6
PUNCH.
STRBBT POLITICS.
A DRAMATIC DIALOGUE BETWEEN PUNCH AND HIS STAGE MANAGER.
{Enter Punch.)
Punch. — R-r-r-roo-to-tooit-tooit ?
( Sinffs ,) Wheel about and turn aboutj And do jes so ;
Ebery time I turn about,
I jump Jim Crow.^’
Manager.— Holla, Mr. Punch i your voice is rather husky to- day.
Punch. — Y es, yes ; Pve been making myself as hoarse as a hog, bawling to the free and independent electors of Grogswill all the morning. They have done me the honour to elect me as their representative in Parliament. Pm an M.P. now.
Manager. — ^An M P. ! Gammon, Mr. Punch.
The Hog Toby. — ^Bow, wow, wow, wough, wough!
Punch. — Fact, upon my honour. I’m at this moment an unit in the collective stupidity of the nation.
Dog Toby. — R-r-r-r-r-r — wough — ^wough !
Punch. — Kick that dog, somebody. Hang the cur, did he never see a legislator before, that he barks at me so ?
Managpr. — A legislator, Mr. Punch ? with that wooden head of yours! Ho! ho! ho! ho!
Punch. — My dear sir, I can assure you that wood is the material generally used in the manufacture of political puppets. There will be more blockheads than mine in St. Stephen’s, I can tell you. And as for oratory, why I flatter my whiskers Til astonish them in that line.
Manager. — But on what principles did you get into Parliament, Mr. Punch ?
Punch. — Td have you know, sir, Fm above having any principles hut those that put money in my pocket.
Manager. — I mean on what interest did you start }
Punch. — On self-interest, sir. The only great, patriotic, and noble feeling that a public man can entertain.
Man ger. — Pardon me, Mr. Punch ; I wish to know whether you have come in as a Whig or a Tory ?
Punch. — As a Tory, decidedly, sir. I despise the base, rascally, paltry, beggarly, contemptible Whigs. I detest their policy, and — The Dog Toby. — Bow, wow, wough, wough !
Manager. — ^HoIIo ! Mr. Punch, what are you saying I under- stood you were always a staunch Whig, and a supporter of the present Government.
, Punch. — So I was, sir. I supported the Whigs as long as they supported themselves ; but now that the old house is coming down about their ears, I turn my back on them in virtuous indignation, and take my seat in the opposition ’bus.
Manager. — But where is your patriotism, Mr. Punch
Punch. — W here every politician's is, sir — ^in my breeches’ pocket.
Manager. — ^And your consistency, Mr. Punch?
Punch. — What a green chap you are, after all. A public man’s consistency! It’s only a popular delusion, sir. I'll telL you wha+’s consistency, sir. When one gentleman’s in and won't come out ^ and hen 'Another gentleman’s out and can’t get and when both gentle- men persevere in their determination — ^that's consistency.
Manager. — 1 understand ; but still I think it is the duty of every
public man to
Punch. — { sm § s ) —
- Wheel about and turn about,
And do jes so ;
Ebery time he turn about,
He jumps Jim Crow.”
Manager. — Then it is your opinion that the prospects of the Whigs are not very flattering 1
Punch. — ^'Tis all up with them, as the young lady remarked when Mr. Green and his friends left Wauxhall in the balloon ; they haven't a chance. The election returns ai*e against them everywhere, England deserts them — Ireland fails them— Scotland alone sticks with national
attachment to their backs, like a
The Dog Toby. — Bow, wow, wow, wough !
Manager. — Of course, then, the Tories will take offic e — - ? Punch. — I rayther suspect they will. Have they not been licking their chops for ten years outside the Treasury door, while the sneaking Whigs were helping themselves to all the fat tit-bits within I Have they not growled and snarled all the while, and proved by their barking that they were the fittest guardians of the country t Have they not wept over the decay of our ancient and
venerable constitution ? And have they not promised and
vowed, the moment they got into office, that they would Send
round the hat.
Manager.— Very good, Mr. Punch ; but I should like to know what the Tories mean to do about the corn-laws? Will they give the people cheap food ?
PuNBii. — No, but they’ll give them cheap drink. They’ll throw open the Thames for the use of the temperance societies.
Manager.— But if we don’t have cheap corn, our trade must be destroyed, our factories will be closed, and our mills left idle.
Punch. — There you’re wrong. Our tread-mills will be in constant work ; and, though our factories should be empty, our prisons will be quite full.
Manager.— That’s all very well, Mr. Punch; hut the people will grumble a leefle if you starve them.
Punch.— Ay, hang them, so they will ; the populace have no idea of being grateful for benefits. Talk of starvation! Pooh!— I’ve studied politic^*' economy in a workhouse, and I know what it means. They’ve got a fine plan in those workhouses for feeding the poor devils. I hey do it on the homoeopathic system, by administering to them oatmeal porridge in infimtessimal doses ; hut some of the paupers have such pioud stomachs that they object to the diet, and actually die through spite and villany. Oh ! 'tis a dreadful world for ingratitude! But never mind Send round the hat.
Manager. — What is the meaning of the sliding scale, Mr. Punch?
Punch. — It means — when a man has got nothing for breakfpt, he may slide his breakfast into his lunch ; then, if he has got nothing for lunch, he may slide that into his dinner ; and if he labours under the same difficulties with respect to the dinner, he may slide all three meals into his supper.
Manager. — But if the man has got no supper ?
Punch. — Then let him wish he may get it.
Manager. — Oh I that’s your silding scale ?
Punch. — Yes ; and a very ingenious invention it is for the suppres- sion of victuals. R-r-r-roo-to-tooit-tooit ! Send round the hat.
Manager. — ^At this rate, Mr. Punch, I suppose you would not be favourable to free trade ?
Punch — Certainly not, sir. Free trade is one of your new-fangled notions that mean nothing but free plunder. I’ll illustrate my position, I’m a boy in a school, v/ith a ba^ of apples, which, being the only apples on my form, I naturally sell at a penny a-piece, and so look for- ward to pulling in a considerable quantity of browns, when a boy from another form, with a bigger bag of apples, comes and sells his at three fora penny, which, of couise, knocks up my trade.
Manager. — But it benefits the community, Mr. Punch.
Punch. — D — ^n the community ! I know of no community but Punch and Co. I'm for centralization— and individualization — every man for himself, and Punch for us all ! Only let me catch any rascal bringing his apples to my form, and see how I’ll cobb him, So now — ^send lound the hat — and three cheers for punch’s politics.
SONGS FOB THE SENTIMBNTAI#.
No. I.
O revEaK, thou fay-like stranger,
Why this lonely path you seek ;
Every step is fraught with danger Unto one so fair and meek.
Where are they that should protect thee In this darkling hour of doubt ?
Love could never thus neglect thee ! —
Does your mother "know you? re out^
Why so pensive, Peri-maiden ?
Pearly tears bedim thine eyes I
Sure thine heart is overladen,
When each breath is fraught with sighs.
Say, hath care life’s heaven clouded,
Which hope’s stars were wont to spangle ?
What hath all thy gladness shrouded ? —
Has your mother sold her mangle $
A PUBLIC CONVENIENCE.
We are requested to state, by the Marquis of W— - — , that, for the convenience of the pubhc, he has put down one of his carriages, and given orders to Pearce, of Long-acre, for the construction of an easy and elegant stretcher*
