PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
Vol. 109.August 10, 1895.
edited by Sir Francis Burnand
(For the Circular Tourist.)
"Holidays are but a dream!"
If you hold that vacs are slumbers,
Well—things are not what they seem.
And the earth's end is their goal;
"Bust" thou art, and "bust" returnest,
Sing they to the tripper's soul.
Greets the tourist on his way;
His to toil, that each to-morrow
Find him farther on his way.
While we dire discomfort brave;
In globe-trotting, record-beating,
Pleasure surely finds its grave.
Since "tow-rowing" is our fate—
Then, half-dead with guide-pursuing,
Brag o'er those at home who wait!
"Forwood Boys."—Sir Arthur Forwood, the new Baronet,observes the Day-by-Day-istical writer in the Daily Telegraph, "isnot to be confounded with his brother, Sir William Forwood."Why not? Why interfere with the liberty of speech on the part of someRadicals, who might say "Confound 'em both!" Or, in the words of theNational Anthem, "Confound their politics."
Omitted from the Gracious Speech of H.R.H. the Prince of Wales atthe opening of the Southampton New Dock.—"I appear here as theJudge, at whose word the prisoner is to be let into the dock, and,subsequently, let out again. Ladies and gentlemen, the prisoner is—thewater." (Cheers.)
Venus An—iline dye—omene.
JOEYING AT THE PRINCE OF WALES'S.
There have been Joes not a few on the stage. Coming down fromthe time of Joe Grimaldi, we pass on the way Joseph Andrews,Poll and Partner Joe, Poor Joe from Bleak House, and many otherJoes until we come to Gentleman Joe, hansom cab-driver,played by Arthur Roberts. The question and answer in the oldidiotic nigger song applies appropriately here, with slight adaptation: