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  PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

  Volume 93, October 8th 1887

  _edited by Sir Francis Burnand_




[Illustration: OUR AMERICAN COUSIN AGAIN TO THE FRONT.]

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THE BATTLE OF THE WAY.

_A Lay of Lake-land._

  "Now, Lake-men, claim your right of way, and see the business done,
  Come with your crowbar, spade, and pick;--and sure the battle's won,
  For bolts and bars show SPEDDING'S race that you don't care a fig,
  And prove that right's no match for might when rallied round Latrigg."

  So shouted ROUTH-FITZPATRICK, and Lake-men with a cheer,
  To Fawe Park Gates from Keswick's peaceful <DW72>s were drawing near,
  When high upon the topmost wall as if to break the spell,
  There uprose the Solicitor of Mrs. SPENCER BELL.

  He spoke and as his voice he raised his arms he waved around,
  "Beware," he cried, "what you're about, for this is private ground.
  With sundry pains and penalties you'll surely be repaid,
  Who dare to-day set hand to move this lawful barricade!"

  But ROUTH-FITZPATRICK heeded not his protest, nor replied;
  So Mrs. BELL'S Solicitor, he promptly stood aside,
  And watched the next proceedings with a disapproving frown,
  For up went crow-bar, pick, and axe, and gate and bar went down.

  Yes, 'neath the sturdy Lake-men's blows the barriers gave way,
  And lo! in rushed the joyous thronging crowd without delay;
  And some on foot, and some in drags, and some in waggons stowed,
  Held on their way triumphantly down the disputed road.

  So onward towards Silver Hill advanced the active host,
  And cleared each wire fence away, and levelled every post;
  And when with crowbar, pick, and axe, they'd made their purpose plain,
  To Nichol Ending they returned in triumph once again.

  Then Secretary JENKINSON uprose and spoke a word,
  And said how by the sights that day his manly breast was stirred,
  And how that, if on Saturday as they had now begun
  They held their own, they might regard the fight already won.

  And then a telegram from Mr. PLIMSOLL he read out,
  The which the Lake-men greeted with a hearty answering shout;
  And Mrs. BELL'S Solicitor retired from the field,
  But with an ugly look that seemed to say, "We'll never yield!"

  And so commenced the fray that day, and though we know, of course,
  As everybody tells us, there's no remedy in force,
  Still, if the Lake-men's pick and axe this matter sets at rest,
  We must admit how ills to cure at Keswick they know best.

  But which side wins or loses in the still impending fight,
  Whether force of public freedom, or trick of legal right,
  The eager world on-looking may have watched a deadlier fray,
  But none more keen in contest than the Battle of the Way!

       *       *       *       *       *

PARNELLITE PROVERB (_applied to the Baleful Balfour_).--Give him an
inch (of law) and he'll take a (National) League.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE MORNING'S REFLECTIONS.

    SCENE--_Breakfast-table of an Illustrious Statesman of stalwart
    proportions and "Gladstonian" politics. Illustrious Statesman
    discovered, admiringly perusing three closely-printed columns of
    leading Morning Paper._

[Illustration]

_I. S._ (_soliloquising_). Hah! Really