

V.

I should like to be clean if I could—but I cannot cope,

Without saponaceous aid,

With a shower of London smuts—and I'm losing hope,

Getting daily a dingier shade,

In a futile search for a genuine Toilet-soap

That has shunned meretricious parade!

VI.

My villa would be—when it's furnished—the cosiest nest,

But I fear it is doomed to be bare;

For upholsterers' puffs are now a persistent pest,

And so shamelessly each will declare

His "Elegant Dining and Drawing-room suites" are the "cheapest and best"—

That I daren't choose so much as a chair!

VII.

I would fly to the Ocean shore, or the Continent,

To escape from a lot accurst;

But here, by my own parole, I'm a prisoner pent!

I must find a Company first

That doesn't resort to obtrusive advertisement—

And the Railway ones are the worst!

VIII.

And now I'm developing symptoms of bodily ills,

But, however sanguine I've felt,

Of a cure from So-and-So's Syrup, Elixir, or Pills,

Or his Neuro-magnetic Belt—

Can I buy, when their fame is based on a stratum of bills

Down every area dealt?

IX.

And even my path to a tranquil tomb is barred

While that oath continues to bind;

For a coffin and funeral car will be somewhat hard

For a faithful adherent to find—

When already each undertaker has left a card

With his terms and "inquiries kind"!

X.

So you see, Mr. William Black, what a mess I've made!

And you'll own my dilemmas are due

To the oath which I took when I followed your precious crusade.

If its terms were drafted by you,

You may know some ingenious means their effect to evade—

Kindly drop me a line if you do!

TO BLACKHAM'S BOYS.

(The Australian Cricketers have arrived in England.)

Welcome, John McCarthy Blackham,

And his boys! 'Tis safe to back 'em,

Giffen, Bannerman, and Turner,

To teach Bull—a cheerful learner!

Austral Cricket "up to date."

Bruce and Trumble—rather late—

Owing to Lutetia's charms!

Soon will join their chums in arms.

Lyons and M'leod are ready;

Dashing George and Alec steady,

And the others, prompt to pitch 'em

(Stumps) on the old sward at Mitcham....

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