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Punch, or the London Charivari

Volume 105, December 16, 1893.

_edited by Sir Francis Burnand_

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SEASONABLE SONNET.

(_By a Vegetarian._)

  Yes, Christmas overtakes us yet once more.
    The Cattle Show has vanished in the mists
    Of time and Islington, but re-exists
  In piecemeal splendour at the store.
  Here, nightly, big boys blue are to the fore
    With knives and choppers in their greasy fists;
    And now, methinks, the wight who never lists
  Yet hears the brass band on the proud first floor.
  High over all rings "What d'ye buy, buy, buy?"
    The meat is decked with gay rosette and bow,
    While gas-jets beckon all the world and wife.
  A cheerful scene? A ghastly one, say I,
    Where mutilated corpses hang arow,
    And in the midst of death we are in life.

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AS THEY LIKED IT.--We read of the recent success at Palmer's Theatre,
New York, of _As You Like It_, with all the parts played by women.
Of course, everybody knows that this was a complete reversal of the
practice of the stage in SHAKSPEARE'S own day, when the buskin was
on the other leg, so to speak; but we are not told if the passage
"Doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat" was
transposed to "Petticoat ought to show itself courageous to doublet
and hose."

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THIS SETTLED IT.--"He may be irritable," observed Mrs. R., "but
remember the old saying that 'Irritation is the sincerest form of
flattery.'"

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[Illustration: ALL IN THE DAY'S WORK.

_Critic._ "HOW'S THE _BOOK_ GOING, OLD MAN?"

_Author._ "OH--ALL RIGHT, I FANCY. THE PRESS HAS NOTICED IT ALREADY.
YESTERDAY'S _ROSELEAVES_ HAILS ME AS THE COMING _THACKERAY_!"

_Critic._ "AH, _I_ WROTE THAT!"

_Author._ "DID YOU REALLY? HOW CAN I THANK YOU? ON THE OTHER HAND,
THIS WEEK'S _KNACKER_ SAYS THAT I'VE BEEN FORTUNATELY ARRESTED BY
MADNESS ON THE ROAD TO IDIOTCY!"

_Critic._ "AH, I WROTE THAT TOO!"]

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A PLEA FOR PLEADINGS.

DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Last week I begged for a chance for the Briefless,
and the only reply has been, that by a few strokes of the pen the
Judges have ruined and undone the Junior Bar. On a day which will be
known henceforth in the Temple as Bad Friday, we read the new Rules,
by which in future it will be possible to have an action--_without
pleadings!_ Statement of Claim, Defence, Reply, Rejoinder--all
disappear into a beggarly "Summons for Directions," that can be drawn
by a solicitor's office-boy. Of course, amongst the silks, the change
will, no doubt, be popular. These learned gentlemen can with a light
heart and a heavy pocket welcome the change, which will get rid of the
pleadings which it is merely a nuisance to read. But what is to become
of us whose business it is to draw them?

It may possibly be said that this new arrangement will save the
pockets of the clients, but what have the Judges to do with that? Does
anyone imagine litigation to be anything more than a pastime, at which
those who play ought to be content to pay? In a hard winter, when the
wolf is consistently at our door, to take the bread out of our mouths
in this way, is a proceeding which (_pace_ Mr. GLADSTONE) takes the
cake. I am sure Mr. GOSCHEN will welcome such an expression. In any
case I appeal, Sir, through you, from the Judges to an enlightened
paying public.

    Yours faithfully,
        L. ERNED COUNSEL.

  102, _Temple Gardens, E.C.,_
           _Dec. 6._

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CAUSE AND EFFECT.--A razor and a _tabula rasa_.

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JOHN TYNDALL.

  BORN AUG. 21, 1820.
  DIED DEC. 4, 1893.

  HONEST JOHN TYNDALL, then, has played his part!
  Scientist brain, and patriotic heart
  Both still in the last sleep, that sadly came,
  Without reproach to love, or loss to fame.
  Rest, Son of Science, certain of your meed!
  Of bitter moan for you there is small need;
  But England bows in silent sympathy
  With her whose love, chance-wounded