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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: J. A. Hammerton
+
+Illustrator: Various
+
+Release Date: January 15, 2012 [EBook #38586]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Neville Allen, David Edwards and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+    MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR
+
+    Edited by J. A. HAMMERTON
+
+    Designed to provide in a series of volumes, each complete in
+    itself, the cream of our national humour, contributed by the
+    masters of comic draughtsmanship and the leading wits of the age to
+    "Punch," from its beginning in 1841 to the present day.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ONE OF NATURE'S GALLANTS. _Loafer (to fair occupant on
+her way to Court)._ "Ullo, Ethel! All alone?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR
+
+IN PICTURE AND STORY
+
+_WITH 133 ILLUSTRATIONS_
+
+  BY
+
+  PHIL MAY, CHARLES KEENE,
+  L. RAVEN-HILL, TOM BROWNE,
+  C. SHEPPERSON, E. T. REED,
+  BERNARD PARTRIDGE, J. A.
+  SHEPHERD, G. D. ARMOUR,
+  GEORGE DU MAURIER, AND
+  OTHERS
+
+[Illustration]
+
+PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH THE PROPRIETORS OF "PUNCH"
+
+THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR
+
+_Twenty-five volumes, crown 8vo, 192 pages, fully illustrated_
+
+  LIFE IN LONDON
+  COUNTRY LIFE
+  IN THE HIGHLANDS
+  SCOTTISH HUMOUR
+  IRISH HUMOUR
+  COCKNEY HUMOUR
+  IN SOCIETY
+  AFTER DINNER STORIES
+  IN BOHEMIA
+  AT THE PLAY
+  MR. PUNCH AT HOME
+  ON THE CONTINONG
+  RAILWAY BOOK
+  AT THE SEASIDE
+  MR. PUNCH AFLOAT
+  IN THE HUNTING FIELD
+  MR. PUNCH ON TOUR
+  WITH ROD AND GUN
+  MR. PUNCH AWHEEL
+  BOOK OF SPORTS
+  GOLF STORIES
+  IN WIG AND GOWN
+  ON THE WARPATH
+  BOOK OF LOVE
+  WITH THE CHILDREN
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration]
+
+EDITOR'S NOTE
+
+Cockney humour smacks, of course, of the town and makes up in smartness
+and shrewdness what it lacks in mellowness. The Cockney is as a rule a
+conscious humorist; you laugh _with_ him very often, whereas you nearly
+always laugh _at_ the rustic humorist.
+
+George Du Maurier concerned himself a good deal with Cockney character,
+but he was not in sympathy with the Cockney; generally he had an obvious
+contempt for him, and most of his jokes turn on the dropped H, the
+mispronounced word, and educational deficiencies. He portrays some of
+the Cockney's superficial characteristics; he despises him too much to
+be able to get at the heart of him and reveal his character.
+
+Take Phil May's pictures and jokes, and the difference is at once
+apparent. He was fully alive to the Cockney's deficiencies of manner and
+culture; now and then he quite genially and without the least touch of
+scorn or self-complacency makes fun of them; but he really gives you the
+Cockney character. Take, for instance, such a picture as his "Politics
+and Gallantry," his "I say, 'Arry, don't we look frights!" his "Informal
+Introduction"--(the self-consciousness of the girl's expression, and the
+blatant pride of the man's)--here, and in almost any of his drawings you
+turn to, you have the absolutely natural Cockney; his types are full of
+character and so true and free from condescension that not only are we
+moved irresistibly to laugh at them, but the Cockney himself would be
+the first to recognise their truth and to laugh joyously at them too. We
+may say pretty much the same of Charles Keene, of Mr. Raven-Hill, of Mr.
+Bernard Partridge, and of others of the "Punch" artists represented
+here, who illustrate the essential Cockney character, and do not go on
+the easy assumption that dropped H's and mispronounced words and
+aggressive vulgarity are the beginning and the end of it.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration]
+
+MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR
+
+"All's swell that ends swell," as 'Arry remarked when he purchased a
+pair of "misfits."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY AND 'ARRIET'S FAVOURITE ITALIAN POET.--'Ariosto.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MOTHER WIT.--_First Coster._ I say, Bill, wot's the meanin' o' Congress?
+
+_Second Coster._ A shee heel. Female of conger.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A LONDONER'S RURAL REFLECTION.--The Hayfield is better than the
+Haymarket.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY'S LAMENT
+
+"A public meeting was held at Hampstead last night to protest against
+the tampering with the Heath by tube railway promoters."--_Daily Paper._
+
+  Wot! Toobs on 'appy 'Amstid?
+    A stytion at _Jack Strors_?
+  I 'old the sime a bloomin' shim
+    An' clean agin the lors,
+      Leastwyes it oughter be--
+      If lors wos mide by me
+      No toobs yer wouldn't see
+        On 'appy 'Amstid.
+
+  Wy, wheer are we ter go, Liz,
+    Ter git a breath of air?
+  Yer'll set yer teeth agin the 'eath
+    When theer's a toob up there.
+      A pinky-yaller stytion
+      By wye o' deckyrytion--
+      I calls it desecrytion,
+        'Appy 'Amstid.
+
+  Oh! sive us 'appy 'Amstid!
+    It's Parrydise, you bet!
+  Theer ain't no smoke ter 'arm a bloke.
+    Nor yet no smuts as yet.
+      An' so I 'opes they'll tell
+      This bloomin' Yanky swell
+      Ter send 'is toobs ter--well,
+        Not 'appy 'Amstid!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE WILD WILD EAST
+
+_First Coster._ "Say, Bill, 'ow d'yer like my new kickseys? Good fit,
+eh?"
+
+_Second Coster._ "Fit! They ain't no _fit_. They're a _haper-plictick
+stroke_!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NOTE BY A COCKNEY NATURALIST
+
+The common blackbeetles (_Scarab�us niger_) which so abundantly infest
+the culinary regions of Cockaigne are alleged to be agreeable, although
+profuse, in flavour, provided they be delicately larded before crimping,
+and then fricasseed or simply fried. Care should specially be taken not
+to injure their antenn�, which, when crisp with egg and breadcrumbs,
+exquisitely tickle the palate of the gourmet, and provoke him to the
+liveliest of gastronomic feats. There lurks in vulgar minds a savage
+prejudice against these interesting insects, by reason, very likely, of
+the popular impression that at times they have been manufactured into
+Soy. But this may be assumed to be mere idle superstition, and Soyer,
+the great _chef_, wisely set his face against it, remarking, as he did
+so, "_Honi Soy qui mal y pense._"
+
+Among the warblers which abound in the vicinity of the metropolis, one
+of the most interesting is the little mudlark (_Alauda Greenwichiensis_)
+whose plaintive cry may nightly be heard upon the shore of the river,
+where these little creatures congregate in flocks, and pick up any grub
+which they may chance to meet with.
+
+Doubts have been entertained by sundry Cockney naturalists whether the
+pyramids of oyster shells, which in the early part of August used to be
+noticed in the streets, should be regarded as a proof of the migratory
+habits of the mollusc. That the oyster is a sluggard and objects to
+leave his bed seems pretty generally admitted; but that he is endowed
+with the power of locomotion has, fortunately for science, been placed
+beyond a doubt. Whether oysters shed their shells when they are crossed
+in love is a point on which the naturalist is still somewhat in the
+dark.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SELF-EVIDENT.--It must have been a cockney who said that St. Bees came
+from St. 'Ives.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A DEAD LETTER.--Too often H.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "I say, Bill, 'ere comes two champion doners! Let's kid
+'em 'at we're hofficers!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: EPSOM UP TO DATE.
+
+_'Arry._ "Ain't ye comin' to see the 'orse run for yer money?"
+
+_Cholley._ "Not me! No bloomin' fear! I'm goin' to see this cove don't
+run _with_ my money!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ROYAL ALBERT HALL
+
+  TO DAY AT 3 PATTI
+
+"I 'ear this 'ere Patti ain't _'arf_ bad!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "Would you gentlemen like to look at the old church?"
+
+"Ho, yus. We're _nuts_ on old churches!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Quoth an eminent literary man, in the hearing of 'Arry, "All George
+Meredith's poetry might be republished under one title as 'Our
+Georgics.'"
+
+"Oo's 'Icks'?" asked 'Arry.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"THE TEACHING OF ERSE IN IRELAND."--"Well," says 'Arry, "it sounds
+uncommon funereal. O' course I knew an erse and plumes and coal black
+'osses is what they call a 'moral lesson.' But why make such a fuss
+about it in Ireland?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AN AWKWARD NAME.--'Arry, on a marine excursion, hearing mention made of
+the two sea-birds the great auk and the little auk, inquired if the
+little auk was a sparrow-'awk.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"He is the greatest liar on (H)earth," as the Cockney said of the
+lap-dog he often saw lying before the fire.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE VERNACULAR.
+
+"Yer know that young Germin feller as come ter sty in our 'ouse six
+months agow? Well, w'en fust 'e come, I give yer my word'e didn' know
+nothink but 'is own lengwidge; but we bin learnin' 'im English, an' now
+e' can speak it puffick--jes' the sime as wot you an' me can."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+DINNER FOR THE H-LESS. GOOD EDUCATIONAL COURSE FOR AN UNEDUCATED
+COCKNEY.--An _aitch_-bone.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEYS AT ALDERSHOT.--_First Cockney._ "'Ere, 'Arry, where's the
+colonel?"
+
+_Second Cockney._ "The _colonel_, bless yer, 'e's in _an 'ut_."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HOUSEHOLD NOTE.--_(By a Cockney). What to do with cold mutton. H_eat
+it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEY CONUNDRUM.--Wot lake in Hengland's got the glassiest buzzum?
+
+Windermere.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FOR CIVES ROMANI.--The way to 'Ampton races?--The 'Appy 'Un (Appian) of
+course.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Bus Conductor._ "Emmersmith! Emmersmith! 'Ere ye are
+Emmersmith!"
+
+_Liza Ann._ "Oo er yer callin' Emmer Smith? Sorcy 'ound!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: POOR LETTER "A."
+
+"Do you sell type?"--"Type, sir? No, sir. This is an ironmonger's.
+You'll find type at the linendryper's over the w'y!"
+
+"I don't mean _tape_, man! _Type_, for _printing_!"
+
+"Oh, _toype_ yer mean! I beg yer pardon, sir!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: MYOPIA
+
+_Little Binks (to unsteady party who had lurched heavily against him)._
+"I beg your pardon, I'm sure, but I'm very short-sighted----"
+
+_Dissipated Stranger._ "Do' mensh't, shir--I've met goo' many shor'
+sight peopl'sh morn', bu' you're firsh gen'l'm'sh made 'shli'sht
+'pology!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR 'ARRY AGAIN!
+
+  'Arry _is at a hotel where the boarding system prevails, and sees the
+  following notice posted on the walls--"Breakfast, 9 a.m."_
+
+_'Arry (to Waiter)._ "Breakfast, and some 'am."
+
+_Waiter._ "We've no 'am."
+
+_'Arry._ "No 'am! _(Pointing to notice.)_ What's that?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_Says one 'Arry to another 'Arry._ "I say, old man, the papers say they
+'ope 1882 will be the openin' of a new era. What's that?"
+
+_Second 'Arry._ "Openin' of a new 'earer? Why, a telephone, of course,
+you juggins!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A SONG FOR COCKNEY SPORTSMEN
+
+  The hart's in the Highlands,
+    Of that there's no fear,
+  And 'tis there you may buy lands
+    For stalking the deer:
+  But the hills are no trifle,
+    And they're windy and cold,
+  So your wish you'd best stifle,
+    Or buy, and be--sold.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: GOOD NEWS
+
+_'Arry._ "T'aint no good miking a fuss about it, yer know, guv'nor! Me
+and my pals must 'ave our 'd'y out'!"
+
+_Foreign Fellow-traveller._ "Aha! Die out! You go to die out? Mon Dieu!
+I am vairy glad to 'ear it. It is time!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: FORCE OF HABIT; OR, CITY SUSPICIONS
+
+_'Arry (who is foraging for his camping party)._ "Look here, my good
+woman, are these cabbages fresh?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Little Dobbs._ "Hullo! what's that? Looks like a mowing
+machine."
+
+_Hairdresser (who does not appreciate "chaff")._ "No, sir, 'tain't a
+mowin' machine. It's meant to give gentlemen fresh _h_air."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: BITING SARCASM
+
+_Gentleman with the Broom (who has inadvertently splashed the artist's
+favourite shipwreck)._ "Ow yus! I suppose yer think ye're the president
+o' the Roy'l Acadermy! A settin' there in the lap er luxury!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: FOREIGN COMPETITION
+
+_British Habitual Criminal._ "Well, if these 'ere furrin aliens is
+a-goin' ter take the bread out of a honest man's mouth--blimey if I
+don't turn copper!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VERY APPROPRIATE.--Says 'Arry, "Regular good place for a medical man to
+live in is 'Ill Street, Berkeley Square. But why don't he cure it and
+make it Quite Well Street?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COMMENT BY A COCKNEY
+
+  Bad-Gastein! Sounds more fit than nice, and yet
+    They say most healing waters there are had.
+  Strange, though, that people fancy good to get
+    By going to the Bad!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'Arriet read from a daily paper, "Navigation in the Ouse." "I s'pose,"
+said 'Arry, "as the members are goin' to 'ave a 'ouse-boat this season.
+Which 'ouse? Hupper or lower? Whichever's to steer? The Speaker or Lord
+'Igh Chancellor?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TWO DISTINCT CLASSES.--The aristocracy and the '_Arry_-stocracy.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: WITHERING.
+
+_'Arry._ "I s'y--does one tip the witers 'ere?"
+
+_Alphonse._ "Not onless you are reecher zan ze vaiter, sare!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE BLESSED HERITAGE
+
+["Poverty is a blessed heritage."--_Mr. Carnegie._]
+
+  'Ere, Lizer, wheer's yer gratitood? 'E ses, ses Mr. C.,
+  As it's a blessed 'eritage, is poverty, ses 'e.
+  Then think 'ow thankful an' 'ow blest we oughter feel, us two,
+  But yet yer that contrairy that I'm blest, Liz, if yer do.
+
+  Wot? 'Ungry? Wot is 'unger? Don't it vary the monotony
+  An' Wooster sorce yer vittles, that's supposin' as yer've got any?
+  Then think of them pore millionaires wot misses the delight
+  Of 'avin' 'ad no breakfast on a roarin' happytite.
+
+  Then money! I Think, Elizer, of them cruel stocks and shares
+  Wot makes their lives a torter to them martyred millionaires
+  Oh, ain't we much more appy when the sticks is up the spout
+  An' the kids is wantin' dinner and 'as got ter go without?
+
+  And don't it make yer 'eart bleed, too, to think of all the care
+  Of mansions in the country and an 'ouse in Grosvenor Square?
+  Ah, what would them pore fellers give if honly they could come
+  An' live with all their fam'ly in our garret hup the slum?
+
+  Wot, Liz? Yer'd like ter see 'em come? 'Ere, none o' that theer charf!
+  Yer'd sell yer bloomin' birthright for a pot of 'arf-an-'arf?
+  Lor, Liz! Ter think as you should be in sich a thankless mood!
+  Yer've got a "blessed 'eritage," an' 'ere's yer gratitood!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY EXAMINED.--_Q._ "What is meant by 'Higher Education'"?
+
+_'Arry._ "Getting a tutor at so much a week. That's the way I should
+'ire education--if I wanted it."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+WHY HE IS SUCH A DULL BOY.
+
+"'Arry," said an eminent comic singer to his friend, confidentially at
+the Oxford, "I'm exclusively engaged at the music 'alls; mayn't perform
+in a theatre."
+
+"Then," replied 'Arry, knowingly, "it's all work and no play with you."
+
+The conclusion was so evident that, had it not been for a good deal of
+soothing syrup at 'Arry's expense, there might have been a serious
+breach of the peace.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Toff._ "I say, my boy, would you like to drive me to
+Piccadilly?"
+
+_Boy._ "I shouldn't mind, old sport, only I don't fink the 'arness would
+fit yer!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: IDDEN AND POOR LETTER H
+
+_Tout Contractor (who has been paid a shilling per man, and sees his way
+to a little extra profit)._ "Now look 'ere, you two H's! The public
+don't want yer--nor _I_ don't, nor nobody don't; so jist drop them
+boards, and then 'ook it!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OBSERVATIONS BY A COCKNEY NATURALIST
+
+A nightingale has been heard singing in Kensington Gardens (_vide
+Times_, April 19). A salmon has been seen swimming close to London
+Bridge. A trout has been observed (reposing on a marble slab) near to
+Charing Cross. Sticklebacks have been captured in the waters of the
+Serpentine. Plovers eggs have been discovered in the middle of Covent
+Garden: I myself have found there as many as two dozen in a single walk.
+There is a rookery in St. Giles's, well known to the police. I have seen
+a pigeon shot not far from Shepherd's Bush, and I have heard one has
+been plucked by a member of the hawk tribe at another West-End haunt.
+Blackbeetles are common in the back kitchens of Belgravia, and
+bluebottles abound among the butchers of Whitechapel during the warm
+months. There is another kind of fly, which is said to be indigenous to
+the stables of the jobmasters, and which also may be seen by observant
+Cockney naturalists, but less seldom in Whitechapel than near the
+Regent's Park. Sparrow-clubs have not been established yet in London,
+but pea-shooters are common in many of its streets. I am told that early
+risers may hear a male canary singing in the neighbourhood of Islington
+at four o'clock, A.M., and may also hear a cock crow any morning, except
+Sunday, between five and six o'clock. The thrush has been observed among
+sundry of the children, under medical inspection, in the nurseries and
+infant hospitals of town. Little ducks are plentiful in the _salons_ of
+Tyburnia, and in Bayswater and Brompton there are numbers of great
+geese. Welsh rabbits may be seen close to Covent Garden, and wild
+turkeys have been noticed even in the Strand, hanging by the beak. In
+the purlieus of St. Stephen's, where are the sacred haunts of the
+collective wisdom of the kingdom, I have heard the hootings of many an
+old owl. From information which I have received from members of the
+metropolitan police, I may assert that larks are common in the
+Haymarket, and that on the shores of the silver Thames at Wapping there
+is frequently observable a goodly flock of mudlarks. From similar
+information, I may add that there are careful observers in the streets
+who rarely pass a day without their setting their eyes upon a robbin'.
+Who shall say that in the very midst of the metropolis there is not
+abundant evidence of a truly rural, and a tooral-looral life?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NIGHT-BIRDS THAT MAKE WEST-END NIGHT HIDEOUS.--The 'owls of 'Arry after
+his larks.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CHARADE FOR COSTERMONGERS.--My first is unfathomable, my second
+odoriferous, and my whole is a people of Africa.--_Abyss-inians._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CONSOLATION FOR COCKNEYS.--It is all very well to talk of the fine
+boulevards of Paris; but in the French metropolis, where the rent is so
+high, and the living so dear, there is not one street to be named with
+Cheapside.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Arry (encountering a shut gate for the first time)._
+"Wonder which end the thing opens? Ah, 'ere y'are! 'Ere's the 'ooks an'
+eyes!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE BEAN HARVEST
+
+_Cockney Tourist._ "Tut-t-t! Good gracious! What ever can 'ave made the
+corn turn so black?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE EASTER VACATION.
+
+_Owner._ "Well, the poor old moke ain't been quite 'isself lately, so we
+thought a day in the country 'ud do im good!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MISTAKES ABOUT SCOTLAND
+
+_(Contributed by a Converted Cockney)_
+
+It is a mistake to believe that every Scotchman, when he goes to
+Edinburgh, immediately walks down Princes Street clad in the ancient
+costume of the Highlanders.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that the _pi�ce de r�sistance_ at every
+Scotch dinner-party is a haggis.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that a Scotchman does not enjoy a joke every
+bit as much as an Englishman.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that a Scotch Sabbath in the country is a
+whit more _triste_ than an English Sunday in the provinces.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that a Scotchman sets a greater value upon
+his "bawbee" than an Englishman upon his shilling or an American upon
+his dollar.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that inns in Scotland are dearer and less
+comfortable than hotels in England.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that we have a city in England that can
+compare favourably (from an architectural point of view) with the town
+of Edinburgh.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that it always rains in the Isle of Skye.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that there are no more "Fair Maids" in the
+houses of Perth.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that Hampstead Heath is as beautiful as
+Dunkeld.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that the Caledonian Canal is at all like the
+Serpentine.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that Aberdeen is less imposing in appearance
+than Chelsea or Islington.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that the countrymen of Scott and Burns do not
+appreciate the works of Shakspeare, Milton, Byron, Dickens, Thackeray,
+and Tennyson.
+
+And, lastly (this is added to the Cockney's list by the wisest sage of
+this or any other age), it is the greatest mistake of all to believe
+that _Mr. Punch_ does not like and respect (in spite of an occasional
+joke at their expense) the kindly, homely, sound-hearted people who live
+north of the Tweed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: AFTER THE RACES.
+
+_Little 'Arry (who has had a "bad day"--to driver of public coach)._
+"Ever lose any money backin' 'orses, coachie?"
+
+_Driver._ "Not 'alf! Lost twenty quid once--backed a pair of 'orses and
+a homnibus into a shop window in Regent Street!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Old Lady._ "Dear me, what a nice refined-looking little
+boy. Why, Jane, he has a mouth fit for a cherub; I really must give him
+sixpence."
+
+    [_Does so._
+
+_The Cherub (five seconds later)._ "S-s-s-s!! Billee! the old gal's give
+me a tanner!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BY OUR COCKNEY
+
+When is a yew tree not a yew tree? When it's a 'igh tree.
+
+Talking of that, _Mr. P._, what a nice line the Great Northern to
+Hedgware is, to be sure. I am, as you know, werry partickler about my
+"H"s, but "'ang me," as my friend 'Arry Belleville says, "if t'ain't
+'nough to spoil your pronunshiashun for a hage and hall time to 'ave to
+'ear such names of stations one atop of tother, as the followin', as
+called out by the porters an' guards:"
+
+  'Olloway.
+  Seven Scissors Road.
+  Crouch Hend.
+  'Ighgate and 'Ampstead.
+  Heast Hend.
+  Finchley and 'Endon.
+  Mill 'Ill.
+  Hedgware.
+
+There's a lot for you! And t'other line goes to 'Arford, 'Atfield, and
+Saint All-buns. Saint _All Buns_ would be a good feast, eh, sir?
+
+  Yours,
+
+    _Hivy 'Ouse, 'Oxton._
+
+      ENERY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First Combatant._ "----!----!----! &c."
+
+_Bystander._ "Why don't yer answer 'im back?"
+
+_Second Combatant._ "'Ow can I? 'E's used all the best words!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A COCKNEY RHAPSODY
+
+    [A critic in the _Daily News_ accuses artists generally of
+    ignorance in their treatment of rural subjects, and declares that
+    nearly every picture of work in the hay or harvest field is
+      incorrect.]
+
+  Come revel with me in the country's delights,
+  Its rapturous pleasures, its marvellous sights;
+  No landscape of common or garden I praise,
+  But Nature's strange charms that the painter pourtrays.
+
+  No summer begins there, and spring never ends,
+  It mingles with autumn, with winter it blends;
+  Its primroses bloom when the barley is ripe,
+  Amid its red apples the nightingales pipe.
+
+  There often the shadow falls southward at noon,
+  And sunrise is hailed by the pale crescent moon,
+  The sun sets at will in the east or the west,
+  In the grove where the cuckoo is building her nest.
+
+  There the milkmaid sits down to the left of the cow,
+  In harvest they sow, and in haytime they plough;
+  While mowers, in attitudes gladsome and blythe,
+  Impossible antics perform with the scythe.
+
+  There huntsmen in June after foxes may roam,
+  And horses unbridled go champing with foam;
+  From torrents by winter fierce swollen and high,
+  The proud salmon leaps in pursuit of the fly.
+
+  Ah Nature! it's little--I own for my part--
+  I know of your face save as mirrored in art;
+  Yet, vainly shall critics begrudge me that charm,
+  For a fellow can paint without learning to farm.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: BETHNAL GREEN.
+
+_East-Ender._ "'Ary Scheffer!' Hignorant fellers, these foreigners Bill!
+Spells 'Enery without the haitch!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OVERHEARD AT A MEETING OF THE UP-IN-A-BALLOON SOCIETY.
+
+_'Arry._ Wot's the difference between Nelson and that cove in the chair?
+
+_Charlie._ Give it up, mate.
+
+_'Arry._ Wy, _Nelson_ was a nautical 'ero, and this chap's a _'ero
+nautical_, to be sure.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY 'AD--FOR ONCE.--SCENE--_Exterior of St. James's Hall on a Schumann
+and Joachim Night._
+
+_'Arry (meeting High-Art Musical Friend, who has come out during an
+interval, after assisting at Madame Schumann's magnificent reception)._
+'Ullo! What's up? What are they at now?
+
+_High-Art Friend (consulting programme)._ Let me see. They've done "Op.
+13." Ah, yes! They've just got to "Op. 44."
+
+_'Arry (astounded)._ 'Op forty-four! St. James's 'All got a dancin'
+licence! Hooray! I'm all there! I'll go in for 'Op forty-five. What is
+it, a waltz or a polka?
+
+    [_Rushes to the pay-place._]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "RUDE AM I IN MY SPEECH" (OTHELLO)
+
+THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWER GIRLS]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE COMPLAINT OF THE COCKNEY CLERK
+
+    "I know of no cure but for the Englishman (1) to do his best to
+    compete in the particulars where the German now excels; (2) to try
+    to show that, taken all round, he is worth more than the
+    German."--_Mr. Gladstone on English Clerks and German Competition._
+
+  All very fine, O orator illustrious!
+    But I as soon would be a mole or merman,
+  As a short-grubbing, horribly industrious,
+            Linguistic German.
+
+  A clerk's a clerk, that is a cove who scribbles
+    All day, and then goes in for cue, and "jigger,"
+  And not a mere machine who feeds by nibbles,
+            Slaves like a nigger.
+
+  Learn languages? And for two quid a week?
+    Cut barmaids, billiards, bitter beer and betting?
+  Yah! that may suit a sausage, or a sneak!
+            Whistles need wetting.
+
+  That is if they are genuine English whistles,
+    And not dry, hoarse, yah-yah Teutonic throttles.
+  _I_'m not a donkey who can thrive on thistles.
+            No, that's "no bottles."
+
+  I've learned my native tongue,--and that's a teaser--
+    I've also learned a lot of slang and patter;
+  But German, French, Italian, Portuguese, sir,
+            For "screw" no fatter?
+
+  Not me, my old exuberant wood-chopper!
+    Level _me_ to the straw-haired Carls and Hermanns?
+  No; there's another trick would do me proper,--
+            Kick out the Germans!
+
+  Old Bismarck's "blood and iron's" a receipt meant
+    For sour-krautt gobblers, sandy and sardonic!
+  But for us Britons that Teutonic treatment
+            Is much too tonic.
+
+  The cheek of 'em just puts me in a rage,
+    Send 'em back home, ah! even pay their passage
+  Or soon, by Jove, we'll have to call our age,
+            The German "sauce"-age!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: AN INFORMAL INTRODUCTION.
+
+_'Arry (shouting across the street to his "Pal")._ "Hi! Bill! This is
+'er!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "ON A CLIFF BY THE SEA"
+
+    (_Whit Monday_)
+
+  A verse for "'Arry"? Well, I'm shot!
+    (Excuse my language plain and terse)
+  For such a nuisance I have not
+            A verse.
+
+  His praise don't ask me to rehearse,
+    But, if you like--I'll tell you what--
+  The _r�le_ of Baalam I'll reverse.
+
+  Only, like Balak, from this spot
+    Desire me 'Arry's tribe to curse,
+  To grant that prayer you'll find me not
+            Averse!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Arriet._ "Wot toime his the next troine fer
+'Ammersmith?" _Clerk._ "Due now."
+
+_'Arriet._ "'Course Oi dawn't now, stoopid, or I wouldn't be harskin'
+yer!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY IN ROME AND LONDON
+
+A kind correspondent calls _Mr. Punch's_ attention to the fact that
+'Arry the ubiquitous crops up even in the classics as Arrius, in fact,
+in _Carmen_ lxxxiv. of Catullus. How proud 'Arry will be to hear of his
+classical prototype! Our correspondent "dropping into verse,"
+exclaims:--
+
+  Yes! Your Cockney is eternal;
+    Arrius speaks in 'Arry still;
+  Vaunts 'is "hincome" by paternal
+    "Hartful" tricks hup 'Olborn 'Ill.
+
+     How well he is justified may be seen by a glance at the text of
+        Catullus:--
+
+        DE ARRIO.
+
+  "C_h_ommoda" dicebat, si quando commoda vellet
+    Dicere, et "_h_indsidias" Arrius insidias:
+  Et tum mirifice sperabat se esse locutum.
+    Cum, quantum poterat, dixerat "_h_insidias."
+  Credo, sic mater, sic Liber avunculus ejus.
+    Sic maternus avus dixerit, atque avia.
+
+                               Catullus, _Carmen_ lxxxiv.
+
+    Which--for the benefit of 'Arry himself, who is not perhaps
+    familiar with the "Lingo Romano"--though he may know something of a
+    "Romano" dear to certain young sportsmen, though not dearer to
+    them than other caterers--may thus be _very_ freely  adapted:--
+
+  'Arry to _H_oxford gives the aspirate still
+  He cruelly denies to 'Igate 'Ill;
+  Yet deems in diction he can ape the "swell,"
+  And "git the 'ang of it" exceeding well.
+  Doubtless his sire, the 'atter, and his mother,
+  The hupper 'ousemaid, so addressed each other;
+  For spite of all that wrangling Board Schools teach,
+  There seems heredity in Cockney speech.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COMMERCIAL INTELLIGENCE.--According to a trade circular issued by a
+Cockney company, Florence and Lucca, whence the finer description of
+oils have been heretofore imported, are threatened with a vigorous
+competition by the Iles of Greece.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE RICHEST DISH IN THE WORLD.--The "weal" of fortune.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY'S MOTTO.--"Youth on the prowl and pleasure at the 'elm."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Lady._ "Half-a-crown, indeed! Your fare is
+eighteen-pence. I looked it up in Bradshaw."
+
+_Cabman._ "Well, to be sure! Wot a good wife you _would 'ave_ made for a
+pore man!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: BACK TO THE LAND.
+
+_Farmer's Wife (who has told the new lad from London to collect eggs)._
+"Well, Jack, have you got many?"
+
+_Jack (who has raided a sitting hen)._ "Rauther! One old 'en she's bin
+and layed thirteen, and I don't think she's finished yet!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LINES BY A COCKNEY
+
+_Addressed to A Young Lady, but dropped by some mistake into Mr. Punch's
+letter-box._
+
+  Sweet hangel, whom I met last heve
+    Hat Mrs. Harthur's 'op,
+  I 'ope that you will give me leave
+    A question now to pop.
+
+  I mind me 'ow when in the 'all
+    Your carriage was hannounced,
+  You hasked me to hadjust your shawl,
+    Hon which with 'aste I pounced.
+
+  Then heager to your Ma you ran,
+    She anxious to be gone,
+  I 'eard 'er call you Mary-Hann,
+    Or helse 'twas Mari-hon.
+
+  Now, Mary-Hann's a name I 'ate
+    Has much as Betsy-Jane,
+  I could not bear to link my fate
+    With such a 'orrid name;
+
+  But Mari-hon I like as well
+    As hany name I know;
+  Then, hangel, I emplore thee tell,
+    Dost spell it with a Ho?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: POLITICS AND GALLANTRY
+
+_First 'Arry._ "Hay, wot's this 'ere Rosebery a torkin' abaat? Bless'd
+if he ain't a goin' to do awy with the Lords!"
+
+_Second 'Arry (more of a Don Juan than a Politician)._ "Do awy with the
+'ole bloomin' lot o' Lords, if he likes, as long as he don't do away
+with the lidies!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "AND _SHE_ OUGHT TO KNOW!"
+
+"That's supposed to be a portograph of Lady Solsbury. But, bless yer, it
+ain't like her a bit in private!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: 'ARRY'S AUNT UPON THE CLIFF
+
+A study in perspective done by 'Arry with a 'and camera.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ECHO'S ANSWERS
+
+  _To a Cockney Inquirer who consults her concerning the inevitable Annual
+  "Outing" and its probable issues._
+
+_Inquirer._ What subject sets me worrying and doubting?
+
+_Echo. "Outing._"
+
+_Inquirer._ My wife suggests for family health's improving?--
+
+_Echo. Roving._
+
+_Inquirer._ What's the first requisite for taking pleasure?
+
+_Echo. Leisure._
+
+_Inquirer._ The second (for a slave to matrimony)?
+
+_Echo. Money._
+
+_Inquirer._ You say that woman of all founts of mischief--
+
+_Echo. Is chief._
+
+_Inquirer._ What is this close agreement of _my_ women?
+
+_Echo. Omen._
+
+_Inquirer._ I fear for me they'll prove a deal too clever?
+
+_Echo. Ever._
+
+_Inquirer._ What is the manner of my buxom Mary?
+
+_Echo. Airy._
+
+_Inquirer._ And what's her goal in every hint and notion?
+
+_Echo. Ocean._
+
+_Inquirer._ How recommends she Ramsgate, shrimpy, sandy?
+
+_Echo. 'Andy._
+
+_Inquirer._ Whereas _I_ hold it at this season torrid?--
+
+_Echo. 'Orrid!_
+
+_Inquirer._ And hint, with a faint view to scare or stop her?--
+
+_Echo. 'Opper!_
+
+_Inquirer._ (Meaning the _Pulex_.) Answers she politely?
+
+_Echo. Lightly._
+
+_Inquirer._ How then am I inclined to view the mater?
+
+_Echo. 'Ate her._
+
+_Inquirer._ What feel I when she hints at sea-side clothing?
+
+_Echo. Loathing._
+
+_Inquirer._ Mention of what makes all my family scoffers?
+
+_Echo. Coffers._
+
+_Inquirer._ Then if I storm, what word breaks sequent stillness?
+
+_Echo. Illness!_
+
+_Inquirer._ What feels a man when women 'gin to blubber?
+
+_Echo. Lubber._
+
+_Inquirer._ What is the show of patience that may follow?
+
+_Echo. Hollow!_
+
+_Inquirer._ What would the sex when it assumes that virtue?
+
+_Echo. Hurt you._
+
+_Inquirer._ What's the result of halting and misgiving?
+
+_Echo. Giving._
+
+_Inquirer._ What is man's share anent this yearly yearning?
+
+_Echo. Earning._
+
+_Inquirer._ What's the chief issue of this seaward flowing?
+
+_Echo. Owing._
+
+_Inquirer_. How long before I'm free of tradesmen's pages?
+
+_Echo. Ages!_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE MOORS.
+
+Our Cockney correspondent says that the birds are very wild, and that
+the heath being extremely slippery, the attempt to run after them is apt
+to be attended with numerous falls, especially in patent-leather boots.
+He says the exercise is fatiguing in the extreme, and complains that
+there are no cabs to be had on the hills though there are plenty of
+flies.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+DOUBLE COCKNEY CONUNDRUM FOR THE DERBY DAY.--"What eminent composer
+would in England have probably been 'in the ring'?"
+
+"_'Aydn._"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because who ever 'eard of 'Aydn alone? Ain't it always a '_Aydn and
+abettin_'? Eh? Now then! Come up, can't yer!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: EUPHEMISM.
+
+_Cab Tout (exasperated by the persistent attentions of constable)._
+"Look 'ere, ole lightnin'-ketcher, w'ere the missin' word are yer
+shovin' us to?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Coster (to acquaintance, who has been away for some
+months)._ "Wot are yer bin doin' all this time?"
+
+_(Bill Robbins who has been "doing time")._ "Oh I've bin wheelin' a
+bit, ole man--wheelin' a bit!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: HE THOUGHT HE WAS SAFE.
+
+_Irascible Old Gentleman._ "Buy a comb! What the devil should I buy a
+comb for? You don't see any hair on my head, do you?"
+
+_Unlicensed Hawker._ "Lor' bless yer, sir!--yer don't want no 'air on
+yer 'ead for a tooth-comb!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A QUESTION OF TASTE
+
+_Liz (to Emily)._ "Mind yer, it's all roight so fur as it goes. All I
+sez is, it wants a fevver or two, or a bit o' plush somewhares, to give
+it what I call _stoyle_!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE LAND OF THE 'ARRY'UNS.--'Am'stead 'eath.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When a vulgar husband drops his h's, a good wife drops her eyes.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE SNOW CURE!!
+
+_Fiendish Little Boy (to elderly gentleman, who has come a cropper for
+the fourth time in a hundred yards)._ "'Ere I say, guv'nor, you're fair
+wallerin' in it this mornin'! H'anyone 'ud think as you'd bin hordered
+it by your medical man!!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: OPEN TO DOUBT
+
+_Ostler (dubiously, to 'Arry, who is trying to mount on the wrong
+side)._ "Beg pard'n, sir, I suppose you're quite accustomed to 'osses,
+sir?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NOTES BY A COCKNEY NATURALIST
+
+There are various kinds of larks to be observed by Cockney naturalists,
+which are more or less, and rather less than more, indigenous to London.
+There is first of all the cage lark (_Alauda Miserrima_) which is
+chiefly found on grass-plats measuring about two inches square, and may
+be heard singing plaintively in many a back slum. Then there is the mud
+lark (_Alauda Greenwichiensis_), which is principally seen towards
+nightfall on the shores of the river, when the whitebait is in season.
+This little lark is a migratory bird, and flits from place to place in
+quest of anything worth picking up that may happen to be thrown to it.
+Finally, there is the street lark (_Alauda Nocturna_), which is known to
+most policemen in the neighbourhood of the Haymarket, and the like
+nocturnal haunts.
+
+As a gratifying proof of our progressing civilisation, there has been of
+recent years a very marked decrease in the number of white mice, and
+monkeys dressed as soldiers, exhibited by organ-grinders in the London
+streets. Trained dogs appear, however, decidedly more numerous, and
+performing canaries may be met with not infrequently in the squares of
+the West End. The naturalist should note, moreover, that the learned
+British pig (_Porcus Sapiens Britannicus_) which, within the memory of
+men who are still living, used commonly to infest the fairs near the
+metropolis, has recently well nigh completely disappeared and is
+believed by sundry naturalists to be utterly extinct.
+
+The rum shrub (_Shrubbus Curiosus_) which, although deserving of close
+investigation has somehow escaped mention in the pages of Linn�us, is
+found in great profusion in the purlieus of Whitechapel, as well as
+other parts of London where dram-drinkers do congregate. It may be
+generally discovered in proximity to the Pot-tree (_Arbor
+Pewteriferens_), which may be readily recognised by its metallic fruit.
+
+The common cat of the metropolis (_Felis Catterwaulans_) is remarkable,
+especially for the exceeding frequency and shrillness of its cries when
+it goes upon the tiles, or proceeds to other spots of feline popular
+resort. Sleep becomes impossible within earshot of its yellings, and the
+injury they cause to property as well as human temper is immense. It
+has, indeed, been roughly estimated that thirty thousand water-jugs are
+annually sacrificed, within a circuit of not more than six miles from
+St. Paul's, by being hurled from bedroom windows with the aim to stop
+these squalling feline "Voices of the night."
+
+A certain proof that oysters are amphibious may be noted in the fact
+that they always build their grottoes in the courts and the back streets
+of the metropolis where, in the month of August, with extravagant
+profusion, their shells are yearly cast.
+
+The scarlet-coated lobster (_Le Homard Militaire_, Cuvier) has been
+frequently discovered on the shores of the Serpentine, or basking by the
+margin of the water in St. James's Park. This crustacean, when treated
+well, will drink like a fish, excepting that, unlike a fish, he does not
+confine himself to water for his drink. His shell (jacket) is of a
+bright red colour, which is not produced, as in the lobster species
+generally, by the agency of the caloric in the act of being boiled. The
+scarlet-coated lobster leads, while in London, a very peaceful life,
+notwithstanding his presumed propensities for fighting.
+
+If we may credit the statistics which, with no slight labour, have been
+recently collected, no fewer than five million and eleven blue-bottles
+are annually slaughtered in the butchers' shops of London, before
+depositing their ova in the primest joints of meat. The number of the
+smaller flies which, merely in the City, are every year destroyed for
+buzzing round the bald heads of irritable bank clerks, amounts, it has
+been calculated, to one million three hundred thousand and thirteen.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FROM TAPLOW.--_First 'Arry._ I'll tell you a good name for a riverside
+inn--_"The Av-a-launch"._
+
+_Second 'Arry._ I'll tell you a better--"The 'Ave-a-lunch." Come along!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "Did yer order any ile round the corner?"
+
+"What do you mean by ile? Do you mean oil?"
+
+"Naw. Not ile, but ILE wot yer drinks!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A QUESTION OF THE SENSES.
+
+_First County Councillor._ "I'm told the _acoustics_ of this hall leave
+much to be desired, Mr. Brown!"
+
+_Second C. C. (delicately sniffing)._ "Indeed, Sir Pompey? Can't say as
+I perceive anythink amiss, myself; and my nose is pretty sharp, too!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: QUICK WORK.
+
+_Guttersnipe._ "Please muvver wants sixpence on this 'ere fryin' pan."
+
+_Pawnbroker._ "Hallo! it's _hot_!"
+
+_Guttersnipe._ "Yus, muvver's just cooked the sossidges, an' wants the
+money for the beer!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: WE MUSTN'T ALWAYS JUDGE BY APPEARANCES.
+
+"I say, Bill, you aren't got such a thing as the price of 'arf a pint
+about you, are yer? I'm so blooming dry!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Philanthropic Coster' (who has been crying
+"Perry-wink-wink-wink!" till he's hoarse--and no buyers)._ "I wonder
+what the p'or unfort'nate creeters in these 'ere low neighb'r'oods do
+live on!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: RUDE INQUIRY
+
+_Street Arabs._ "Hoo curls yer 'air, gov'nour?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: BILLINGSGATE UP-TO-DATE.
+
+_'Enery._ "'Ullo, Chawley? Wot's up? 'As yer motor broke down?"
+
+_Chawley (whose "moke" is a "bit below himself")._ "Yuss, smashed me
+'sparking plug.'"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First "Growler"._ "'Ulloah, William, where are yer
+takin' that little lot?"
+
+_Second "Growler"._ "Hararat! Don't yer see I'm navigatin' the Hark?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Arriet._ "I will say this for Bill, 'e _do_ look the
+gentleman!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First Urchin._ "Fifth o' November, sir! Only a copper,
+sir! Jist a penny, sir!"
+
+_Second Urchin._ "Let 'im alone. _Cawn't yer see 'e's one of the
+family!_"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SONGS FOR THE NATION
+
+"[Greek: Lays are a luxury songs essential.]"
+
+    _'Arrystophanes._
+
+
+It is evident that the nation is yearning for singable songs in the
+'Arry dialect. The late lamented Artemus Ward would probably have said,
+"Let her yearn"; but a stern sense of duty impels me to try and meet the
+need, created by the _Daily Chronicle_. I have a comforting impression
+that all that is necessary to insure correctness is to "chinge" as many
+"a"s as possible into "i"s. By this means I secure the "local
+colouring," which, by the way, has undergone a complete change since
+Dickens spelt Weller "with a wee, my lord." A catchword, � propos of
+nothing, is always useful, so I have duly provided it.
+
+        'ARRY THE OPTIMIST
+
+                  I.
+    Oh! you should see
+    My gal and me
+  (Mariar is 'er nime),
+    When we go daown
+    To Brighton taown
+  To 'ave a gorjus time.
+
+  She wears sich feathers in 'er 'at,
+    She's beautiful and guy,
+  But it ain't all beer and skittles--flat
+    And 'ere's the reason why:
+  _Refrine--_
+    She 'urries me, she worries me,
+      To ketch the bloomin' trine;
+    She 'ustles me, she bustles me,
+      She grumbles 'arf the time:
+    It's "'Arry do," and "'Arry don't,"
+    Which "'Arry" will, or "'Arry" won't
+      (It goes against the grine),
+    But--
+  (_Triumphantly._)
+        We 'as a 'appy 'ollidy,
+    We gets there all the sime.
+        --'Urry up, 'Arry.
+
+
+                 II.
+
+          And when we reach
+          The Brighton beach
+        It's sure to pour with rine
+          A pub is not
+          A 'appy spot
+        For us to set and drine
+  Yet there we set and tike our beer
+    And while awy the dy,
+  Though we don't 'ave words, no bloomin' fear
+    Mariar 'as 'er sy.
+  _Refrine--_
+    'Er langwidge is for sangwidges,
+      She's sorry that she cime;
+        The weather's wrong, 'er feather's wrong,
+          I 'as to tike the blime.
+        It's "'Arry" 'ere, and "'Arry" there,
+        And "'Arry, you're a bloomin' bear,"
+          And "'Arry, it's a shime"--
+  (_Spoken._)--Which is 'ard on a feller! And then we 'as
+  to ketch the bloomin' trine again, and she _do_ talk, but
+  never mind--
+        (_Brightly._)
+          We've 'ad a 'appy 'ollidy,
+        We gits 'ome all the sime.
+          --'Urry up, 'Arry!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEY SPORT EXTRAORDINARY.
+
+Well-known sporting character, residing at Putney, being unable to reach
+the moors this season, and having lost his gun, has lately amused
+himself by bringing down several brace of grouse by means of the
+Brompton omnibus.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AT THE ZOO. (A FACT).--_'Arriet (looking at the Java sparrows)._ Wot's
+them? Sparrerkeets?
+
+_'Arry._ Sparrerkeets be 'anged--them's live 'umming birds.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: COMMON OBJECTS OF THE SEA SHORE.
+
+_First seaside saddle polisher._ "Wot cheer, 'Arry? 'Ow are yer gettin'
+on?"
+
+_'Arry._ "First-rate, old pal. Only this--beggar always--bumps--at the
+wrong--time!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: UNDER CORRECTION.
+
+Fare. "Hans Mansions."
+
+_Cabby._ "_Queen_ Hanne's Mansions, I suppose you mean, miss?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "Penny 'addick."
+
+"Finen?"
+
+"No; thick 'un!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First Frenchman._ "Ah, mon cher ami!"
+
+_Second Frenchman._ "Ah, c'est mon cher Alphonse!"
+
+_British Workman._ "Bloomin' Germans!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Clerk of Booking-Office._ "There is _no_ first class by
+this train, sir." _'Arry._ "Then wot are we going ter do, Bill?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "Fader's gettin' better. 'E's beginnin' ter swear
+again!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Vendor of Pirated Songs._ "Er y'are, lidy! ''Oly City',
+'Bu'ful Star,' 'Hi cawn't think why Hi lubs yer, but Hi do!'"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY ON HIS 'OLIDAY
+
+_Being an epistle from that notorious and ubiquitous person, luxuriating
+for the time in rural parts, to his chum Charlie, confined in town._
+
+  Wha' cheer, my dear Charlie? 'Ow are yer? I promised I'd drop yer
+      a line.
+  I'm out on the trot for a fortnit; and ain't it golumpshusly fine?
+  Bin dooing the swell pretty proper, I beg to assure yer, old man.
+  Jest go it tip-top while you're at it, and blow the expense, is
+      _my_ plan.
+
+  Bin took for a nob, and no error this time; which my tailor's A 1.
+  The cut of these bags, sir, beats Poole _out of_ fits. (Are yer fly
+      to the pun?)
+  And this gridiron pattern in treacle and mustard is something uneek,
+  As the girls--but there, Charlie, _you_ know me, and so there's no
+      call for to speak.
+
+  My merstach is a coming on proper--that fetches 'em, Charlie, my boy;
+  Though one on 'em called me young spiky, which doubtless was meant
+      to annoy.
+  But, bless yer! 'twas only a touch of the green-eyed, 'acos I looked
+      sweet
+  On a tidy young parcel in pink as 'ung out in the very same street.
+
+  O Charlie, such larks as I'm 'aving. To toddle about on the sands,
+  And watch the blue beauties a-bathing, and spot the sick muffs as
+      they lands,
+  Awful flabby and white in the gills, and with hoptics so sheepishly
+      sad,
+  And twig 'em go green as we chaff 'em; I tell yer it isn't half bad.
+
+  Then, s'rimps! Wy, I pooty near lives on 'em; got arf a pocketful
+      here,
+  There's a flavour of bird's-eye about 'em; but that's soon took off
+      by the beer.
+  The "bitter" round here is jest lummy, and as for their soda-and-b.,
+  It's ekal to "fizz" and no error, and suits this small child to a t.
+
+  The weeds as I've blown is a caution;--I'm nuts on a tuppenny smoke.
+  Don't care for the baths, but there's sailing, and rollicking rides
+      on a moke.
+  I've sung comic songs on the cliffs after dark, and wot's fun if
+      that ain't?
+  And I've chiselled my name in a church on the cheek of a rummy stone
+      saint.
+
+  So, Charlie, I think you will see, I've been doing the tourist
+      to rights.
+  Good grub and prime larks in the daytime, and billiards and bitter
+      at nights;
+  That's wot _I_ calls 'oliday-making, my pippin. I wish _you_ was here,
+  Jest wouldn't we go it extensive! But now I am off for the pier.
+
+  To ogle the girls. 'Ow they likes it! though some of their dragons
+      looks blue.
+  But lor'! if a chap _has_ a way with the sex, what the doose can
+      he do?
+  The toffs may look thunder and tommy on me and my spicey rig out,
+  But they don't stare yours faithfully down, an' it's all nasty envy,
+      no doubt.
+
+  Ta! ta! There's a boat coming in, and the sea has been roughish
+      all day;
+  All our fellows will be on the watch, and _I_ mustn't be out of
+      the way.
+  Carn't yer manige to run down on Sunday? I tell yer it's larks,
+      and no kid!
+                      Yours bloomingly,
+                                            'ARRY.
+
+    P.S.--I have parted with close on four quid!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+POISON IN THE BOWL.--_Hot weather._--Advice by our own Cockney. Don't
+put ice in your champagne. It's pison. How do I know this? Because it
+comes from Venom Lake.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SEASONABLE.--_'Arry's friend._ What's the proper dinner for Ash
+Wednesday?
+
+_'Arry._ Why, 'ash mutton, o' course.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: SELF-RESPECT.
+
+_The Missus._ "Oh, Jem, you said you'd give me your photergrarf. Now,
+let's go in, and get it done."
+
+_Jem._ "Oh, I dessay! an' 'ave my 'Carte de Wisete' stuck up in the
+winder along o' all these 'ere bally-gals an' 'igh-church parsons! No,
+Sairey!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE TRIALS OF OUR ARTISTIC FRIEND, LEONARDO DA TOMPKINS
+
+(_Who lives in an unappreciative Suburb_)
+
+_'Arriet (nudging her lidy friend, and in an ostentatious
+stage-whisper)._ "'Amlet!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Tenor (singing)._ "Oh, 'appy, 'appy, 'appy be thy
+dreams----"
+
+_Professor._ "Stop, stop! Why don't you sound the H?"
+
+_Tenor._ "It don't go no 'igher than G!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First Newspaper Boy._ "Hullo, Bill! Who's 'e?"
+
+_Second Newspaper Boy._ "I suppose 'e's the North Pole as 'as just been
+discovered!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Gorgeous-looking Individual._ "Most 'strordinary
+weather, ain't it? First it's 'ot, then it's cold. Blow me, if one knows
+'ow to dress!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "I say, Bill, wot 's a Prodigal?"
+
+"Why, a Prodigal's a sort o' cove as keeps on coming back!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: NOT WHAT SHE EXPECTED
+
+SCENE--_Canal side, Sunday morning_
+
+_Lady._ "Do you know where little boys go to who bathe on Sunday?"
+
+_First Arab._ "Yus. It's farder up the canal side. But you can't go.
+Girls ain't allowed!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY ON 'APPINESS
+
+DEAR CHARLIE,
+
+        A 'Appy New Year to yer! That's the straight tip for to-day,
+  So I'm bound to be in it, old chip, though things don't _look_
+      remarkable gay.
+  I inclose you a card--a correct one, I 'ope, though it strikes one
+      as queer
+  That such picters is thought _apprypo_ this perticular time of the
+      year.
+
+  You'll observe there's a hangel in muslin a twisting 'erself all awry,
+  With some plums, happle-blossoms, and marigolds, backed by a dab
+      o' blue sky.
+  Dekkyrative it's called, so the mivvy informed me who nobbled
+      my tanner;
+  _I_ call it a little bit mixed, like the art on a Odd-Fellow's
+      banner.
+
+  But, bless you, it's all of a piece, Charlie--life is so muddled
+      with rot
+  That it takes rayther more than a judge or a jury to tell yer
+      wot's wot.
+  Whether knifing a boy 'cos one's peckish means murder if lyings are
+      libels,
+  Seem questions as bothers the big wigs, in spite of their blue books
+      and Bibles.
+
+  Where are we, old pal? that's the question. Perhaps it would add to
+      one's ease
+  If life wos declared a "mixed wobble," it's motter a "go as you
+      please."
+  But 'tisn't all cinder-path, Charlie, wus luck! if it was, with
+      "all in,"
+  You wouldn't go fur wrong, I fancy, in backing "yours truly" to win.
+
+  "A 'Appy New Year!" That's the cackle all over the shop like to-day.
+  Wot's 'Appiness? Praps Mister Ruskin and little Lord Garmoyle will say.
+  You an' me's got _our_ notions of yum-yum, as isn't fur wide
+      o' the mark,
+  But who'll give us change for 'em, Charlie? Ah! that's where we're
+      left in the dark.
+
+  The Reform Bill won't do it, my pippin, on that you may lay your
+      last dollar.
+  The fact is this 'Appy New Year fake is 'oller, mate, hutterly 'oller.
+  'Twon't fly--like the Christmas card hangels, it doesn't fit into
+      the facks;
+  All it does is to spread tommy-rot, and to break all the postmen's
+      poor backs.
+
+  You'll be thinking I've got the blue-mouldies, old man, and you
+      won't be fur hout.
+  Funds low with yours truly, my bloater, no chances of getting about.
+  Larks, any amount of 'em, going, advertisements gassing like fun,
+  But 'Arry, for once in the way, 's a stone-broker and not in the run.
+
+  It's cutting, that's wot it is, _cutting_. I'm so used to leading
+      the field,
+  That place as fust-fly at life's fences is one as I _don't_ like
+      to yield,
+  Espechly to one like Bill Blossit--no style, not a bit about Bill!
+  And they talk of a 'Appy New Year, mate, and cackle o' peace
+      and goodwill!
+
+  Oh yus, I'd goodwill 'em, Bill Blossit and false Fanny Friswell, a lot!
+  They are off to the world's fair to-night, sir, and _that's_ wy I
+      say it's such rot.
+  If form such as mine's to go 'obbling whilst mugginses win out
+      o' sight,
+  I say the world's handicap's wrong, mate, and Christmas cards won't
+      set it right.
+
+  Lor bless yer, 'e ain't got no patter, not more than a nutmeg,
+      Bill ain't;
+  But the railway has taken his shop, and he's come out as fresh as
+      new paint.
+  And so because _I'm_ out of luck, and that duffer has landed the chink,
+  She 'ooks onto him _like_ a bat to a belfry, sir! What do _you_ think?
+
+  A 'Appy New Year? Yus, it looks like it! Charlie, old chap, I've
+      heard tell
+  Of parties called pessymists, writers as swear the whole world's
+      a big sell;
+  No doubt they've bin jilted, or jockeyed by some such a juggins
+      as Bill;
+  And without real jam--cash and kisses--this world is a bitterish
+      pill.
+
+  Still, I wish you a 'Appy New Year, if you care for the kibosh,
+      old chappie,
+  Though 'taint 'igh art cards full o' gush and green paint'll make
+      you and me 'appy.
+  Wot _we_ want is lucre and larks, love and lotion as much as you'll
+      carry!
+  Give me them, and one slap at that Bill,--They're the new year
+      gifts to suit.
+
+       'ARRY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AT SCARBOROUGH.--_'Arriet (pointing to postillions of pony-chaises)._
+Why do all them boys wear them jackets?
+
+_'Arry._ There's a stoopid question! Why, they're all jockeys a-training
+for the Ledger, of course!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+EGGING HIM ON.--_Knowing old Gentleman._ Now, sir, talking of eggs, can
+you tell me where a ship lays to?
+
+_Smart Youth (not in the least disconcerted)._ Don't know, sir, unless
+it is in the hatchway.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+RETREAT FOR COCKNEY IDLERS.--Earn nil.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: AN EASTER OBJECT LESSON
+
+(_At the Natural History Museum_)
+
+_Visitor._ "Hullo! I say, I've got 'em agin! Gi' me the blue ribbon!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: HIS BEST "SOOT."
+
+_Short-tempered Gentleman in Black (after violent collision with a
+stonemason fresh from work)._ "Now, I'll arsk you jest to look at the
+narsty beastly mess as you've gone and mide me in! Why, I'm simply
+smothered in some 'orrid white stuff!! Why don't yer be more
+careful!!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: OVERHEARD DURING ONE OF OUR RECENT STORMY DAYS.
+
+"What cheer, matey! Doin' any business?"
+
+"Garn! Wot yer gettin' at? I ain't 'ere to do business. I'm takin' the
+hopen hair treatment!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ALWAYS BE KIND TO DUMB ANIMALS.
+
+_Master._ "Jim!"
+
+_Page._ "Yessir."
+
+_Master._ "Rather a 'igh 'ill we're comin' to, ain't it?"
+
+_Page._ "Very 'igh 'ill indeed, sir."
+
+_Master._ "Ah! well, jest you jump down, Jim, and walk alongside a bit;
+it'll make it easier for the poor 'orse, you know."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: REAL SYMPATHY.
+
+_'Arry (reading account of the war in the East)._ "Ow, I s'y, 'Arriet,
+they've bin an' took old Li 'Ung Chang's three-heyed peacock's feathers
+all off 'im!"
+
+_'Arriet (compassionately)._ "Pore old feller!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "SWEET LAVENDER!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "AUT C�SAR AUT NULLUS."
+
+_Architect._ "What aspect would you like, Mr. Smithers?" _(who is about
+to build a house)_.
+
+_Mr. Smithers._ "Has Muggles"--(_a rival tradesman_)--"got a haspect?
+'Cause--mind yer, I should like mine made a good deal bigger than
+'is!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE LAST STRAW.
+
+_Miss Effie has left her sun-shade on the other side of the rivulet. The
+chivalrous young De Korme attempts the dangerous pass in order to
+restore it to her.
+
+Obnoxiously Festive 'Arry (to him)._ "Ho, yuss! Delighted, I'm sure!
+_Drop in any time you're passin'!_"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY ON THE MERRY MONTH OF MAY
+
+    DEAR CHARLIE,
+
+  'Ow are yer, old Turmuts? Gone mouldy, or moon-struck, or wot?
+  Sticking down in the country, like you do, I tell yer, is all
+      tommy-rot.
+  Its town makes a man of one, Charlie, as me and the nobs 'as found out,
+  And a snide 'un like you should be fly to it. Carn't fancy wot you're
+      about.
+
+  Old Ruskin, I know, sez quite t'other, but then _he_ is clean off his
+      chump.
+  Where's the _life_ in long lanes, with no gas-lamps? Their smell
+      always give me the 'ump.
+  Come hout on it, mate, it'll spile yer. It's May, and the season's
+      begun,
+  All the toffs is in town--ah! you trust 'em! _they_ know where
+      to dropon the fun.
+
+  Don't ketch _them_ a-Maying, my pippin, like bloomin' old
+      Jacks-in-the-Green,
+  A-sloppin' about in damp medders, with never a pub to be seen.
+  No fear! We've primroses in tons--thanks to Beakey--for them as
+      can pay.
+  And other larks as _is_ larks, mate, they know meet in London in May.
+
+  It is all very well, on a Sunday, for just arf a dozen or so
+  To take a chay-cart down to Epsom, and cut down the may as yer go.
+  I've 'ad 'igh old times on that lay, Charlie, gals, don't yer know,
+      and all that,
+  Returning at dusk with the beer on, and may branches all round yer 'at.
+
+  With plenty of tuppenny smokes and 'am san'wiches, Charlie, old man,
+  And a bit of good goods in pink musling, it ain't arf a bad sort
+      o' plan.
+  Concertina, in course, and tin whistle, to give 'em a rouser all round,
+  And "chorus," all over the shop, till the winders'll shake at
+      the sound.
+
+  That's "May, merry May," if yer like, mate, and does your's ancetrar
+      a treat.
+  But the rural's a dose as wants mixing, it won't do to swaller it neat;
+  That's wy the Haristos and 'Arry, and all as is fly to wot's wot,
+  Likes passing the season in London, in spite of yer poetry rot.
+
+  Country's all jolly fine in the autumn, with plenty of killing about--
+  Day's rabbitin's not a bad barney, and gull-potting's lummy, no doubt;
+  But green fields with nothink to slorter, no pubs, no theaytres,
+      no gas!--
+  No, no, it won't wash, and the muggins as tells yer it will is a hass.
+
+  But May in "the village," my biffin, the mighty metrolopus,--ah!
+  That's paradise, sir, and no kid, with a dash of the true lah-di-dah.
+  Covent Garden licks Eden, I reckon, at least it'll do _me_ A 1;
+  Button-'oler and Bond Street, old pal, that's yer fair top-row
+      sarmple for fun!
+
+  Wy, we git all the best of the country in London, with dollups
+      chucked in.
+  _Rush in herby!_--ascuse the Hitalian!--Ah, mate, ony wish I'd
+      the tin;
+  I'd take 'em a trot, and no flounders! It's 'ard, bloomin' 'ard,
+      my dear boy,
+  When form as is form ain't no fling, as a German ud say,
+      _fo der quoy._
+
+  _I_'d make Mister Ruskin sit up, and the rest of the 'owlers see
+      snakes,
+  With their rot about old Mother Nature, as _never_ don't make no
+      mistakes.
+  Yah! Nature's a fraud and a fizzle, that is if yer can't fake her
+      out
+  With the taste of a man about town, ony sort as knows wot he 's
+      about.
+
+  Well, London's all yum-yum jest now. Hexhibitions all hover the shop,
+  I tell yer it keeps one a-movin'. _I_'m on the perpetual 'op,
+  Like the prince. Aitch har aitch _is_ a stayer, a fair royal Rowell,
+      I say.
+  (I landed a quid on _that_ "Mix," but I carnt git the beggar to pay.)
+
+  "Inventories" open, you know. Rayther dry, but the _extrys_ O.K.
+  It's the extrys, I 'old, make up life, arf the pleasure and most o'
+     the pay.
+  Yus, princes and painters, philanterpists, premiers and patriots may
+      gush,
+  But wot ud become of their shows if it weren't for the larks and the
+      lush?
+
+ Lor bless yer, dear boy, picter galleries, balls, sandwich sworries
+     and all,--
+ It's fun and the fizz makes 'em go, not the picter, the speech or
+     the squall.
+ Keep yer eye on the buffet's my maxim, look out for the "jam" and
+     the laugh,
+ And you'll collar the pick o' the basket, the rest is all sordust
+     and chaff.
+
+  That's philosophy, Charlie, my pippin; the parsons and prigs may
+      demur,
+  But if you would foller _their_ tip, wy, you'll 'ave to go
+      thundering fur.
+  Ah! "May, merry May!" up in town, fills your snide 'un as full as
+      he'll carry
+  Of laughter and lotion. That's gospel to toffs and yours
+      scrumptiously,
+
+      'ARRY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A JUDGE OF CHARACTER.
+
+_Sympathetic Friend (to sweeper)._ "What's the use o' arstin' _'im_,
+Bill? _'E_ don't give away nothink less than a Gover'ment appointment,
+_'e_ don't!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A BI-METALLISTIC DISCUSSION
+
+_Jim._ "What's this 'ere 'Bi-metallism,' Bill?"
+
+_Bill (of superior intelligence)._ "Well, yer see, Jim, it 's heither a
+licens'd wittlers' or a teetotal dodge. The wages'll be paid in silver,
+and no more coppers. So you can't get no arf-pint nor hanythink under a
+sixpence or a thrip'ny. Then you heither leaves it alone, and takes to
+water like a duck, or you runs up a score."
+
+_Jim._ "Ah! But if there ain't no more coppers, 'ow about the 'buses and
+the hunderground rileway?"
+
+_Bill (profoundly)._ "Ah!"
+
+    [_Left sitting._
+
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Cockney Macbeth (a trifle "fluffy" in his words) bellows
+out:_ "'Ang out our banners on the houtward walls! The cry is--'Let 'em
+_all_ come!'"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Hedwin._ "Hangeleener! Won't yer 'ear me? Wot 'ud yer sy
+if I told yer as I'd 'took the shillin'?"
+
+_Hangelina._ "Sy? Why--'halves'!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Man Cleaning the Horse._ "Naa then lazy, w'y don't yer
+do some work?"
+
+_New Hand (loafing)._ "I'm agoin' to."
+
+_M. C. H._ "Wot are yer goin' ter do?"
+
+_N. H._ "'Elp you."
+
+_M. C. H._ "Come alorng, then."
+
+_N. H._ "All rite. You go orn, I'm agoin' ter do the 'issing."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "BACK TO THE LAND."
+
+_Old Farmer Worsell (who is experimenting with unemployed from London)._
+"Now then, young feller, 'ow long are you goin' to be with that 'ere
+milk?"
+
+_Young Feller._ "I caunt 'elp it, guv'nor. I bin watchin' 'er arf an
+hour, and she ain't laid any yit."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "'Ere, just 'old my broom a minute. I'm just goin' up the
+street. If any of my regular customers comes, just arst 'em to wait a
+bit!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ART IN WHITECHAPEL.
+
+"Well, that's what I calls a himpossible persition to get yerself
+into!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Loafer (looking at a hundred pound dressing-bag)._ "I
+wonder wot sort of a bloke it is as wants a bag of tools like that to
+doss 'isself up with?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "Comin' up to 'Yde Park to 'ave a bave, 'Arry?"
+
+"Yers--an' 'ave all me cloves run orf wiv. Not if _I_ know it!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE COCKNEY'S ADDRESS TO THE SEA.--"With all thy faults I love thee
+_still_."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A COSTERMONGER'S CANT
+
+  Bill Coster said, "See them two fish?
+    Them there's both females, mister;
+  A pilchard she in this here dish:
+    That 'ere's her errin' sister."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS.--(_By a Cockney._) Why should not Dr. Watts'
+poems be read by youth?
+
+Because they contain _Hymn-morality_.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A LINE FROM BROWNING
+
+(_For hairdressers who recommend a wonderful "Restorative," and are
+careless of the aspirate._)
+
+"An everlasting wash of air."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A COCKNEY CON.--When may a man really be supposed to be hungry?
+
+When he goes to Nor-(gnaw)wood for his dinner.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: SO VERY CONSIDERATE.
+
+_Stout Coster._ "Where are ye goin' to, Bill?"
+
+_Bill._ "Inter the country for a nice drive, bein' Bank 'Olidy."
+
+_Stout Coster._ "Same 'ere. I sy! don't yer think we might swop misseses
+just for a few hours? It would be so much kinder to the hanimile!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Arry (whose "Old Dutch" has been shopping, and has kept
+him waiting a considerable time)._ "Wot d'yer mean, keepin' me standin'
+abaat 'ere like a bloomin' fool?"
+
+_'Arriet._ "_I_ can't 'elp the way yer stand, 'Arry."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: VERY DRY WEATHER.
+
+"'Ooray, Bill! 'Ere's luck! I gorr' 'nother tanner! Leshgobackag'in!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: 'EARD ON 'AMPSTEAD 'EATH
+
+----"And talk of our bein' be'ind the French in general edication, why
+all I can say is as it's the commonest thing in Paree, for instance
+(over fust-class restorongs, too, mind yer), to see 'dinner' spelt with
+only one 'N'!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: DIAGNOSIS.
+
+"I can tell you what _you're_ suffering from, my good fellow! You're
+suffering from _acne_!"
+
+"_'Ackney?_ Why, that's just what _t'other_ medical gent he told me! _I
+only wish I'd never been near the place!_"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE CAD'S CALENDAR
+
+  JANUARY.
+
+  January! Tailor's bill comes in.
+  Blow that blooming snip! I'm short o' tin.
+  Werry much enjoyed my Autumn caper,
+  But three quid fifteen do look queer paper.
+  Want another new rig out, wuss luck,
+  Gurl at Boodle's bar seems awful struck,
+  Like to take her to the pantermime;
+  That and oysters after _would_ be prime.
+  Fan's a screamer; this top coat would blue it,
+  Yaller at the seams, black ink won't do it.
+  Wonder if old snip would spring another?
+  Boots, too, rayther seedy; beastly bother!
+  Lots o' larks that empty pockets "queer."
+  Can't do much on fifty quid a year.
+
+  FEBRUARY.
+
+  Febrywary! High old time for sprees!
+  Now's yer chance the gals to please or tease,
+  Dowds to guy and pooty ones to wheedle,
+  And to give all rival chaps the needle.
+  Crab your enemies,--I've got a many,
+  You can pot 'em proper for a penny.
+  My! Them walentines do 'it 'em 'ot.
+  Fust-rate fun; I always buy a lot.
+  Prigs complain they're spiteful,
+      Lor' wot stuff!
+  I can't ever get 'em strong enough.
+  Safe too; no one twigs your little spree,
+  If you do it on the strict Q. T.
+  If you're spoons, a flowery one's your plan.
+  Mem: I sent a proper one to Fan.
+
+  MARCH.
+
+  March! I'm nuts upon a windy day,
+  Gurls do git in such a awful way.
+  Petticoats yer know, and pooty feet;
+  Hair all flying--tell you it's a treat.
+  Pancake day. Don't like 'em--flabby, tough,
+  Rayther do a pennorth o' plum-duff.
+  Seediness shows up as Spring advances,
+  Ah! the gurls do lead us pretty dances.
+  Days a-lengthening.
+      Think I spotted Fan
+  Casting sheep's eyes at another man.
+  Quarter-day, too, no more chance of tick.
+  Fancy I shall 'ave to cut my stick.
+  Got the doldrums dreadful, that is clear.
+  Two _d._ left--must go and do a beer.
+
+
+  APRIL.
+
+  April! All Fools' Day's a proper time.
+  Cop old gurls and guy old buffers prime.
+  Scissors! don't they goggle and look blue
+  When you land them with a regular "do"?
+  Lor! the world would not be worth a mivvey
+  If there warn't no fools to cheek and chivy.
+  Then comes Easter. Got some coin in 'and,
+  Trot a bonnet out and do the grand.
+  Fan all flounce and flower; fellows mad
+  Heye us henvious; nuts to me, my lad.
+  'Ampstead! 'Ampton! Which is it to be?
+  Fan--no flat--prefers the Crystal P.
+  Nobby togs, high jinks, and lots o' lotion,
+  That's the style to go it, I've a notion!
+
+  MAY.
+
+  May! The month o' flowers. Spooney sell!
+  "Rum 'ot with," is wot _I_ likes to smell.
+  Beats yer roses holler. A chice weed
+  Licks all flowers that ever run to seed.
+  Nobby button'oler very well
+  When one wants to do the 'eavy swell;
+  Otherwise don't care not one brass farden,
+  For the best ever blowed in Covent Garden.
+  Fan, though, likes 'em, cost a pretty pile,
+  Rayther stiff, a tanner for a smile.
+  Blued ten bob last time I took 'er out,
+  Left my silver ticker up the spout.
+  Women are sech sharks! If I don't drop 'er.
+  Guess that I shall come a hawful cropper!
+
+  JUNE.
+
+  June! A jolly month; sech stunning weather.
+  Fan and I have lots of outs together:
+  Rorty on the river, sech prime 'unts,
+  Foul the racers, run into the punts.
+  Prime to 'ear the anglers rave and cuss,
+  When in quiet "swims" we raise a muss.
+  Snack on someone's lawn upon the quiet.
+  Won't the owner raise a tidy riot
+  When he twigs our scraps and broken bottles?
+  Cheaper this than rustyrongs or hottles,
+  Whitsuntide 'ud be a lot more gay
+  If it warn't so near to quarter-day.
+  Snip turns sour, pulls "county-courting" faces.
+  Must try and land a little on the races.
+
+  JULY.
+
+  'Ot July! Just nicked a handy fiver
+  (Twenty-five to one on old "Screw-driver"!)
+  New rig-out. This mustard colour mixture
+  Suits me nobby. Fan appears a fixture.
+  Gurls like style, you know, and colour ketches 'em,
+  But good show of ochre,--_that's_ what fetches 'em,
+  Wimbledon! _I'm_ not a Wolunteer.
+  Discipline don't suit this child--no fear!
+  But we 'ave fine capers at the camp,
+  Proper, but for that confounded scamp:
+  Punched my 'ead because I guyed his shooting.
+  Fan I fancied rather 'ighfaluting;
+  Ogled the big beggar as he propped me.
+  Would 'a licked 'im if _she_ 'adn't stopped me.
+
+  AUGUST.
+
+  August! Time to think about my outing.
+  No dibs yet, though, so it's no use shouting.
+  Make the best of the Bank 'Oliday.
+  Fan "engaged"! Don't look too bloomin' gay,
+  Drop into the bar to do a beer,
+  Twig her talking to that Volunteer.
+  Sling my 'ook instanter sharp and short,
+  Took Jemimer down to 'Ampton Court.
+  Not 'arf bad, that gurl. Got rather screwed,
+  Little toff complained as I was rude.
+  'It 'im in the wind, he went like death;
+  Weak, consumptive cove and short o' breath.
+  Licked 'im proper, dropped 'im like a shot,--
+  Only wish that Fan had seen _that_ lot.
+
+  SEPTEMBER.
+
+  'Ere's September! 'Oliday at last!
+  Off to Margit--mean to go it fast.
+  Mustard-coloured togs still fresh as paint,
+  Like to know who's natty, if _I_ ain't.
+  Got three quid; have cried a go with Fan,
+  Game to spend my money like a man.
+  But sticking tight to one gal ain't no fun--
+  Here's no end of prime 'uns on the run;
+  Carn't resist me somehow, togs and tile
+  All A 1--make even swell ones smile.
+  Lor! if I'd the ochre, make no doubt
+  I could cut no end of big pots out.
+  Call me cad? When money's in the game,
+  Cad and swell are pooty much the same.
+
+  OCTOBER.
+
+  Now October! Back again to collar,
+  Funds run low, reduced to last 'arf-dollar.
+  Snip on rampage, boots a getting thin,
+  'Ave to try the turf to raise some tin.
+  Evenings getting gloomy; high old games;
+  Music 'alls! Look up the taking names.
+  Proper swells them pros.! If I'd my choice,
+  There's my mark. Just wish I'd got a voice;
+  Cut the old den to-morrow, lots of cham.,
+  Cabs and diamonds,--ain't that real jam?
+  Got the straight tip for the Siezerwitch,
+  If I _honly_ land it, I'll be rich.
+  Guess next mornin' wouldn't find me sober--
+  Allays get the blues about October.
+
+  NOVEMBER.
+
+  Dull November! Didn't land that lot.
+  Fear my father's son is going to pot.
+  Fan jest passed me, turned away 'er eyes,
+  Guess she ranked me with the _other_ guys,
+  Nobby larks upon the ninth, my joker;
+  But it queers a chap to want the ochre.
+  Nothing like a crowd for regular sprees,
+  Ain't it fine to do a rush, and squeeze?
+  Twig the women fainting! Oh, it's proper!
+  Bonnet buffers when the blooming copper
+  Can't get near yer nohow. Then the fogs!
+  Rare old time for regular jolly dogs.
+  If a chap's a genuine 'ot member,
+  He _can_ keep the game up in November!
+
+  DECEMBER.
+
+  Dun December! Dismal, dingy, dirty.
+  Still short commons--makes a chap feel shirty.
+  Snip rampageous, drops a regular summons.
+  Fan gets married; ah! them gurls is rum 'uns!
+  After all the coin I squandered on 'er!
+  Want it now. A 'eap too bad, 'pon honour,
+  Snow! Ah, that's yer sort, though, and no error.
+  Treat to twig the women scud in terror.
+  Hot 'un in the eye for that old feller;
+  Cold 'un down 'is neck, bust his umbreller.
+  Ha! ha! Then Christmas,--'ave a jolly feast!
+  The boss will drop a tip,--hope so, at least.
+  If I don't land some tin, my look-out's queer.
+  Well, let's drink, boys--"Better luck next year!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: STUDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE.
+
+The chick-a-leary cochin.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Swell (who won't be done)._ "H 'yars my kyard if
+you'd--ah--like to summon me."
+
+_Cabby (who has pulled up and heard the dispute)._ "Don't you take it,
+Bill. It's his ticket o' leave!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A LABOUR OF LOVE!
+
+_Benevolent Lady (who has with infinite trouble organised a country
+excursion for some over-worked London dressmakers)._ "Then mind you're
+at the station at nine to-morrow, Eliza. I do hope it won't rain!"
+
+"_Rine_, miss! I 'owp not, to be sure! The country's bad enough when
+it's _foine_, yn't it, miss?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ON EPSOM DOWNS
+
+"Get onto 'is neck, like me, Halfred, an' they'll take us for jockeys!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Little Tompkins._ "That fellow Brown tried to stuff me
+up with some of his travellers' tales the other day. Talked about his
+trip to Italy, and the waving fields of macaroni, but he didn't catch
+me, you know. They _don't_ wave!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: GUILE.
+
+_Old Lady._ "You know the 'Royal Oak'? Well, you turn to the right, past
+the 'Jolly Gardener,' till you come to the 'Red Lion'----"
+
+_Artful Cabby._ "O, don't tell me the 'ouses, mum! Name some o' the
+churches, and then I shall know where I am!!"
+
+    [_Asks, and gets, an exorbitant fare without a murmur._
+
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+RUS IN URBE
+
+(_A Cockney Rhapsody_)
+
+  As I stroll through Piccadilly,
+  Scent of blossoms borne from Scilly
+  Greet me. Jonquil, rose, and lily,
+  Violet and daffydowndilly.
+  Oh, the feeling sweet and thrilly
+  That these blossoms flounced and frilly
+  From soft plains and headlands hilly
+  Bring my breast in Piccadilly!
+  It subdues me, willy nilly,
+  Though such sentiment seems silly,
+  And a bunch, dear, buys your Willy,
+  To dispatch, by post, to Milly,
+  Dwelling, far from Piccadilly,
+  In moist lowlands, rushed and rilly,
+  Blossomy as Penzance or Scilly.
+  Sweets to the sweet! "Poor Silly-Billy!"
+  You may say in accents trilly.
+  When the postman in the stilly
+  Eve, from distant Piccadilly,
+  Bears this box of rose and lily,
+  Violet and daffodilly,
+  To the rural maiden, Milly,
+  From her urban lover,
+                           Willy.
+
+  P.S.--
+
+      Dry as toke and skilly,
+  Is this arid Piccadilly,
+  Notwithstanding rose and lily,
+  All the beauteous blooms of Scilly,
+  Reft of that flower of flowers--Milly.
+  So, at least, thinks
+                      "Silly Billy."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A COCKNEY'S EXCLAMATION UPON SEEING THE CELEBRATED HEIDELBERG
+TON.--"Well, it is (s)ton-ning!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: NATURAL HISTORY NOTES
+
+_Country Cousin._ "Lor, Bill, ain't that a horstrich?"
+
+_Bill._ "_Horstrich?_ 'Corse not. That 'ere's a _mongoose_!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SHAKESPEARE ON BLACKHEATH
+
+  I saw young 'Arry with his billycock on,
+  Checked trousers on his thighs, with knob stick armed,
+  Climb from the ground like fat pig up a pole,
+  And flop with such sore toil into his saddle,
+  As though a bran-bag dropped down from the clouds,
+  To turn and wind a slow "Jerusalem,"
+  And shock the world with clumsy assmanship.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY'S LATEST CONUNDRUM.--Why is a title-page like charity?--Becos it
+always begins a tome. (Begins at 'ome, don'tcher see!)
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Cockney Friend._ "Good 'evins! there's a pheasant!"
+
+_Country Friend._ "Well, what of it?"
+
+_Cockney._ "Why, it ain't the fust of Hoctober?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Lady Visitor (at work-girls' club, giving some advice on
+manners)._ "And you know ladies never speak to gentlemen without an
+introduction."
+
+_'Liza._ "We knows yer don't, miss, an' we offen pities yer!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: AN IDYLL
+
+_Hemma._ "Oh, 'Arry, hain't this 'eavenly! You'll promise to give me 'am
+sandwiches always, when we're married, won't yer?"
+
+_'Arry._ "'Corse I will!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First Workman._ "Why don't yer buy yer _own_ matches,
+'stead of always cadgin' mine?"
+
+_Second Workman._ "You're uncommon mean with yer matches. I'll just take
+a few"--(_helps himself to two-thirds_)--"and be hinderpendent of yer!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ERRAND BOYS
+
+_First Boy._ "Where are yer goin' to, Bill?"
+
+_Second Boy._ "I've got to go right over 'Ammersmith Bridge to Barnes,
+then I'se got to go to Putney and back by Fulham Road, then to 'Igh
+Street, Kensington."
+
+_First Boy._ "Why, I've got to go to 'Igh Street. You go on. I'm in a
+bit of a hurry, but _I'll wait for yer_!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MOST MUSICAL, MOST MELANCHOLY.--A Cockney gentleman who had been hearing
+a concert of old music, where every piece that was performed was in the
+programme termed an "op.," observed, as he went out, "Well, after all
+these 'ops, I vote we have some malt."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEYISM IN THE COUNTRY.--_1st Cockney._ I say, what sort of a 'ouse
+will do for a fowl-'ouse?
+
+_2nd Cockney._ Lor' bless yer, _hen_-ny 'ouse.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CONUNDRUM FOR COCKNEYS.--Which has the greater amount of animal heat,
+the beaver or the otter? Why, of course, the _otter_ of the two.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SONG OF THE COCKNEY SPORTSMAN
+
+  How happy could I be in heather,
+    At the grouse gaily blazing away!
+  But then, somehow, I can't touch a feather,
+    So 'tis better at Brighton to stay.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+PRO BONO.--There is one first-rate joint that comes to table which is
+the Cockney's prime aversion--the h-bone.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A MODEL MODEL.
+
+(_The artist is rather shy, and has left his model to do the honours of
+his studio._) "From whom did Mr. M'Gilp paint that head?"
+
+"From yours obediently, madam. I sit for the 'eads of all 'is 'oly men."
+
+"He must find you a very useful person."
+
+"Yes, madam. I order his frames, stretch his canvases, wash his brushes,
+set his palette, and mix his colours. All _he's_ got to do is just to
+_shove 'em on!_"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Tripper._ "'Ere! 'Arf a mo'! Where's the change out o'
+that bob I gave yer?"
+
+_Bystander._ "Don't worry about it, cocky; ain't you got the bloomin'
+'oss as security!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Holiday Driver (returning from a pic-nic)._ "Excuse me,
+sir, but can you see anything wrong with the 'arness of this 'ere
+'orse?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SPORTSMEN AT SEA.
+
+_(Tom exhibiting a tern which he has shot)._ I say, 'Arry, wot bird 's
+this 'ere?
+
+_'Arry._ A auk, I should say.
+
+_Tom._ What yer calls a sparrerawk?
+
+_'Arry._ No. Hay, u, k, auk, without the sparrer.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A COCKNEY'S EPITAPH
+
+  THINK! "From the cradle to the grave!" my brother,
+  A nurse takes you from one, an 'earse to t'other.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A VULGAR ERROR.--Misplacing the haspirate.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A CHEVALIERESQUE CONUNDRUM.--_Coster Bill (to 'Arriet)._ I si! When is
+your young man like a fish out of water?
+
+_'Arriet._ Oh, g'long! Give't up.
+
+_Coster Bill._ Why, when 'es a _witin'_ round the corner.
+
+    [Short encounter, and exeunt severally.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A CAPITAL ANSWER.
+
+_"Self-made" Man (examining school, of which he is a manager)._ "Now,
+boy, what's the capital of 'Olland?"
+
+_Boy._ "An 'H,' sir."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+DISCOVERED IN DRURY LANE
+
+(_Near the new Baker Street Lodging House established by the County
+Council._)
+
+  I 'old it true wote'er befall,
+    I feel it when things go most cross,
+    Better do a fi'penny doss,
+  Than never do a doss at all!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+UNIVERSITY SYMPATHY.
+
+_First Errand Boy (after the University Boat Race)._ Wot 'ave yer got a
+light blue ribbon in yer button 'ole for, Tommy?
+
+_Second E. B. (promptly)._ 'Cos our 'ouse allus sells Cambridge
+sausages!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A MATTER OF TASTE.
+
+_Vulgar Parvenu (who is watching the interior decorations of his
+house)._ "Don't you think that tapestry 'eats the rooms?"
+
+_Artistic Decorator._ "Very possibly, sir; you see, it's Goblin
+(_Gobelin_)."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE IRREPRESSIBLE.
+
+_Street Boy (to cabby, in a block)._ "Look 'ere, are you a goin' on wi'
+this four wheeler?--'r else me an' my friend'll get down an' walk!"
+
+    [_Retires hastily._
+
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AUDACIOUS 'ARRYISM.--Our friend 'Arry objects to the title of a recently
+published novel, "Airy Fairy Lilian." He says that he can't imagine a
+fairy all over 'air, though he might an 'obgoblin.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE BAGMAN'S BAG
+
+  Hark how the cockney sportsman drops
+    His aitches o'er the glades and glens,
+  But, at hen pheasents though he pops,
+    Your 'Arry never drops his n's.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A PAIR OF "NIPPERS."--A coster's twins.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEY CLASSICS.
+
+"Jack," said Robins, "which varsity would you rayther go to, Hoxford or
+'Idleberg?"
+
+"Hoxford, Jemmy, to be sure, you muff," answered Robbins. "'Cos vy, I
+prefers hindustry to hidleness."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A BANK HOLIDAY REMINISCENCE.
+
+_'Arry._ "Ow much an hour, guv'nor?"
+
+_Horsekeeper._ "Eighteenpence."
+
+_'Arry._ "All right. I'll have a ride."
+
+_Horsekeeper._ "Well, you've got to leave 'arf a crown on the 'orse?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: POOR LETTER "H"
+
+"Have you got any _whole_ strawberry jam?"
+
+"No, miss. All ours is quite new!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: SONGS OF THE SUMMER
+
+"The weather seems to be improving, Nupkins!"
+
+"Yes, miss; the nightingale and the cuckoo is a-'ollerin', every
+night!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY ON 'ORSEBACK
+
+  Our 'Arry goes 'unting and sings with a will,
+  "The 'orn of the 'unter is 'eard on the 'ill";
+  And oft, when a saddle looks terribly bare,
+  The 'eels of our 'Arry are seen in the air!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEY EPITAPH FOR A COOK.--"Peace to his hashes."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"A Horse," observed a Scotch vet., "may have a very good appetite, and
+yet be unable to eat a bit."
+
+"Ah," said 'Arry, "there's the difference between a 'oss and a ostridge,
+which could eat bit, snaffle, curb and all."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LE SPORT.
+
+A Cockney sportsman, wishing to introduce hare-hunting into France, is
+seriously meditating a work on the subject, to be entitled,
+_Arri�re-pens�es_; _or, Thoughts on Keeping 'Ariers_. His _nom de plume_
+will be _Le petit Jean du_ Jockey Club.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Arriet (as a bee alights on her hand)._
+"My word, 'Arry, wot a pretty fly!"
+
+(_Sting._)
+
+"Crikey! ain't 'is feet 'ot!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "'Ullo, Jim, look 'ere! 'Ere's a noo stachoo! Lend us yer
+knife!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Jinks._ "I want to buy a dog. I don't know what they
+call the breed, but it is something the shape of a greyhound, with a
+short curly tail and rough hair. Do you keep dogs like that?"
+
+_Fancier._ "No. I drowns 'em!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEY PHILOSOPHY.
+
+The Socratic mode of argument is the only true mode of chopping logic,
+because it proceeds altogether on the principle of axing questions.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY PUTS 'EM RIGHT.
+
+The _Daily Chronicle_--recently suggested that the plural of rhinoceros
+is a disputed point. 'Arry writes: "What O, _Mr. P._, 'disputed'?--not a
+bit. Any kiddy as 'as 'ad 'arf an eddication knows what the plural of
+''oss' is, don't he? No matter as to its bein' spelt ''os' or ''oss.'
+Plural, anyway ''osses.' 'Bus-'os'--'Bus-'osses.'
+'Rhinocer-os'--'Rhinocer-osses.' That's as plain as an 'aystack, ain't
+it?"
+
+    "Yours,
+
+          "'ARRY."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+DEFINITION FOR A DINER-OUT.--An unlicensed wittler, quoth our worthy
+'ost.--'ARRY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: FERVOUR IN THE FOG
+
+_Unpromising Individual (suddenly--his voice vibrating with passion)._
+
+  "She's moy unney;
+  Oim 'er joy!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed, enthusiastically, a hairdresser's assistant who had
+been out for a holiday. "'Ind 'Ead, in Surrey! That's the place for
+hair!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE REAL LONDON PRIDE.--We know an inveterate Cockney who declares that
+London milk beats the country milk, and beats it "_by many chalks_."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+GOOD PAPER FOR DEAF COCKNEYS.--_The 'Earer._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE MUSICAL COSTER CRAZE.--_Customer._ Have you a copy of Costa's _Eli_?
+
+_Shopman._ No, sir; we have none of Chevalier's songs.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "I say, 'Arry, don't we look frights!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "I say, Bill, oo was this 'ere Nelson as everybody wos a
+talkin' about?" "Why, 'e was the chap as turned the French out of
+Trafalgar Square!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "Bill, can you lend me twopence?"
+
+"Wot a silly question to arst! Why, if I 'ad twopence, wot 'ud I be
+doin' standin' outside a public 'ouse?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A SONG OF SPRING
+
+_By a Cockney Poet._
+
+  All hail, thou jocund time of year,
+  To Cockneys and cock-robins dear!
+  All hail, thou flowery, showery season,
+  When throstles, mating, perch the trees on:
+  When sparrows on the house-tops sit,
+  And court their loves with cheery twit:
+  While opera songsters tune their throats,
+  Exchanging for our gold their notes!
+  Now Nature her new dress receives,
+  And dinner-tables spread their leaves;
+  Asparagus again one sees,
+  And early ducklings, served with peas;
+  Again the crisp whitebait we crunch,
+  And chops of lambkin blithely munch;
+  Salmon again our shops afford,
+  And plovers' eggs adorn the board;
+  While for one day at least our sons
+  May stuff themselves with hot cross buns!
+    See now the swells begin to show
+  Their horsemanship in Rotten Row:
+  See now the Drive is thronged once more,
+  And idlers lounge there as of yore:
+  See now fair April fills Mayfair,
+  And gives new life to Grosvenor Square.
+  See now what crowds flock to the Zoo,
+  Where Master Hippo is on view
+  See daffodils, and daisies pied
+  In bloom, and buttercups beside:
+  See now the thorn, and e'en the rose
+  Signs of returning Spring disclose:
+  See now the lilac large in bud;
+  While costermongers, splashed with mud,
+  The product of the passing showers,
+  Cry, "Here's yer all a blowing flowers!"
+  Or wake the echoes of the groves[A]
+  With "Hornaments for yer fire-stoves!"
+
+[Footnote A: Westbourne Grove, Lisson Grove, Camden Grove, &c.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Appy 'Arry_--
+
+  "With my new panama-a-ar
+  And tupp'ny ciga-a-ar."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ENCOURAGING, VERY!
+
+_Cockney Art-Teacher (newly arrived and nervous--after a long silence)._
+"If you _should_ see a chance o' drorin' any thing correctly--DO SO!!"
+
+    [_Collapse of expectant student._
+
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: STANDING NO NONSENSE.
+
+_'Arry._ "Phew!"--(_the weather was warm, and they had walked over from
+'Ammersmith_)--"bring us a bottle o'champagne, waiter."
+
+_Waiter._ "Yessir--dry, sir?"
+
+_'Arry (aughtily, to put a stop to this familiarity at once)._ "Never
+you mind whether we're dry or whether we ain't!--bring the wine!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: SHEREDITY.
+
+_Lady._ "You don't mean to tell me that this little girl is fit to wait
+at table!"
+
+_Mother (proudly)._ "Well 'm, she _ought_ to be, seein' as 'ow 'er
+father 'as been a _plate layer_ for five-and-twenty year!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Lady (referring to programme, to friend)._ "'Schumann,
+op. 2.' What's the meaning of 'op. 2'?"
+
+_'Arry (who thinks he is being addressed, and always ready to oblige
+with information)._ "Oh, op. 2. Second dance; second 'op, yer know. May
+I 'ave the pleasure?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE SALE OF INTOXICANTS TO CHILDREN BILL.
+
+"It's another hinjustice to hus pore wimmen, it is! They won't let us
+send the kids for it now, an' if my heldest boy goes for it 'e 'as 'arf
+of it 'isself, 'an' if my old man goes 'e never comes back! so the hend
+of it is, I 'ave to go for it myself!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: DISCOURAGING.
+
+_Nervous Philanthropist (on a slumming excursion)._ "Can you tell me if
+this is Little Erebus Street, my man?"
+
+_Suspicious-looking Party._ "Yus."
+
+_Nervous P._ "Er--rather a rough sort of thoroughfare, isn't it?"
+
+_Suspicious-looking P._ "Yus; it is a bit thick. The further yer gows
+daown, the thicker it gits. I lives in the last 'aouse."
+
+    [_Exit philanthropist hurriedly in the opposite direction._
+
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE FESTIVE SEASON.
+
+_First Burglar._ "'Ere's a go, mate! This 'ere bit o' turkey, knuckile
+hend of an 'am, arf a sossidge, and the 'olly off the plum-puddin'!
+Might as well 'ave looked in on a bloomin' vegetarian!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Temperance Orator._ "Ho, pause, my dear friends, pause!"
+_A Voice._ "Ye're right, ole man, _they are_!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEY HOBSERVATION.
+
+Cockneys are not the only people who drop or exasperate the "h's." It is
+done by common people in the provinces, and you may laugh at them for
+it. The deduction therefore is, that a peasant, with an "h," is fair
+game.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NEW COCKNEY SAINT.--Mrs. Malaprop declares that if she lives to be a
+hundred--and all her family detain a venerated age--she will certainly
+have a Saint 'Enery.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+RIDDLE BY 'ARRY.--"Look 'ere, if you're speakin' of a young unmarried
+lady bein' rather 'uffy, what well-known river would you name?--Why,
+'_Miss is 'ippy_,' o' course."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: EASTER MONDAY
+
+_'Arry._ "Do you pass any pubs on the way to Broadstairs, cabby?"
+
+_Cabby._ "Yes. Lots."
+
+_'Arry._ "Well, _don't!_"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "I beg your pardon, ma'am, but I think you dropped
+this?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE END
+
+BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS, LONDON AND TONBRIDGE.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR ***
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: J. A. Hammerton
+
+Illustrator: Various
+
+Release Date: January 15, 2012 [EBook #38586]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Neville Allen, David Edwards and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[cover]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 30%">
+<a href="images/i001.png">
+<img src="images/i001.png" width="100%" alt="Cover" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<h1>MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR</h1>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE.</h3>
+
+<p>Some pages of this work have been moved from the original sequence to enable
+the contents to continue without interruption. The page numbering remains unaltered.</p>
+
+<h3>PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR</h3>
+
+<center>Edited by <span class="smcap">J. A. Hammerton</span></center>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 30%">
+<a href="images/i002.png">
+<img src="images/i002.png" width="100%" alt="Driver of carriage." /></a>
+</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+
+<p>Designed to provide in a series of volumes, each complete in itself, the
+cream of our national humour, contributed by the masters of comic
+draughtsmanship and the leading wits of the age to "Punch," from its
+beginning in 1841 to the present day</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i003.png">
+<img src="images/i003.png" width="100%" alt="Nature's Gallants" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">One of Nature's Gallants.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Loafer (to fair occupant on
+her way to Court).</i> "Ullo, Ethel! All alone?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR</h2>
+<br />
+<h3>IN PICTURE AND STORY</h3>
+<br />
+<center><i>WITH 133 ILLUSTRATIONS</i></center>
+<br /><br />
+<h4>BY</h4>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 15%">
+<a href="images/i004.png">
+<img src="images/i004.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<p>
+PHIL MAY, CHARLES KEENE,<br />
+L. RAVEN-HILL, TOM BROWNE,<br />
+C. SHEPPERSON, E. T. REED,<br />
+BERNARD PARTRIDGE, J. A. SHEPHERD,<br />
+G. D. ARMOUR, GEORGE DU MAURIER,<br />
+AND OTHERS.<br />
+</p>
+
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<center>PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH THE PROPRIETORS OF "PUNCH"<br />
+<br />
+THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD.
+</center>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3>THE PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR</h3>
+
+<center><i>Twenty-five volumes, crown 8vo. 192 pages<br />
+fully illustrated</i><br />
+<br />
+LIFE IN LONDON<br />
+<br />
+COUNTRY LIFE<br />
+<br />
+IN THE HIGHLANDS<br />
+<br />
+SCOTTISH HUMOUR<br />
+<br />
+IRISH HUMOUR<br />
+<br />
+COCKNEY HUMOUR<br />
+<br />
+IN SOCIETY<br />
+<br />
+AFTER DINNER STORIES<br />
+<br />
+IN BOHEMIA<br />
+<br />
+AT THE PLAY<br />
+<br />
+MR. PUNCH AT HOME<br />
+<br />
+ON THE CONTINONG<br />
+<br />
+RAILWAY BOOK<br />
+<br />
+AT THE SEASIDE<br />
+<br />
+MR. PUNCH AFLOAT<br />
+<br />
+IN THE HUNTING FIELD<br />
+<br />
+MR. PUNCH ON TOUR<br />
+<br />
+WITH ROD AND GUN<br />
+<br />
+MR. PUNCH AWHEEL<br />
+<br />
+BOOK OF SPORTS<br />
+<br />
+GOLF STORIES<br />
+<br />
+IN WIG AND GOWN<br />
+<br />
+ON THE WARPATH<br />
+<br />
+BOOK OF LOVE<br />
+<br />
+WITH THE CHILDREN<br />
+<br />
+</center>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 30%">
+<a href="images/i005.png">
+<img src="images/i005.png" width="100%" alt="Man and woman" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/i006.png">
+<img src="images/i006.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<h4>EDITOR'S NOTE</h4>
+
+<img class="wrap" src="images/i007a.png" width="15%" alt="cartoon" />
+<img class="wrapr" src="images/i007b.png" width="15%" alt="cartoon" />
+
+<p>Cockney humour smacks, of course, of the town and makes up in smartness
+and shrewdness what it lacks in mellowness. The Cockney is as a rule a
+conscious humorist; you laugh <i>with</i> him very often, whereas you nearly
+always laugh <i>at</i> the rustic humorist.</p>
+
+<p>George Du Maurier concerned himself a good deal with Cockney character,
+but he was not in sympathy with the Cockney; generally he had an obvious
+contempt for him, and most of his jokes turn on the dropped H, the
+mispronounced word, and educational deficiencies. He portrays some of
+the Cockney's superficial characteristics; he despises him too much to
+be able to get at the heart of him and reveal his character.</p>
+
+<p>Take Phil May's pictures and jokes, and the difference is at once
+apparent. He was fully alive to the Cockney's deficiencies of manner and
+culture; now and then he quite genially and without the least touch of
+scorn or self-complacency makes fun of them; but he really gives you the
+Cockney character. Take, for instance, such a picture as his "Politics
+and Gallantry," his "I say, 'Arry, don't we look frights!" his "Informal
+Introduction"&mdash;(the self-consciousness of the girl's expression, and the
+blatant pride of the man's)&mdash;here, and in almost any of his drawings you
+turn to, you have the absolutely natural Cockney; his types are full of
+character and so true and free from condescension that not only are we
+moved irresistibly to laugh at them, but the Cockney himself would be
+the first to recognise their truth and to laugh joyously at them too. We
+may say pretty much the same of Charles Keene, of Mr. Raven-Hill, of Mr.
+Bernard Partridge, and of others of the "Punch" artists represented
+here, who illustrate the essential Cockney character, and do not go on
+the easy assumption that dropped H's and mispronounced words and
+aggressive vulgarity are the beginning and the end of it.</p>
+
+<p>Cockney humour smacks, of course, of the town and makes up in smartness
+and shrewdness what it lacks in mellowness. The Cockney is as a rule a
+conscious humorist; you laugh <i>with</i> him very often, whereas you nearly
+always laugh <i>at</i> the rustic humorist.</p>
+
+<p>George Du Maurier concerned himself a good deal with Cockney character,
+but he was not in sympathy with the Cockney; generally he had an obvious
+contempt for him, and most of his jokes turn on the dropped H, the
+mispronounced word, and educational deficiencies. He portrays some of
+the Cockney's superficial characteristics; he despises him too much to
+be able to get at the heart of him and reveal his character.</p>
+
+<p>Take Phil May's pictures and jokes, and the difference is at once
+apparent. He was fully alive to the Cockney's deficiencies of manner and
+culture; now and then he quite genially and without the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> least touch of
+scorn or self-complacency makes fun of them; but he really gives you the
+Cockney character. Take, for instance, such a picture as his "Politics
+and Gallantry," his "I say, 'Arry, don't we look frights!" his "Informal
+Introduction"&mdash;(the self-consciousness of the girl's expression, and the
+blatant pride of the man's)&mdash;here, and in almost any of his drawings you
+turn to, you have the absolutely natural Cockney; his types are full of
+character and so true and free from condescension that not only are we
+moved irresistibly to laugh at them, but the Cockney himself would be
+
+<img class="wrap" src="images/i007d.png" width="15%" alt="cartoon" />
+<img class="wrapr" src="images/i007c.png" width="15%" alt="cartoon" />
+
+the first to recognise their truth and to laugh joyously at them too. We
+may say pretty much the same of Charles Keene, of Mr. Raven-Hill, of Mr.
+Bernard Partridge, and of others of the "Punch" artists represented
+here, who illustrate the essential Cockney character, and do not go on
+the easy assumption that dropped H's and mispronounced words and
+aggressive vulgarity are the beginning and the end of it.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 30%">
+<a href="images/i008.png">
+<img src="images/i008.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<h2>MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR</h2>
+
+<br />
+
+<center>"All's swell that ends swell," as 'Arry remarked when he purchased a
+pair of "misfits."</center>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">'Arry and 'Arriet's Favourite Italian Poet.</span>&mdash;'Ariosto.</center>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mother Wit.</span>&mdash;<i>First Coster.</i> I say, Bill, wot's the meanin' o' Congress?</p>
+
+<p><i>Second Coster.</i> A shee heel. Female of conger.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">A Londoner's Rural Reflection.</span>&mdash;The Hayfield is better than the
+Haymarket.</p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>'ARRY'S LAMENT</h2>
+
+<p>"A public meeting was held at Hampstead last night to protest against
+the tampering with the Heath by tube railway promoters."&mdash;<i>Daily Paper.</i></p>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Wot! Toobs on 'appy 'Amstid?</p>
+<p class="i2">A stytion at <i>Jack Strors</i>?</p>
+<p class="i0">I 'old the sime a bloomin' shim</p>
+<p class="i2">An' clean agin the lors,</p>
+<p class="i4">Leastwyes it oughter be&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i4">If lors wos mide by me</p>
+<p class="i4">No toobs yer wouldn't see</p>
+<p class="i6">On 'appy 'Amstid.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Wy, wheer are we ter go, Liz,</p>
+<p class="i2">Ter git a breath of air?</p>
+<p class="i0">Yer 'll set yer teeth agin the 'eath</p>
+<p class="i2">When theer's a toob up there.</p>
+<p class="i4">A pinky-yaller stytion</p>
+<p class="i4">By wye o' deckyrytion&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i4">I calls it desecrytion,</p>
+<p class="i6">'Appy 'Amstid.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Oh! sive us 'appy 'Amstid!</p>
+<p class="i2">It's Parrydise, you bet!</p>
+<p class="i0">Theer ain't no smoke ter 'arm a bloke.</p>
+<p class="i2">Nor yet no smuts as yet.</p>
+<p class="i4">An' so I 'opes they 'll tell</p>
+<p class="i4">This bloomin' Yanky swell</p>
+<p class="i4">Ter send 'is toobs ter&mdash;well,</p>
+<p class="i6">Not 'appy 'Amstid!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i009.png">
+<img src="images/i009.png" width="100%" alt="THE WILD EAST" /></a>
+<h3>THE WILD WILD EAST</h3>
+<p><i>First Coster.</i> "Say, Bill, 'ow d'yer like my new kickseys? Good fit,
+eh?"</p>
+<p><i>Second Coster.</i> "Fit! They ain't no <i>fit</i>. They're a <i>haper-plictick
+stroke</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>NOTE BY A COCKNEY NATURALIST</h2>
+
+<p>The common blackbeetles (<i>Scarabæus niger</i>) which so abundantly infest
+the culinary regions of Cockaigne are alleged to be agreeable, although
+profuse, in flavour, provided they be delicately larded before crimping,
+and then fricasseed or simply fried. Care should specially be taken not
+to injure their antennæ, which, when crisp with egg and breadcrumbs,
+exquisitely tickle the palate of the gourmet, and provoke him to the
+liveliest of gastronomic feats. There lurks in vulgar minds a savage
+prejudice against these interesting insects, by reason, very likely, of
+the popular impression that at times they have been manufactured into
+Soy. But this may be assumed to be mere idle superstition, and Soyer,
+the great <i>chef</i>, wisely set his face against it, remarking, as he did
+so, "<i>Honi Soy qui mal y pense.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>Among the warblers which abound in the vicinity of the metropolis, one
+of the most interesting is the little mudlark (<i>Alauda Greenwichiensis</i>)
+whose plaintive cry may nightly be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> heard upon the shore of the river,
+where these little creatures congregate in flocks, and pick up any grub
+which they may chance to meet with.</p>
+
+<p>Doubts have been entertained by sundry Cockney naturalists whether the
+pyramids of oyster shells, which in the early part of August used to be
+noticed in the streets, should be regarded as a proof of the migratory
+habits of the mollusc. That the oyster is a sluggard and objects to
+leave his bed seems pretty generally admitted; but that he is endowed
+with the power of locomotion has, fortunately for science, been placed
+beyond a doubt. Whether oysters shed their shells when they are crossed
+in love is a point on which the naturalist is still somewhat in the
+dark.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">Self-evident.</span>&mdash;It must have been a cockney who said that St. Bees came
+from St. 'Ives.</center>
+<br />
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">A Dead Letter.</span>&mdash;Too often H.</center>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i010.png">
+<img src="images/i010.png" width="100%" alt="two champion doners" /></a>
+<p>"I say, Bill, 'ere comes two champion doners! Let's kid
+'em 'at we're hofficers!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i011.png">
+<img src="images/i011.png" width="100%" alt="Epsom up to Date" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Epsom up to Date.</span></h3>
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "Ain't ye comin' to see the 'orse run for yer money?"</p>
+<p><i>Cholley.</i> "Not me! No bloomin' fear! I'm goin' to see this cove don't
+run <i>with</i> my money!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i012.png">
+<img src="images/i012.png" width="100%" alt="ROYAL ALBERT HALL TO DAY" /></a>
+<h3>ROYAL ALBERT HALL TO DAY</h3>
+<p>"I 'ear this 'ere Patti ain't <i>'arf</i> bad!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i013.png">
+<img src="images/i013.png" width="100%" alt="like to look at the old church?" /></a>
+<p>"Would you gentlemen like to look at the old church?"</p>
+<p>"Ho, yus. We're <i>nuts</i> on old churches!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Quoth an eminent literary man, in the hearing of 'Arry, "All George
+Meredith's poetry might be republished under one title as 'Our
+Georgics.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Oo's ''Icks'?" asked 'Arry.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">"The Teaching of Erse in Ireland."</span>&mdash;"Well," says 'Arry, "it sounds
+uncommon funereal. O' course I knew an erse and plumes and coal black
+'osses is what they call a 'moral lesson.' But why make such a fuss
+about it in Ireland?"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">An Awkward Name.</span>&mdash;'Arry, on a marine excursion, hearing mention made of
+the two sea-birds the great auk and the little auk, inquired if the
+little auk was a sparrow-'awk.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center>"He is the greatest liar on (H)earth," as the Cockney said of the
+lap-dog he often saw lying before the fire.</center>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i014.png">
+<img src="images/i014.png" width="100%" alt="The Vernacular" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">The Vernacular.</span></h3>
+<p>"Yer know that young Germin feller as come ter sty in our 'ouse six
+months agow? Well, w'en fust 'e come, I give yer my word'e didn' know
+nothink but 'is own lengwidge; but we bin learnin' 'im English, an' now
+e' can speak it puffick&mdash;jes' the sime as wot you an' me can."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dinner for the H-less. Good Educational Course for an Uneducated
+Cockney.</span>&mdash;An <i>aitch</i>-bone.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Cockneys at Aldershot.</span>&mdash;<i>First Cockney.</i> "'Ere, 'Arry, where's the
+colonel?"</p>
+
+<p><i>Second Cockney.</i> "The <i>colonel</i>, bless yer, 'e's in <i>an 'ut</i>."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Household Note.</span>&mdash;<i>(By a Cockney). What to do with cold mutton.</i> <i>H</i>eat
+it.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Cockney Conundrum.</span>&mdash;Wot lake in Hengland's got the glassiest buzzum?</p>
+
+<p>Windermere.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">For Cives Romani.</span>&mdash;The way to 'Ampton races?&mdash;The 'Appy 'Un (Appian) of
+course.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i015.png">
+<img src="images/i015.png" width="100%" alt="Emmersmith" /></a>
+<p><i>'Bus Conductor.</i> "Emmersmith! Emmersmith! 'Ere ye are
+Emmersmith!"</p>
+<p><i>Liza Ann.</i> "Oo er yer callin' Emmer Smith? Sorcy 'ound!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i016.png">
+<img src="images/i016.png" width="100%" alt="Poor Letter A" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Poor Letter "A."</span></h3>
+<p>"Do you sell type?"&mdash;"Type, sir? No, sir. This is an ironmonger's.
+You'll find type at the linendryper's over the w'y!"</p>
+<p>"I don't mean <i>tape</i>, man! <i>Type</i>, for <i>printing</i>!"</p>
+<p>"Oh, <i>toype</i> yer mean! I beg yer pardon, sir!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i017.png">
+<img src="images/i017.png" width="100%" alt="MYOPIA" /></a>
+<h3>MYOPIA</h3>
+<p><i>Little Binks (to unsteady party who had lurched heavily against him).</i>
+"I beg your pardon, I'm sure, but I'm very short-sighted&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+<p><i>Dissipated Stranger.</i> "Do' mensh't, shir&mdash;I've met goo' many shor'
+sight peopl'sh morn', bu' you're firsh gen'l'm'sh made 'shli'sht
+'pology!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Our 'Arry Again!</span></h3>
+
+<blockquote><p>'Arry <i>is at a hotel where the boarding system prevails, and sees the
+following notice posted on the walls&mdash;"Breakfast, 9 a.m."</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<p><i>'Arry (to Waiter).</i> "Breakfast, and some 'am."</p>
+
+<p><i>Waiter.</i> "We've no 'am."</p>
+
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "No 'am! <i>(Pointing to notice.)</i> What's that?"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><i>Says one 'Arry to another 'Arry.</i> "I say, old man, the papers say they
+'ope 1882 will be the openin' of a new era. What's that?"</p>
+
+<p><i>Second 'Arry.</i> "Openin' of a new 'earer? Why, a telephone, of course,
+you juggins!"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3>A SONG FOR COCKNEY SPORTSMEN</h3>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The hart's in the Highlands,</p>
+<p class="i2">Of that there's no fear,</p>
+<p class="i0">And 'tis there you may buy lands</p>
+<p class="i2">For stalking the deer:</p>
+<p class="i0">But the hills are no trifle,</p>
+<p class="i2">And they're windy and cold,</p>
+<p class="i0">So your wish you'd best stifle,</p>
+<p class="i2">Or buy, and be&mdash;sold.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i018.png">
+<img src="images/i018.png" width="100%" alt="GOOD NEWS" /></a>
+<h3>GOOD NEWS</h3>
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "T'aint no good miking a fuss about it, yer know, guv'nor! Me
+and my pals must 'ave our 'd'y out'!"</p>
+<p><i>Foreign Fellow-traveller.</i> "Aha! Die out! You go to die out? Mon Dieu!
+I am vairy glad to 'ear it. It is time!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i019.png">
+<img src="images/i019.png" width="100%" alt="CITY SUSPICIONS" /></a>
+<h3>FORCE OF HABIT; OR, CITY SUSPICIONS</h3>
+<p><i>'Arry (who is foraging for his camping party).</i> "Look here, my good
+woman, are these cabbages fresh?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i020.png">
+<img src="images/i020.png" width="100%" alt="like a mowing machine" /></a>
+<p><i>Little Dobbs.</i> "Hullo! what's that? Looks like a mowing
+machine."</p>
+<p><i>Hairdresser (who does not appreciate "chaff").</i> "No, sir, 'tain't a
+mowin' machine. It's meant to give gentlemen fresh <i>h</i>air."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i021.png">
+<img src="images/i021.png" width="100%" alt="BITING SARCASM" /></a>
+<h3>BITING SARCASM</h3>
+<p><i>Gentleman with the Broom (who has inadvertently splashed the artist's
+favourite shipwreck).</i> "Ow yus! I suppose yer think ye're the president
+o' the Roy'l Acadermy! A settin' there in the lap er luxury!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i022.png">
+<img src="images/i022.png" width="100%" alt="FOREIGN COMPETITION" /></a>
+<h3>FOREIGN COMPETITION</h3>
+<p><i>British Habitual Criminal.</i> "Well, if these 'ere furrin aliens is
+a-goin' ter take the bread out of a honest man's mouth&mdash;blimey if I
+don't turn copper!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Very Appropriate.</span>&mdash;Says 'Arry, "Regular good place for a medical man to
+live in is 'Ill Street, Berkeley Square. But why don't he cure it and
+make it Quite Well Street?"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3>COMMENT BY A COCKNEY</h3>
+
+<div class="poem w32"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Bad-Gastein! Sounds more fit than nice, and yet</p>
+<p class="i2">They say most healing waters there are had.</p>
+<p class="i0">Strange, though, that people fancy good to get</p>
+<p class="i2">By going to the Bad!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>'Arriet read from a daily paper, "Navigation in the Ouse." "I s'pose,"
+said 'Arry, "as the members are goin' to 'ave a 'ouse-boat this season.
+Which 'ouse? Hupper or lower? Whichever's to steer? The Speaker or Lord
+'Igh Chancellor?"</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Two Distinct Classes.</span>&mdash;The aristocracy and the '<i>Arry</i>-stocracy.</p>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i023.png">
+<img src="images/i023.png" width="100%" alt="does one tip the waiters" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Withering.</span></h3>
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "I s'y&mdash;does one tip the witers 'ere?"</p>
+<p><i>Alphonse.</i> "Not onless you are reecher zan ze vaiter, sare!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE BLESSED HERITAGE</h2>
+
+<center>["Poverty is a blessed heritage."&mdash;<i>Mr. Carnegie.</i>]</center>
+
+<div class="poem w36"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">'Ere, Lizer, wheer's yer gratitood? 'E ses, ses Mr. C.,</p>
+<p class="i0">As it's a blessed 'eritage, is poverty, ses 'e.</p>
+<p class="i0">Then think 'ow thankful an' 'ow blest we oughter feel, us two,</p>
+<p class="i0">But yet yer that contrairy that I'm blest, Liz, if yer do.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Wot? 'Ungry? Wot is 'unger? Don't it vary the monotony</p>
+<p class="i0">An' Wooster sorce yer vittles, that's supposin' as yer've got any?</p>
+<p class="i0">Then think of them pore millionaires wot misses the delight</p>
+<p class="i0">Of 'avin' 'ad no breakfast on a roarin' happytite.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Then money! I Think, Elizer, of them cruel stocks and shares</p>
+<p class="i0">Wot makes their lives a torter to them martyred millionaires</p>
+<p class="i0">Oh, ain't we much more appy when the sticks is up the spout</p>
+<p class="i0">An' the kids is wantin' dinner and 'as got ter go without?</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">And don't it make yer 'eart bleed, too, to think of all the care</p>
+<p class="i0">Of mansions in the country and an 'ouse in Grosvenor Square?</p>
+<p class="i0">Ah, what would them pore fellers give if honly they could come</p>
+<p class="i0">An' live with all their fam'ly in our garret hup the slum?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Wot, Liz? Yer'd like ter see 'em come? 'Ere, none o' that theer charf!</p>
+<p class="i0">Yer'd sell yer bloomin' birthright for a pot of 'arf-an-'arf?</p>
+<p class="i0">Lor, Liz! Ter think as you should be in sich a thankless mood!</p>
+<p class="i0">Yer've got a "blessed 'eritage," an' 'ere's yer gratitood!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">'Arry Examined.</span>&mdash;<i>Q.</i> "What is meant by 'Higher Education'"?</p>
+
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "Getting a tutor at so much a week. That's the way I should
+'ire education&mdash;if I wanted it."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Why He is Such a Dull Boy.</span></h3>
+
+<p>"'Arry," said an eminent comic singer to his friend, confidentially at
+the Oxford, "I'm exclusively engaged at the music 'alls; mayn't perform
+in a theatre."</p>
+
+<p>"Then," replied 'Arry, knowingly, "it's all work and no play with you."</p>
+
+<p>The conclusion was so evident that, had it not been for a good deal of
+soothing syrup at 'Arry's expense, there might have been a serious
+breach of the peace.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i024.png">
+<img src="images/i024.png" width="100%" alt="drive me to Piccadilly" /></a>
+<p><i>Toff.</i> "I say, my boy, would you like to drive me to
+Piccadilly?"</p>
+<p><i>Boy.</i> "I shouldn't mind, old sport, only I don't fink the 'arness would
+fit yer!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i025.png">
+<img src="images/i025.png" width="80%" alt="POOR LETTER H" /></a>
+<h3>POOR LETTER H</h3>
+<p><i>Tout Contractor (who has been paid a shilling per man, and sees his way
+to a little extra profit).</i> "Now look 'ere, you two H's! The public
+don't want yer&mdash;nor <i>I</i> don't, nor nobody don't; so jist drop them
+boards, and then 'ook it!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>OBSERVATIONS BY A COCKNEY NATURALIST</h2>
+
+<p>A nightingale has been heard singing in Kensington Gardens (<i>vide
+Times</i>, April 19). A salmon has been seen swimming close to London
+Bridge. A trout has been observed (reposing on a marble slab) near to
+Charing Cross. Sticklebacks have been captured in the waters of the
+Serpentine. Plovers eggs have been discovered in the middle of Covent
+Garden: I myself have found there as many as two dozen in a single walk.
+There is a rookery in St. Giles's, well known to the police. I have seen
+a pigeon shot not far from Shepherd's Bush, and I have heard one has
+been plucked by a member of the hawk tribe at another West-End haunt.
+Blackbeetles are common in the back kitchens of Belgravia, and
+bluebottles abound among the butchers of Whitechapel during the warm
+months. There is another kind of fly, which is said to be indigenous to
+the stables of the jobmasters, and which also may be seen by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> observant
+Cockney naturalists, but less seldom in Whitechapel than near the
+Regent's Park. Sparrow-clubs have not been established yet in London,
+but pea-shooters are common in many of its streets. I am told that early
+risers may hear a male canary singing in the neighbourhood of Islington
+at four o'clock, <span class="smcap">A.M.</span>, and may also hear a cock crow any morning, except
+Sunday, between five and six o'clock. The thrush has been observed among
+sundry of the children, under medical inspection, in the nurseries and
+infant hospitals of town. Little ducks are plentiful in the <i>salons</i> of
+Tyburnia, and in Bayswater and Brompton there are numbers of great
+geese. Welsh rabbits may be seen close to Covent Garden, and wild
+turkeys have been noticed even in the Strand, hanging by the beak. In
+the purlieus of St. Stephen's, where are the sacred haunts of the
+collective wisdom of the kingdom, I have heard the hootings of many an
+old owl. From information which I have received from members of the
+metropolitan police, I may assert that larks are common in the
+Haymarket, and that on the shores of the silver Thames at Wapping there
+is frequently observable a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> goodly flock of mudlarks. From similar
+information, I may add that there are careful observers in the streets
+who rarely pass a day without their setting their eyes upon a robbin'.
+Who shall say that in the very midst of the metropolis there is not
+abundant evidence of a truly rural, and a tooral-looral life?</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Night-Birds that make West-End Night Hideous.</span>&mdash;The 'owls of 'Arry after
+his larks.</p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Charade for Costermongers.</span>&mdash;My first is unfathomable, my second
+odoriferous, and my whole is a people of Africa.&mdash;<i>Abyss-inians.</i></p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Consolation for Cockneys.</span>&mdash;It is all very well to talk of the fine
+boulevards of Paris; but in the French metropolis, where the rent is so
+high, and the living so dear, there is not one street to be named with
+Cheapside.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i027.png">
+<img src="images/i026.png" width="100%" alt="which end does it open" /></a>
+<p><i>'Arry (encountering a shut gate for the first time).</i>
+"Wonder which end the thing opens? Ah, 'ere y'are! 'Ere's the 'ooks an'
+eyes!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i027.png">
+<img src="images/i027.png" width="100%" alt="THE BEAN HARVEST" /></a>
+<h3>THE BEAN HARVEST</h3>
+<p><i>Cockney Tourist.</i> "Tut-t-t! Good gracious! What ever can 'ave made the
+corn turn so black?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i028.png">
+<img src="images/i028.png" width="100%" alt="Easter Vacation" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">The Easter Vacation.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Owner.</i> "Well, the poor old moke ain't been quite 'isself lately, so we
+thought a day in the country 'ud do im good!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>MISTAKES ABOUT SCOTLAND</h2>
+
+<center><i>(Contributed by a Converted Cockney)</i></center>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that every Scotchman, when he goes to
+Edinburgh, immediately walks down Princes Street clad in the ancient
+costume of the Highlanders.</p>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that the <i>pièce de résistance</i> at every
+Scotch dinner-party is a haggis.</p>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that a Scotchman does not enjoy a joke every
+bit as much as an Englishman.</p>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that a Scotch Sabbath in the country is a
+whit more <i>triste</i> than an English Sunday in the provinces.</p>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that a Scotchman sets a greater value upon
+his "bawbee" than an Englishman upon his shilling or an American upon
+his dollar.</p>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that inns in Scotland are dearer and less
+comfortable than hotels in England.</p>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that we have a city in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> England that can
+compare favourably (from an architectural point of view) with the town
+of Edinburgh.</p>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that it always rains in the Isle of Skye.</p>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that there are no more "Fair Maids" in the
+houses of Perth.</p>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that Hampstead Heath is as beautiful as
+Dunkeld.</p>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that the Caledonian Canal is at all like the
+Serpentine.</p>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that Aberdeen is less imposing in appearance
+than Chelsea or Islington.</p>
+
+<p>It is a mistake to believe that the countrymen of Scott and Burns do not
+appreciate the works of Shakspeare, Milton, Byron, Dickens, Thackeray,
+and Tennyson.</p>
+
+<p>And, lastly (this is added to the Cockney's list by the wisest sage of
+this or any other age), it is the greatest mistake of all to believe
+that <i>Mr. Punch</i> does not like and respect (in spite of an occasional
+joke at their expense) the kindly, homely, sound-hearted people who live
+north of the Tweed.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i029.png">
+<img src="images/i029.png" width="100%" alt="After the Races" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">After the Races.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Little 'Arry (who has had a "bad day"&mdash;to driver of public coach).</i>
+"Ever lose any money backin' 'orses, coachie?"</p>
+<p><i>Driver.</i> "Not 'alf! Lost twenty quid once&mdash;backed a pair of 'orses and
+a homnibus into a shop window in Regent Street!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p>
+
+<table summary="cartoons">
+<tr>
+<td>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i030a.png">
+<img src="images/i030a.png" width="100%" alt="Two ladies with boy" /></a>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><i>Old Lady.</i> "Dear me, what a nice refined-looking little
+boy. Why, Jane, he has a mouth fit for a cherub; I really must give him
+sixpence."</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Does so.</i></p>
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 70%">
+<a href="images/i030b.png">
+<img src="images/i030b.png" width="100%" alt="The Cherub" /></a>
+<p><i>The Cherub (five seconds later).</i> "S-s-s-s!! Billee! the old gal's give
+me a tanner!"</p>
+</div>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>BY OUR COCKNEY</h2>
+
+<p>When is a yew tree not a yew tree? When it's a 'igh tree.</p>
+
+<p>Talking of that, <i>Mr. P.</i>, what a nice line the Great Northern to
+Hedgware is, to be sure. I am, as you know, werry partickler about my
+"H"s, but "'ang me," as my friend 'Arry Belleville says, "if t'ain't
+'nough to spoil your pronunshiashun for a hage and hall time to 'ave to
+'ear such names of stations one atop of tother, as the followin', as
+called out by the porters an' guards:"</p>
+<blockquote>
+<p>'Olloway.<br />
+Seven Scissors Road.<br />
+Crouch Hend.<br />
+'Ighgate and'Ampstead.<br />
+Heast Hend.<br />
+Finchley and 'Endon.<br />
+Mill 'Ill.<br />
+Hedgware.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>There's a lot for you! And t'other line goes to 'Arford, 'Atfield, and
+Saint All-buns. Saint <i>All Buns</i> would be a good feast, eh, sir?</p>
+
+<p class="regards">Yours,</p>
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Enery.</span></p>
+
+<p><i>Hivy 'Ouse, 'Oxton.</i></p><br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i031.png">
+<img src="images/i031.png" width="100%" alt="Men arguing" /></a>
+<br /><br />
+<p><i>First Combatant.</i> "&mdash;! &mdash;! &mdash;! &mdash;! &amp;c."</p>
+<p><i>Bystander.</i> "Why don't yer answer 'im back?"</p>
+<p><i>Second Combatant.</i> "'Ow can I? 'E's used all the best words!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>A COCKNEY RHAPSODY</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p>[A critic in the <i>Daily News</i> accuses artists generally of
+ignorance in their treatment of rural subjects, and declares that
+nearly every picture of work in the hay or harvest field is
+incorrect.]</p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem w36"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Come revel with me in the country's delights,</p>
+<p class="i0">Its rapturous pleasures, its marvellous sights;</p>
+<p class="i0">No landscape of common or garden I praise,</p>
+<p class="i0">But Nature's strange charms that the painter pourtrays.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">No summer begins there, and spring never ends,</p>
+<p class="i0">It mingles with autumn, with winter it blends;</p>
+<p class="i0">Its primroses bloom when the barley is ripe,</p>
+<p class="i0">Amid its red apples the nightingales pipe.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">There often the shadow falls southward at noon,</p>
+<p class="i0">And sunrise is hailed by the pale crescent moon,</p>
+<p class="i0">The sun sets at will in the east or the west,</p>
+<p class="i0">In the grove where the cuckoo is building her nest.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">There the milkmaid sits down to the left of the cow,</p>
+<p class="i0">In harvest they sow, and in haytime they plough;</p>
+<p class="i0">While mowers, in attitudes gladsome and blythe,</p>
+<p class="i0">Impossible antics perform with the scythe.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">There huntsmen in June after foxes may roam,</p>
+<p class="i0">And horses unbridled go champing with foam;</p>
+<p class="i0">From torrents by winter fierce swollen and high,</p>
+<p class="i0">The proud salmon leaps in pursuit of the fly.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Ah Nature! it's little&mdash;I own for my part&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">I know of your face save as mirrored in art;</p>
+<p class="i0">Yet, vainly shall critics begrudge me that charm,</p>
+<p class="i0">For a fellow can paint without learning to farm.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i032.png">
+<img src="images/i032.png" width="100%" alt="Bethnal Green" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Bethnal Green.</span></h3>
+<p><i>East-Ender.</i> "'Ary Scheffer!' Hignorant fellers, these foreigners Bill!
+Spells 'Enery without the haitch!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Overheard at a Meeting of the Up-in-a-Balloon Society.</span></h3>
+
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> Wot's the difference between Nelson and that cove in the chair?</p>
+
+<p><i>Charlie.</i> Give it up, mate.</p>
+
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> Wy, <i>Nelson</i> was a nautical 'ero, and this chap's a <i>'ero
+nautical</i>, to be sure.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">'Arry 'ad&mdash;for Once.</span></h3>
+<center><span class="smcap">Scene</span>&mdash;<i>Exterior of St. James's Hall on a Schumann
+and Joachim Night.</i></center>
+<p><i>'Arry (meeting High-Art Musical Friend, who has come out during an
+interval, after assisting at Madame Schumann's magnificent reception).</i>
+'Ullo! What's up? What are they at now?</p>
+<p><i>High-Art Friend (consulting programme).</i> Let me see. They've done "Op.
+13." Ah, yes! They've just got to "Op. 44."</p>
+<p><i>'Arry (astounded).</i> 'Op forty-four! St. James's 'All got a dancin'
+licence! Hooray! I'm all there! I'll go in for 'Op forty-five. What is
+it, a waltz or a polka?</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Rushes to the pay-place.</i>]</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i033.png">
+<img src="images/i033.png" width="100%" alt="Rude am I" /></a>
+<h3>"<span class="smcap">Rude am I in My Speech</span>" (<span class="smcap">Othello</span>)</h3>
+<center><span class="smcap">The Language of Flower Girls</span></center>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE COMPLAINT OF THE COCKNEY CLERK</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p>"I know of no cure but for the Englishman (1) to do his best to
+compete in the particulars where the German now excels; (2) to try
+to show that, taken all round, he is worth more than the
+German."&mdash;<i>Mr. Gladstone on English Clerks and German Competition.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem w32"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">All very fine, O orator illustrious!</p>
+<p class="i2">But I as soon would be a mole or merman,</p>
+<p class="i0">As a short-grubbing, horribly industrious,</p>
+<p class="i8">Linguistic German.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">A clerk's a clerk, that is a cove who scribbles</p>
+<p class="i2">All day, and then goes in for cue, and "jigger,"</p>
+<p class="i0">And not a mere machine who feeds by nibbles,</p>
+<p class="i8">Slaves like a nigger.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Learn languages? And for two quid a week?</p>
+<p class="i2">Cut barmaids, billiards, bitter beer and betting?</p>
+<p class="i0">Yah! that may suit a sausage, or a sneak!</p>
+<p class="i8">Whistles need wetting.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">That is if they are genuine English whistles,</p>
+<p class="i2">And not dry, hoarse, yah-yah Teutonic throttles.</p>
+<p class="i0"><i>I</i>'m not a donkey who can thrive on thistles.</p>
+<p class="i8">No, that's "no bottles."</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">I've learned my native tongue,&mdash;and that's a teaser&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">I've also learned a lot of slang and patter;</p>
+<p class="i0">But German, French, Italian, Portuguese, sir,</p>
+<p class="i8">For "screw" no fatter?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Not me, my old exuberant wood-chopper!</p>
+<p class="i2">Level <i>me</i> to the straw-haired Carls and Hermanns?</p>
+<p class="i0">No; there's another trick would do me proper,&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i8">Kick out the Germans!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Old Bismarck's "blood and iron's" a receipt meant</p>
+<p class="i2">For sour-krautt gobblers, sandy and sardonic!</p>
+<p class="i0">But for us Britons that Teutonic treatment</p>
+<p class="i8">Is much too tonic.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The cheek of 'em just puts me in a rage,</p>
+<p class="i2">Send 'em back home, ah! even pay their passage</p>
+<p class="i0">Or soon, by Jove, we'll have to call our age,</p>
+<p class="i8">The German "sauce"-age!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i034.png">
+<img src="images/i034.png" width="100%" alt="Informal Introduction" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">An Informal Introduction.</span></h3>
+<p><i>'Arry (shouting across the street to his "Pal").</i> "Hi! Bill! This is
+'er!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>"ON A CLIFF BY THE SEA"</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>Whit Monday</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="poem w30"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">A verse for "'Arry"? Well, I'm shot!</p>
+<p class="i2">(Excuse my language plain and terse)</p>
+<p class="i0">For such a nuisance I have not</p>
+<p class="i8">A verse.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">His praise don't ask me to rehearse,</p>
+<p class="i2">But, if you like&mdash;I'll tell you what&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">The <i>rôle</i> of Baalam I'll reverse.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Only, like Balak, from this spot</p>
+<p class="i2">Desire me 'Arry's tribe to curse,</p>
+<p class="i0">To grant that prayer you'll find me not</p>
+<p class="i8">Averse!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i035.png">
+<img src="images/i035.png" width="100%" alt="Female buying ticket." /></a>
+<p><i>'Arriet.</i> "Wot toime his the next troine fer 'Ammersmith?"</p>
+<p><i>Clerk.</i> "Due now."</p>
+<p><i>'Arriet.</i> "'Course Oi dawn't now, stoopid, or I wouldn't be harskin'
+yer!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>'ARRY IN ROME AND LONDON</h2>
+
+<p>A kind correspondent calls <i>Mr. Punch's</i> attention to the fact that
+'Arry the ubiquitous crops up even in the classics as Arrius, in fact,
+in <i>Carmen</i> lxxxiv. of Catullus. How proud 'Arry will be to hear of his
+classical prototype! Our correspondent "dropping into verse,"
+exclaims:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem w32"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Yes! Your Cockney is eternal;</p>
+<p class="i2">Arrius speaks in 'Arry still;</p>
+<p class="i0">Vaunts 'is "hincome" by paternal</p>
+<p class="i2">"Hartful" tricks hup 'Olborn 'Ill.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<blockquote><p>How well he is justified may be seen by a glance at the text of  Catullus:&mdash;</p></blockquote>
+
+<center>DE ARRIO.</center>
+
+<div class="poem w32"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"C<i>h</i>ommoda" dicebat, si quando commoda vellet</p>
+<p class="i2">Dicere, et "<i>h</i>indsidias" Arrius insidias:</p>
+<p class="i0">Et tum mirifice sperabat se esse locutum.</p>
+<p class="i2">Cum, quantum poterat, dixerat "<i>h</i>insidias."</p>
+<p class="i0">Credo, sic mater, sic Liber avunculus ejus.</p>
+<p class="i2">Sic maternus avus dixerit, atque avia.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="author">Catullus, <i>Carmen</i> lxxxiv.</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>Which&mdash;for the benefit of 'Arry himself, who is not perhaps
+familiar with the "Lingo Romano"&mdash;though he may know something of a
+"Romano" dear to certain young sportsmen, though not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> dearer to
+them than other caterers&mdash;may thus be <i>very</i> freely  adapted:&mdash;</p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem w32"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">'Arry to <i>H</i>oxford gives the aspirate still</p>
+<p class="i0">He cruelly denies to 'Igate 'Ill;</p>
+<p class="i0">Yet deems in diction he can ape the "swell,"</p>
+<p class="i0">And "git the 'ang of it" exceeding well.</p>
+<p class="i0">Doubtless his sire, the 'atter, and his mother,</p>
+<p class="i0">The hupper 'ousemaid, so addressed each other;</p>
+<p class="i0">For spite of all that wrangling Board Schools teach,</p>
+<p class="i0">There seems heredity in Cockney speech.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Commercial Intelligence.</span></h3>
+
+<p>According to a trade circular issued by a
+Cockney company, Florence and Lucca, whence the finer description of
+oils have been heretofore imported, are threatened with a vigorous
+competition by the Iles of Greece.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">The Richest Dish in the World.</span>&mdash;The "weal" of fortune.</center>
+<br />
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">'Arry's Motto.</span>&mdash;"Youth on the prowl and pleasure at the 'elm."</center>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i036.png">
+<img src="images/i036.png" width="100%" alt="Cab fare" /></a>
+<p><i>Lady.</i> "Half-a-crown, indeed! Your fare is
+eighteen-pence. I looked it up in Bradshaw."</p>
+<p><i>Cabman.</i> "Well, to be sure! Wot a good wife you <i>would 'ave</i> made for a
+pore man!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i037.png">
+<img src="images/i037.png" width="100%" alt="Back to the Land" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Back to the Land.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Farmer's Wife (who has told the new lad from London to collect eggs).</i>
+"Well, Jack, have you got many?"</p>
+<p><i>Jack (who has raided a sitting hen).</i> "Rauther! One old 'en she's bin
+and layed thirteen, and I don't think she's finished yet!"</p>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>LINES BY A COCKNEY</h2>
+
+<p><i>Addressed to A Young Lady, but dropped by some mistake into Mr. Punch's
+letter-box.</i></p>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Sweet hangel, whom I met last heve</p>
+<p class="i2">Hat Mrs. Harthur's 'op,</p>
+<p class="i0">I 'ope that you will give me leave</p>
+<p class="i2">A question now to pop.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">I mind me 'ow when in the 'all</p>
+<p class="i2">Your carriage was hannounced,</p>
+<p class="i0">You hasked me to hadjust your shawl,</p>
+<p class="i2">Hon which with 'aste I pounced.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Then heager to your Ma you ran,</p>
+<p class="i2">She anxious to be gone,</p>
+<p class="i0">I 'eard 'er call you Mary-Hann,</p>
+<p class="i2">Or helse 'twas Mari-hon.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Now, Mary-Hann's a name I 'ate</p>
+<p class="i2">Has much as Betsy-Jane,</p>
+<p class="i0">I could not bear to link my fate</p>
+<p class="i2">With such a 'orrid name;</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">But Mari-hon I like as well</p>
+<p class="i2">As hany name I know;</p>
+<p class="i0">Then, hangel, I emplore thee tell,</p>
+<p class="i2">Dost spell it with a Ho?</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i038.png">
+<img src="images/i038.png" width="100%" alt="POLITICS AND GALLANTRY" /></a>
+<h3>POLITICS AND GALLANTRY</h3>
+<p><i>First 'Arry.</i> "Hay, wot's this 'ere Rosebery a torkin' abaat? Bless'd
+if he ain't a goin' to do awy with the Lords!"</p>
+<p><i>Second 'Arry (more of a Don Juan than a Politician).</i> "Do awy with the
+'ole bloomin' lot o' Lords, if he likes, as long as he don't do away
+with the lidies!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i039.png">
+<img src="images/i039.png" width="100%" alt="Poor likeness." /></a>
+<h3>"AND <i>SHE</i> OUGHT TO KNOW!"</h3>
+<p>"That's supposed to be a portograph of Lady Solsbury. But, bless yer, it
+ain't like her a bit in private!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i040.png">
+<img src="images/i040.png" width="100%" alt="AUNT UPON THE CLIFF" /></a>
+<h3>'ARRY'S AUNT UPON THE CLIFF</h3>
+<p>A study in perspective done by 'Arry with a 'and camera.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>ECHO'S ANSWERS</h2>
+<blockquote><p><i>To a Cockney Inquirer who consults her concerning the inevitable Annual
+"Outing" and its probable issues.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> What subject sets me worrying and doubting?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> "<i>Outing.</i>"</p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> My wife suggests for family health's improving?&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Roving.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> What's the first requisite for taking pleasure?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Leisure.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> The second (for a slave to matrimony)?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Money.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> You say that woman of all founts of mischief&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Is chief.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> What is this close agreement of <i>my</i> women?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Omen.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> I fear for me they'll prove a deal too clever?</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Ever.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> What is the manner of my buxom Mary?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Airy.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> And what's her goal in every hint and notion?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Ocean.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> How recommends she Ramsgate, shrimpy, sandy?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>'Andy.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> Whereas <i>I</i> hold it at this season torrid?&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>'Orrid!</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> And hint, with a faint view to scare or stop her?&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>'Opper!</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> (Meaning the <i>Pulex</i>). Answers she politely?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Lightly.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> How then am I inclined to view the mater?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>'ate her.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> What feel I when she hints at sea-side clothing?</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Loathing.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> Mention of what makes all my family scoffers?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Coffers.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> Then if I storm, what word breaks sequent stillness?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Illness!</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> What feels a man when women 'gin to blubber?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Lubber.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> What is the show of patience that may follow?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Hollow!</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> What would the sex when it assumes that virtue?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Hurt you.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> What's the result of halting and misgiving?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Giving.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> What is man's share anent this yearly yearning?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Earning.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer.</i> What's the chief issue of this seaward flowing?</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Owing.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Inquirer</i>. How long before I'm free of tradesmen's pages?</p>
+
+<p><i>Echo.</i> <i>Ages!</i></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">The Moors.</span></h3>
+
+<p>Our Cockney correspondent says that the birds are very wild, and that
+the heath being extremely slippery, the attempt to run after them is apt
+to be attended with numerous falls, especially in patent-leather boots.
+He says the exercise is fatiguing in the extreme, and complains that
+there are no cabs to be had on the hills though there are plenty of
+flies.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Double Cockney Conundrum for the Derby Day.</span></h3>
+<p>"What eminent composer would in England have probably been 'in the ring'?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>'Aydn.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because who ever 'eard of 'Aydn alone? Ain't it always a '<i>Aydn and
+abettin</i>'? Eh? Now then! Come up, can't yer!"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i041.png">
+<img src="images/i041.png" width="100%" alt="Euphemism" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Euphemism</span>.</h3>
+<p><i>Cab Tout (exasperated by the persistent attentions of constable).</i>
+"Look 'ere, ole lightnin'-ketcher, w'ere the missin' word are yer
+shovin' us to?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i042.png">
+<img src="images/i042.png" width="100%" alt="wheelin' a bit" /></a>
+<p><i>Coster (to acquaintance, who has been away for some
+months).</i> "Wot are yer bin doin' all this time?"</p>
+<p><i>(Bill Robbins who has been "doing time").</i> "Oh I 've bin wheelin' a
+bit, ole man&mdash;wheelin' a bit!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i043.png">
+<img src="images/i043.png" width="100%" alt="Buy a comb" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">He Thought He was Safe.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Irascible Old Gentleman.</i> "Buy a comb! What the devil should I buy a
+comb for? You don't see any hair on my head, do you?"</p>
+<p><i>Unlicensed Hawker.</i> "Lor' bless yer, sir!&mdash;yer don't want no 'air on
+yer 'ead for a tooth-comb!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i044.png">
+<img src="images/i044.png" width="100%" alt="QUESTION OF TASTE" /></a>
+<h3>A QUESTION OF TASTE</h3>
+<p><i>Liz (to Emily).</i> "Mind yer, it's all roight so fur as it goes. All I
+sez is, it wants a fevver or two, or a bit o' plush somewhares, to give
+it what I call <i>stoyle</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">The Land of the 'Arry'uns.</span>&mdash;'Am'stead 'eath.</center>
+<br />
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center>When a vulgar husband drops his h's, a good wife drops her eyes.</center>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i045.png">
+<img src="images/i045.png" width="100%" alt="THE SNOW CURE" /></a>
+<h3>THE SNOW CURE!!</h3>
+<p><i>Fiendish Little Boy (to elderly gentleman, who has come a cropper for
+the fourth time in a hundred yards).</i> "'Ere I say, guv'nor, you're fair
+wallerin' in it this mornin'! H'anyone 'ud think as you'd bin hordered
+it by your medical man!!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i046.png">
+<img src="images/i046.png" width="100%" alt="OPEN TO DOUBT" /></a>
+<h3>OPEN TO DOUBT</h3>
+<p><i>Ostler (dubiously, to 'Arry, who is trying to mount on the wrong
+side).</i> "Beg pard'n, sir, I suppose you're quite accustomed to 'osses,
+sir?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>NOTES BY A COCKNEY NATURALIST</h2>
+
+<p>There are various kinds of larks to be observed by Cockney naturalists,
+which are more or less, and rather less than more, indigenous to London.
+There is first of all the cage lark (<i>Alauda Miserrima</i>) which is
+chiefly found on grass-plats measuring about two inches square, and may
+be heard singing plaintively in many a back slum. Then there is the mud
+lark (<i>Alauda Greenwichiensis</i>), which is principally seen towards
+nightfall on the shores of the river, when the whitebait is in season.
+This little lark is a migratory bird, and flits from place to place in
+quest of anything worth picking up that may happen to be thrown to it.
+Finally, there is the street lark (<i>Alauda Nocturna</i>), which is known to
+most policemen in the neighbourhood of the Haymarket, and the like
+nocturnal haunts.</p>
+
+<p>As a gratifying proof of our progressing civilisation, there has been of
+recent years a very marked decrease in the number of white mice, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>
+monkeys dressed as soldiers, exhibited by organ-grinders in the London
+streets. Trained dogs appear, however, decidedly more numerous, and
+performing canaries may be met with not infrequently in the squares of
+the West End. The naturalist should note, moreover, that the learned
+British pig (<i>Porcus Sapiens Britannicus</i>) which, within the memory of
+men who are still living, used commonly to infest the fairs near the
+metropolis, has recently well nigh completely disappeared and is
+believed by sundry naturalists to be utterly extinct.</p>
+
+<p>The rum shrub (<i>Shrubbus Curiosus</i>) which, although deserving of close
+investigation has somehow escaped mention in the pages of Linnæus, is
+found in great profusion in the purlieus of Whitechapel, as well as
+other parts of London where dram-drinkers do congregate. It may be
+generally discovered in proximity to the Pot-tree (<i>Arbor
+Pewteriferens</i>), which may be readily recognised by its metallic fruit.</p>
+
+<p>The common cat of the metropolis (<i>Felis Catterwaulans</i>) is remarkable,
+especially for the exceeding frequency and shrillness of its cries when
+it goes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> upon the tiles, or proceeds to other spots of feline popular
+resort. Sleep becomes impossible within earshot of its yellings, and the
+injury they cause to property as well as human temper is immense. It
+has, indeed, been roughly estimated that thirty thousand water-jugs are
+annually sacrificed, within a circuit of not more than six miles from
+St. Paul's, by being hurled from bedroom windows with the aim to stop
+these squalling feline "Voices of the night."</p>
+
+<p>A certain proof that oysters are amphibious may be noted in the fact
+that they always build their grottoes in the courts and the back streets
+of the metropolis where, in the month of August, with extravagant
+profusion, their shells are yearly cast.</p>
+
+<p>The scarlet-coated lobster (<i>Le Homard Militaire</i>, Cuvier) has been
+frequently discovered on the shores of the Serpentine, or basking by the
+margin of the water in St. James's Park. This crustacean, when treated
+well, will drink like a fish, excepting that, unlike a fish, he does not
+confine himself to water for his drink. His shell (jacket) is of a
+bright red colour, which is not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> produced, as in the lobster species
+generally, by the agency of the caloric in the act of being boiled. The
+scarlet-coated lobster leads, while in London, a very peaceful life,
+notwithstanding his presumed propensities for fighting.</p>
+
+<p>If we may credit the statistics which, with no slight labour, have been
+recently collected, no fewer than five million and eleven blue-bottles
+are annually slaughtered in the butchers' shops of London, before
+depositing their ova in the primest joints of meat. The number of the
+smaller flies which, merely in the City, are every year destroyed for
+buzzing round the bald heads of irritable bank clerks, amounts, it has
+been calculated, to one million three hundred thousand and thirteen.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">From Taplow.</span>&mdash;<i>First 'Arry.</i> I'll tell you a good name for a riverside
+inn&mdash;"<i>The Av-a-launch."</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Second 'Arry.</i> I'll tell you a better&mdash;"The 'Ave-a-lunch." Come along!</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i047.png">
+<img src="images/i047.png" width="100%" alt="ILE wot yer drinks" /></a>
+<p>"Did yer order any ile round the corner?"</p>
+<p>"What do you mean by ile? Do you mean oil?"</p>
+<p>"Naw. Not ile, but ILE wot yer drinks!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i048.png">
+<img src="images/i048.png" width="100%" alt="Question of the Senses" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">A Question of the Senses.</span></h3>
+<p><i>First County Councillor.</i> "I'm told the <i>acoustics</i> of this hall leave
+much to be desired, Mr. Brown!"</p>
+<p><i>Second C. C. (delicately sniffing).</i> "Indeed, Sir Pompey? Can't say as
+I perceive anythink amiss, myself; and my nose is pretty sharp, too!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i049.png">
+<img src="images/i049.png" width="100%" alt="Quick Work" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Quick Work.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Guttersnipe.</i> "Please muvver wants sixpence on this 'ere fryin' pan."</p>
+<p><i>Pawnbroker.</i> "Hallo! it's <i>hot</i>!"</p>
+<p><i>Guttersnipe.</i> "Yus, muvver's just cooked the sossidges, an' wants the
+money for the beer!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i050.png">
+<img src="images/i050.png" width="80%" alt="I'm so blooming dry" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">We mustn't always judge by appearances.</span></h3>
+<p>"I say, Bill, you aren't got such a thing as the price of 'arf a pint
+about you, are yer? I'm so blooming dry!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i051.png">
+<img src="images/i051.png" width="100%" alt="Philanthropic Coster" /></a>
+<p><i>Philanthropic Coster' (who has been crying
+"Perry-wink-wink-wink!" till he's hoarse&mdash;and no buyers).</i> "I wonder
+what the p'or unfort'nate creeters in these 'ere low neighb'r'oods do
+live on!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/i052.png">
+<img src="images/i052.png" width="100%" alt="RUDE INQUIRY" /></a>
+<h3>RUDE INQUIRY</h3>
+<p><i>Street Arabs.</i> "Hoo curls yer 'air, gov'nour?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i053.png">
+<img src="images/i053.png" width="100%" alt="'As yer motor broke down" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Billingsgate Up-to-date.</span></h3>
+<p><i>'Enery.</i> "'Ullo, Chawley? Wot's up? 'As yer motor broke down?"</p>
+<p><i>Chawley (whose "moke" is a "bit below himself").</i> "Yuss, smashed me
+'sparking plug.'"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i054.png">
+<img src="images/i054.png" width="100%" alt="navigatin' the Hark" /></a>
+<p><i>First "Growler."</i> "'Ulloah, William, where are yer
+takin' that little lot?"</p>
+<p><i>Second "Growler."</i> "Hararat! Don't yer see I'm navigatin' the Hark?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i055.png">
+<img src="images/i055.png" width="100%" alt="Looks the gentleman" /></a>
+<p><i>'Arriet.</i> "I will say this for Bill, 'e <i>do</i> look the
+gentleman!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i056.png">
+<img src="images/i056.png" width="100%" alt="Fifth o' November" /></a>
+<p><i>First Urchin.</i> "Fifth o' November, sir! Only a copper,
+sir! Jist a penny, sir!"</p>
+<p><i>Second Urchin.</i> "Let 'im alone. <i>Cawn't yer see 'e's one of the
+family!</i>"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>SONGS FOR THE NATION</h2>
+
+<center>"Λαυς αρε α λυξυρυ σογγς εσσεντιαλΛαυς αρε α λυξυρυ σογγς εσσεντιαλ"</center>
+
+<p class="author"><i>'Arrystophanes.</i></p>
+
+<p>It is evident that the nation is yearning for singable songs in the
+'Arry dialect. The late lamented Artemus Ward would probably have said,
+"Let her yearn"; but a stern sense of duty impels me to try and meet the
+need, created by the <i>Daily Chronicle</i>. I have a comforting impression
+that all that is necessary to insure correctness is to "chinge" as many
+"a"s as possible into "i"s. By this means I secure the "local
+colouring," which, by the way, has undergone a complete change since
+Dickens spelt Weller "with a wee, my lord." A catchword, à propos of
+nothing, is always useful, so I have duly provided it.</p>
+
+<h2>'ARRY THE OPTIMIST</h2>
+
+<center>I.</center>
+
+<div class="poem w36"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i2">Oh! you should see</p>
+<p class="i2">My gal and me</p>
+<p class="i0">(Mariar is 'er nime),</p>
+<p class="i2">When we go daown</p>
+<p class="i2">To Brighton taown</p>
+<p class="i0">To 'ave a gorjus time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">She wears sich feathers in 'er 'at,</p>
+<p class="i2">She's beautiful and guy,</p>
+<p class="i0">But it ain't all beer and skittles&mdash;flat</p>
+<p class="i2">And 'ere's the reason why:</p>
+<p class="i0"><i>Refrine&mdash;</i></p>
+<p class="i2">She 'urries me, she worries me,</p>
+<p class="i4">To ketch the bloomin' trine;</p>
+<p class="i2">She 'ustles me, she bustles me,</p>
+<p class="i4">She grumbles 'arf the time:</p>
+<p class="i2">It's "'Arry do," and "'Arry don't,"</p>
+<p class="i2">Which "'Arry" will, or "'Arry" won't</p>
+<p class="i4">(It goes against the grine),</p>
+<p class="i2">But&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">(<i>Triumphantly.</i>)</p>
+<p class="i6">We 'as a 'appy 'ollidy,</p>
+<p class="i2">We gets there all the sime.</p>
+<p class="i6">&mdash;'Urry up, 'Arry.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<center>II.</center>
+
+<div class="poem w36"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i8">And when we reach</p>
+<p class="i8">The Brighton beach</p>
+<p class="i6">It's sure to pour with rine</p>
+<p class="i8">A pub is not</p>
+<p class="i8">A 'appy spot</p>
+<p class="i6">For us to set and drine</p>
+<p class="i0">Yet there we set and tike our beer</p>
+<p class="i2">And while awy the dy,</p>
+<p class="i0">Though we don't 'ave words, no bloomin' fear</p>
+<p class="i2">Mariar 'as 'er sy.</p>
+<p class="i0"><i>Refrine&mdash;</i></p>
+<p class="i2">'Er langwidge is for sangwidges,</p>
+<p class="i4">She's sorry that she cime;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+<p class="i6">The weather's wrong, 'er feather's wrong,</p>
+<p class="i8">I 'as to tike the blime.</p>
+<p class="i6">It's "'Arry" 'ere, and "'Arry" there,</p>
+<p class="i6">And "'Arry, you're a bloomin' bear,"</p>
+<p class="i8">And "'Arry, it's a shime"&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">(<i>Spoken.</i>)&mdash;Which is 'ard on a feller! And then we 'as</p>
+<p class="i0">to ketch the bloomin' trine again, and she <i>do</i> talk, but</p>
+<p class="i0">never mind&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i6">(<i>Brightly.</i>)</p>
+<p class="i8">We've 'ad a 'appy 'ollidy,</p>
+<p class="i6">We gits 'ome all the sime.</p>
+<p class="i8">&mdash;'Urry up, 'Arry!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Cockney Sport Extraordinary.</span></h3>
+
+<p>Well-known sporting character, residing at Putney, being unable to reach
+the moors this season, and having lost his gun, has lately amused
+himself by bringing down several brace of grouse by means of the
+Brompton omnibus.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">At the Zoo. (A Fact).</span>&mdash;<i>'Arriet (looking at the Java sparrows).</i> Wot's
+them? Sparrerkeets?</p>
+
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> Sparrerkeets be 'anged&mdash;them's live 'umming birds.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i057.png">
+<img src="images/i057.png" width="100%" alt="Objects of the Sea Shore" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Common Objects of the Sea Shore.</span></h3>
+<p><i>First seaside saddle polisher.</i> "Wot cheer, 'Arry? 'Ow are yer gettin'
+on?"</p>
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "First-rate, old pal. Only this&mdash;beggar always&mdash;bumps&mdash;at the
+wrong&mdash;time!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i059.png">
+<img src="images/i059.png" width="100%" alt="Under Correction" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Under Correction.</span></h3>
+<p>Fare. "Hans Mansions."</p>
+<p><i>Cabby.</i> "<i>Queen</i> Hanne's Mansions, I suppose you mean, miss?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i060.png">
+<img src="images/i060.png" width="100%" alt="Penny 'addick" /></a>
+<h3>"Penny 'addick."</h3>
+<p>"Finen?"</p>
+<p>"No; thick 'un!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i061.png">
+<img src="images/i061.png" width="100%" alt="Bloomin' Germans" /></a>
+<p><i>First Frenchman.</i> "Ah, mon cher ami!"</p>
+<p><i>Second Frenchman.</i> "Ah, c'est mon cher Alphonse!"</p>
+<p><i>British Workman.</i> "Bloomin' Germans!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i062.png">
+<img src="images/i062.png" width="100%" alt="wot are we going ter do" /></a>
+<p><i>Clerk of Booking-Office.</i> "There is <i>no</i> first class by
+this train, sir."</p>
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "Then wot are we going ter do, Bill?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i063.png">
+<img src="images/i063.png" width="100%" alt="Fader's gettin' better" /></a>
+<p>"Fader's gettin' better. 'E's beginnin' ter swear again!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i064.png">
+<img src="images/i064.png" width="100%" alt="Vendor of Pirated Songs" /></a>
+<p><i>Vendor of Pirated Songs.</i> "Er y'are, lidy! ''Oly City',
+'Bu'ful Star,' 'Hi cawn't think why Hi lubs yer, but Hi do!'"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>'ARRY ON HIS 'OLIDAY</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p><i>Being an epistle from that notorious and ubiquitous person, luxuriating
+for the time in rural parts, to his chum Charlie, confined in town.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem w36"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Wha' cheer, my dear Charlie? 'Ow are yer? I promised I'd drop yer a line.</p>
+<p class="i0">I'm out on the trot for a fortnit; and ain't it golumpshusly fine?</p>
+<p class="i0">Bin dooing the swell pretty proper, I beg to assure yer, old man.</p>
+<p class="i0">Jest go it tip-top while you're at it, and blow the expense, is <i>my</i> plan.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Bin took for a nob, and no error this time; which my tailor's A 1.</p>
+<p class="i0">The cut of these bags, sir, beats Poole <i>out of</i> fits. (Are yer fly to the pun?)</p>
+<p class="i0">And this gridiron pattern in treacle and mustard is something uneek,</p>
+<p class="i0">As the girls&mdash;but there, Charlie, <i>you</i> know me, and so there's no call for to speak.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">My merstach is a coming on proper&mdash;that fetches 'em, Charlie, my boy;</p>
+<p class="i0">Though one on 'em called me young spiky, which doubtless was meant to annoy.</p>
+<p class="i0">But, bless yer! 'twas only a touch of the green-eyed, 'acos I looked sweet</p>
+<p class="i0">On a tidy young parcel in pink as 'ung out in the very same street.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">O Charlie, such larks as I'm 'aving. To toddle about on the sands,</p>
+<p class="i0">And watch the blue beauties a-bathing, and spot the sick muffs as they lands,</p>
+<p class="i0">Awful flabby and white in the gills, and with hoptics so sheepishly sad,</p>
+<p class="i0">And twig 'em go green as we chaff 'em; I tell yer it isn't half bad.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Then, s'rimps! Wy, I pooty near lives on 'em; got arf a pocketful here,</p>
+<p class="i0">There's a flavour of bird's-eye about 'em; but that's soon took off by the beer.</p>
+<p class="i0">The "bitter" round here is jest lummy, and as for their soda-and-b.,</p>
+<p class="i0">It's ekal to "fizz" and no error, and suits this small child to a t.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The weeds as I've blown is a caution;&mdash;I'm nuts on a tuppenny smoke.</p>
+<p class="i0">Don't care for the baths, but there's sailing, and rollicking rides on a moke.</p>
+<p class="i0">I've sung comic songs on the cliffs after dark, and wot's fun if that ain't?</p>
+<p class="i0">And I've chiselled my name in a church on the cheek of a rummy stone saint.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">So, Charlie, I think you will see, I've been doing the tourist to rights.</p>
+<p class="i0">Good grub and prime larks in the daytime, and billiards and bitter at nights;</p>
+<p class="i0">That's wot <i>I</i> calls 'oliday-making, my pippin. I wish <i>you</i> was here,</p>
+<p class="i0">Jest wouldn't we go it extensive! But now I am off for the pier.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">To ogle the girls. 'Ow they likes it! though some of their dragons looks blue.</p>
+<p class="i0">But lor'! if a chap <i>has</i> a way with the sex, what the doose can he do?</p>
+<p class="i0">The toffs may look thunder and tommy on me and my spicey rig out,</p>
+<p class="i0">But they don't stare yours faithfully down, an' it's all nasty envy, no doubt.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Ta! ta! There's a boat coming in, and the sea has been roughish all day;</p>
+<p class="i0">All our fellows will be on the watch, and <i>I</i> mustn't be out of the way.</p>
+<p class="i0">Carn't yer manige to run down on Sunday? I tell yer it's larks, and no kid!</p>
+<p class="regards">Yours bloomingly,</p>
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">'Arry.</span></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">P.S.&mdash;I have parted with close on four quid!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Poison in the Bowl.</span>&mdash;<i>Hot weather.</i>&mdash;Advice by our own Cockney. Don't
+put ice in your champagne. It's pison. How do I know this? Because it
+comes from Venom Lake.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Seasonable.</span>&mdash;<i>'Arry's friend.</i> What's the proper dinner for Ash
+Wednesday?</p>
+
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> Why, 'ash mutton, o' course.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i065.png">
+<img src="images/i065.png" width="100%" alt="Self-respect" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Self-respect.</span></h3>
+<p><i>The Missus.</i> "Oh, Jem, you said you'd give me your photergrarf. Now,
+let's go in, and get it done."</p>
+<p><i>Jem.</i> "Oh, I dessay! an' 'ave my 'Carte de Wisete' stuck up in the
+winder along o' all these 'ere bally-gals an' 'igh-church parsons! No,
+Sairey!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i066.png">
+<img src="images/i066.png" width="100%" alt="'Amlet" /></a>
+<h3>THE TRIALS OF OUR ARTISTIC FRIEND, LEONARDO DA TOMPKINS</h3>
+<center>(<i>Who lives in an unappreciative Suburb</i>)</center>
+<p><i>'Arriet (nudging her lidy friend, and in an ostentatious
+stage-whisper).</i> "'Amlet!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<img src="images/i067.png" width="100%" alt="Why don't you sound the H" />
+<p><i>Tenor (singing).</i> "Oh, 'appy, 'appy, 'appy be thy
+dreams&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+<p><i>Professor.</i> "Stop, stop! Why don't you sound the H?"</p>
+<p><i>Tenor.</i> "It don't go no 'igher than G!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i068.png">
+<img src="images/i068.png" width="100%" alt="two boys talking" /></a>
+<p><i>First Newspaper Boy.</i> "Hullo, Bill! Who's 'e?"</p>
+<p><i>Second Newspaper Boy.</i> "I suppose 'e's the North Pole as 'as just been
+discovered!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i069.png">
+<img src="images/i069.png" width="100%" alt="Gorgeous-looking Individual" /></a>
+<br /><p><i>Gorgeous-looking Individual.</i> "Most 'strordinary
+weather, ain't it? First it's 'ot, then it's cold. Blow me, if one knows
+'ow to dress!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i070.png">
+<img src="images/i070.png" width="100%" alt="wot 's a Prodigal" /></a>
+<p>"I say, Bill, wot 's a Prodigal?"</p>
+<p>"Why, a Prodigal's a sort o' cove as keeps on coming back!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i071.png">
+<img src="images/i071.png" width="100%" alt="NOT WHAT SHE EXPECTED" /></a>
+<h3>NOT WHAT SHE EXPECTED</h3>
+<p><span class="smcap">Scene</span>&mdash;<i>Canal side, Sunday morning</i></p>
+<p><i>Lady.</i> "Do you know where little boys go to who bathe on Sunday?"</p>
+<p><i>First Arab.</i> "Yus. It's farder up the canal side. But you can't go.
+Girls ain't allowed!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>'ARRY ON 'APPINESS</h2>
+
+<div class="poem w36"><div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="smcap">Dear Charlie,</span></p>
+<p class="i6">A 'Appy New Year to yer! That's the straight tip for to-day,</p>
+<p class="i0">So I'm bound to be in it, old chip, though things don't <i>look</i> remarkable gay.</p>
+<p class="i0">I inclose you a card&mdash;a correct one, I 'ope, though it strikes one as queer</p>
+<p class="i0">That such picters is thought <i>apprypo</i> this perticular time of the year.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">You'll observe there's a hangel in muslin a twisting 'erself all awry,</p>
+<p class="i0">With some plums, happle-blossoms, and marigolds, backed by a dab o' blue sky.</p>
+<p class="i0">Dekkyrative it's called, so the mivvy informed me who nobbled my tanner;</p>
+<p class="i0"><i>I</i> call it a little bit mixed, like the art on a Odd-Fellow's banner.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">But, bless you, it's all of a piece, Charlie&mdash;life is so muddled with rot</p>
+<p class="i0">That it takes rayther more than a judge or a jury to tell yer wot's wot.</p>
+<p class="i0">Whether knifing a boy 'cos one's peckish means murder if lyings are libels,</p>
+<p class="i0">Seem questions as bothers the big wigs, in spite of their blue books and Bibles.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Where are we, old pal? that's the question. Perhaps it would add to one's ease</p>
+<p class="i0">If life wos declared a "mixed wobble," it's motter a "go as you please."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+<p class="i0">But 'tisn't all cinder-path, Charlie, wus luck! if it was, with "all in,"</p>
+<p class="i0">You wouldn't go fur wrong, I fancy, in backing "yours truly" to win.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"A 'Appy New Year!" That's the cackle all over the shop like to-day.</p>
+<p class="i0">Wot's 'Appiness? Praps Mister Ruskin and little Lord Garmoyle will say.</p>
+<p class="i0">You an' me's got <i>our</i> notions of yum-yum, as isn't fur wide o' the mark,</p>
+<p class="i0">But who'll give us change for 'em, Charlie? Ah! that's where we're left in the dark.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The Reform Bill won't do it, my pippin, on that you may lay your last dollar.</p>
+<p class="i0">The fact is this 'Appy New Year fake is 'oller, mate, hutterly 'oller.</p>
+<p class="i0">'Twon't fly&mdash;like the Christmas card hangels, it doesn't fit into the facks;</p>
+<p class="i0">All it does is to spread tommy-rot, and to break all the postmen's poor backs.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">You'll be thinking I've got the blue-mouldies, old man, and you won't be fur hout.</p>
+<p class="i0">Funds low with yours truly, my bloater, no chances of getting about.</p>
+<p class="i0">Larks, any amount of 'em, going, advertisements gassing like fun,</p>
+<p class="i0">But 'Arry, for once in the way, 's a stone-broker and not in the run.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">It's cutting, that's wot it is, <i>cutting</i>. I'm so used to leading the field,</p>
+<p class="i0">That place as fust-fly at life's fences is one as I <i>don't</i> like to yield,</p>
+<p class="i0">Espechly to one like Bill Blossit&mdash;no style, not a bit about Bill!</p>
+<p class="i0">And they talk of a 'Appy New Year, mate, and cackle o' peace and goodwill!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Oh yus, I'd goodwill 'em, Bill Blossit and false Fanny Friswell, a lot!</p>
+<p class="i0">They are off to the world's fair to-night, sir, and <i>that's</i> wy I say it's such rot.</p>
+<p class="i0">If form such as mine's to go 'obbling whilst mugginses win out o' sight,</p>
+<p class="i0">I say the world's handicap's wrong, mate, and Christmas cards won't set it right.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Lor bless yer, 'e ain't got no patter, not more than a nutmeg, Bill ain't;</p>
+<p class="i0">But the railway has taken his shop, and he's come out as fresh as new paint.</p>
+<p class="i0">And so because <i>I'm</i> out of luck, and that duffer has landed the chink,</p>
+<p class="i0">She 'ooks onto him <i>like</i> a bat to a belfry, sir! What do <i>you</i> think?</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">A 'Appy New Year? Yus, it looks like it! Charlie, old chap, I've heard tell</p>
+<p class="i0">Of parties called pessymists, writers as swear the whole world's a big sell;</p>
+<p class="i0">No doubt they've bin jilted, or jockeyed by some such a juggins as Bill;</p>
+<p class="i0">And without real jam&mdash;cash and kisses&mdash;this world is a bitterish pill.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Still, I wish you a 'Appy New Year, if you care for the kibosh, old chappie,</p>
+<p class="i0">Though 'taint 'igh art cards full o' gush and green paint'll make you and me 'appy.</p>
+<p class="i0">Wot <i>we</i> want is lucre and larks, love and lotion as much as you'll carry!</p>
+<p class="i0">Give me them, and one slap at that Bill,&mdash;They're the new year gifts to suit.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="author">'<span class="smcap">Arry.</span></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">At Scarborough.</span>&mdash;<i>'Arriet (pointing to postillions of pony-chaises).</i>
+Why do all them boys wear them jackets?</p>
+
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> There's a stoopid question! Why, they're all jockeys a-training
+for the Ledger, of course!</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Egging Him on.</span>&mdash;<i>Knowing old Gentleman.</i> Now, sir, talking of eggs, can
+you tell me where a ship lays to?</p>
+
+<p><i>Smart Youth (not in the least disconcerted).</i> Don't know, sir, unless
+it is in the hatchway.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">Retreat for Cockney Idlers.</span>&mdash;Earn nil.</center>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i072.png">
+<img src="images/i072.png" width="100%" alt="Visitor" /></a>
+<h3>AN EASTER OBJECT LESSON</h3>
+<center>(<i>At the Natural History Museum</i>)</center>
+<p><i>Visitor.</i> "Hullo! I say, I've got 'em agin! Gi' me the blue ribbon!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i073.png">
+<img src="images/i073.png" width="100%" alt="Men in collision" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">His Best "Soot."</span></h3>
+<p><i>Short-tempered Gentleman in Black (after violent collision with a
+stonemason fresh from work).</i> "Now, I'll arsk you jest to look at the
+narsty beastly mess as you 've gone and mide me in! Why, I'm simply
+smothered in some 'orrid white stuff!! Why don't yer be more
+careful!!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i074.png">
+<img src="images/i074.png" width="100%" alt="Two men talking" /></a>
+<p><span class="smcap">Overheard During one of our Recent Stormy Days.</span>&mdash;"What
+cheer, matey! Doin' any business?"</p>
+<p>"Garn! Wot yer gettin' at? I ain't 'ere to do business. I'm takin' the
+hopen hair treatment!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i075.png">
+<img src="images/i075.png" width="100%" alt="Kind to Dumb Animals" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Always be Kind to Dumb Animals.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Master.</i> "Jim!"</p>
+<p><i>Page.</i> "Yessir."</p>
+<p><i>Master.</i> "Rather a 'igh 'ill we're comin' to, ain't it?"</p>
+<p><i>Page.</i> "Very 'igh 'ill indeed, sir."</p>
+<p><i>Master.</i> "Ah! well, jest you jump down, Jim, and walk alongside a bit;
+it'll make it easier for the poor 'orse, you know."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i076.png">
+<img src="images/i076.png" width="100%" alt="Real Sympathy" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Real Sympathy.</span></h3>
+<p><i>'Arry (reading account of the war in the East).</i> "Ow, I s'y, 'Arriet,
+they've bin an' took old Li 'Ung Chang's three-heyed peacock's feathers
+all off 'im!"</p>
+<p><i>'Arriet (compassionately).</i> "Pore old feller!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i077.png">
+<img src="images/i077.png" width="100%" alt="SWEET LAVENDER" /></a>
+<h3>"SWEET LAVENDER!"</h3>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i078.png">
+<img src="images/i078.png" width="100%" alt="discussion with builder" /></a>
+<h3>"<span class="smcap">Aut Cæsar Aut Nullus.</span>"</h3>
+<p><i>Architect.</i> "What aspect would you like, Mr. Smithers?" (<i>who is about
+to build a house</i>).</p>
+<p><i>Mr. Smithers.</i> "Has Muggles"&mdash;(<i>a rival tradesman</i>)&mdash;"got a haspect?
+'Cause&mdash;mind yer, I should like mine made a good deal bigger than
+'is!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i079.png">
+<img src="images/i079.png" width="100%" alt="The Last Straw" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">The Last Straw.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Miss Effie has left her sun-shade on the other side of the rivulet. The
+chivalrous young De Korme attempts the dangerous pass in order to
+restore it to her.</i></p>
+<p><i>Obnoxiously Festive 'Arry (to him).</i> "Ho, yuss! Delighted, I'm sure!
+<i>Drop in any time you're passin'!</i>"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>'ARRY ON THE MERRY MONTH OF MAY</h2>
+
+<div class="poem w36"><div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="smcap">Dear Charlie,</span></p>
+<p class="i0">'Ow are yer, old Turmuts? Gone mouldy, or moon-struck, or wot?</p>
+<p class="i0">Sticking down in the country, like you do, I tell yer, is all tommy-rot.</p>
+<p class="i0">Its town makes a man of one, Charlie, as me and the nobs 'as found out,</p>
+<p class="i0">And a snide 'un like you should be fly to it. Carn't fancy wot you're about.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Old Ruskin, I know, sez quite t'other, but then <i>he</i> is clean off his chump.</p>
+<p class="i0">Where's the <i>life</i> in long lanes, with no gas-lamps? Their smell always give me the 'ump.</p>
+<p class="i0">Come hout on it, mate, it'll spile yer. It's May, and the season's begun,</p>
+<p class="i0">All the toffs is in town&mdash;ah! you trust 'em! <i>they</i> know where to drop on the fun.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Don't ketch <i>them</i> a-Maying, my pippin, like bloomin' old Jacks-in-the-Green,</p>
+<p class="i0">A-sloppin' about in damp medders, with never a pub to be seen.</p>
+<p class="i0">No fear! We've primroses in tons&mdash;thanks to Beakey&mdash;for them as can pay.</p>
+<p class="i0">And other larks as <i>is</i> larks, mate, they know meet in London in May.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">It is all very well, on a Sunday, for just arf a dozen or so</p>
+<p class="i0">To take a chay-cart down to Epsom, and cut down the may as yer go.</p>
+<p class="i0">I've 'ad 'igh old times on that lay, Charlie, gals, don't yer know, and all that,</p>
+<p class="i0">Returning at dusk with the beer on, and may branches all round yer 'at.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">With plenty of tuppenny smokes and 'am san'wiches, Charlie, old man,</p>
+<p class="i0">And a bit of good goods in pink musling, it ain't arf a bad sort o' plan.</p>
+<p class="i0">Concertina, in course, and tin whistle, to give 'em a rouser all round,</p>
+<p class="i0">And "chorus," all over the shop, till the winders 'll shake at the sound.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">That's "May, merry May," if yer like, mate, and does your's ancetrar a treat.</p>
+<p class="i0">But the rural's a dose as wants mixing, it won't do to swaller it neat;</p>
+<p class="i0">That's wy the Haristos and 'Arry, and all as is fly to wot's wot,</p>
+<p class="i0">Likes passing the season in London, in spite of yer poetry rot.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Country's all jolly fine in the autumn, with plenty of killing about&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">Day's rabbitin's not a bad barney, and gull-potting's lummy, no doubt;</p>
+<p class="i0">But green fields with nothink to slorter, no pubs, no theaytres, no gas!&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">No, no, it won't wash, and the muggins as tells yer it will is a hass.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">But May in "the village," my biffin, the mighty metrolopus,&mdash;ah!</p>
+<p class="i0">That's paradise, sir, and no kid, with a dash of the true lah-di-dah.</p>
+<p class="i0">Covent Garden licks Eden, I reckon, at least it'll do <i>me</i> A 1;</p>
+<p class="i0">Button-'oler and Bond Street, old pal, that's yer fair top-row sarmple for fun!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Wy, we git all the best of the country in London, with dollups chucked in.</p>
+<p class="i0"><i>Rush in herby!</i>&mdash;ascuse the Hitalian!&mdash;Ah, mate, ony wish I'd the tin;</p>
+<p class="i0">I'd take 'em a trot, and no flounders! It's 'ard, bloomin' 'ard, my dear boy,</p>
+<p class="i0">When form as is form ain't no fling, as a German ud say, <i>fo der quoy.</i></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0"><i>I</i>'d make Mister Ruskin sit up, and the rest of the 'owlers see snakes,</p>
+<p class="i0">With their rot about old Mother Nature, as <i>never</i> don't make no mistakes.</p>
+<p class="i0">Yah! Nature's a fraud and a fizzle, that is if yer can't fake her out</p>
+<p class="i0">With the taste of a man about town, ony sort as knows wot he 's about.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Well, London's all yum-yum jest now. Hexhibitions all hover the shop,</p>
+<p class="i0">I tell yer it keeps one a-movin'. <i>I</i>'m on the perpetual 'op,</p>
+<p class="i0">Like the prince. Aitch har aitch <i>is</i> a stayer, a fair royal Rowell, I say.</p>
+<p class="i0">(I landed a quid on <i>that</i> "Mix," but I carnt git the beggar to pay.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"Inventories" open, you know. Rayther dry, but the <i>extrys</i> O.K.</p>
+<p class="i0">It's the extrys, I 'old, make up life, arf the pleasure and most o' the pay.</p>
+<p class="i0">Yus, princes and painters, philanterpists, premiers and patriots may gush,</p>
+<p class="i0">But wot ud become of their shows if it weren't for the larks and the lush?</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Lor bless yer, dear boy, picter galleries, balls, sandwich sworries and all,&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">It's fun and the fizz makes 'em go, not the picter, the speech or the squall.</p>
+<p class="i0">Keep yer eye on the buffet's my maxim, look out for the "jam" and the laugh,</p>
+<p class="i0">And you'll collar the pick o' the basket, the rest is all sordust and chaff.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">That's philosophy, Charlie, my pippin; the parsons and prigs may demur,</p>
+<p class="i0">But if you would foller <i>their</i> tip, wy, you'll 'ave to go thundering fur.</p>
+<p class="i0">Ah! "May, merry May!" up in town, fills your snide 'un as full as he'll carry</p>
+<p class="i0">Of laughter and lotion. That's gospel to toffs and yours scrumptiously,</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">'Arry.</span></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i080.png">
+<img src="images/i080.png" width="100%" alt="Judge of Character" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">A Judge of Character.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Sympathetic Friend (to sweeper).</i> "What's the use o' arstin' <i>'im</i>,
+Bill? <i>'E</i> don't give away nothink less than a Gover'ment appointment,
+<i>'e</i> don't!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i081.png">
+<img src="images/i081.png" width="100%" alt="Two men in conversation" /></a>
+<h3>A BI-METALLISTIC DISCUSSION</h3>
+<p><i>Jim.</i> "What's this 'ere 'Bi-metallism,' Bill?"</p>
+<p><i>Bill (of superior intelligence).</i> "Well, yer see, Jim, it 's heither a
+licens'd wittlers' or a teetotal dodge. The wages 'll be paid in silver,
+and no more coppers. So you can't get no arf-pint nor hanythink under a
+sixpence or a thrip'ny. Then you heither leaves it alone, and takes to
+water like a duck, or you runs up a score."</p>
+<p><i>Jim.</i> "Ah! But if there ain't no more coppers, 'ow about the 'buses and
+the hunderground rileway?"</p>
+<p><i>Bill (profoundly).</i> "Ah!"</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Left sitting.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i082.png">
+<img src="images/i082.png" width="100%" alt="Cockney Macbeth" /></a>
+<p><i>Cockney Macbeth (a trifle "fluffy" in his words) bellows
+out:</i> "'Ang out our banners on the houtward walls! The cry is&mdash;'Let 'em
+<i>all</i> come!'"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i083.png">
+<img src="images/i083.png" width="100%" alt="King's shilling" /></a>
+<p><i>Hedwin.</i> "Hangeleener! Won't yer 'ear me? Wot 'ud yer sy
+if I told yer as I'd 'took the shillin'?"</p>
+<p><i>Hangelina.</i> "Sy? Why&mdash;'halves'!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i084.png">
+<img src="images/i084.png" width="100%" alt="Man Cleaning  Horse" /></a>
+<p><i>Man Cleaning the Horse.</i> "Naa then lazy, w'y don't yer
+do some work?"</p>
+<p><i>New Hand (loafing).</i> "I'm agoin' to."</p>
+<p><i>M. C. H.</i> "Wot are yer goin' ter do?"</p>
+<p><i>N. H.</i> "'Elp you."</p>
+<p><i>M. C. H.</i> "Come alorng, then."</p>
+<p><i>N. H.</i> "All rite. You go orn, I'm agoin' ter do the 'issing."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<img src="images/i085.png" width="100%" alt="Men with cow" />
+<h3><span class="smcap">"Back to the Land."</span></h3>
+<p><i>Old Farmer Worsell (who is experimenting with unemployed from London).</i>
+"Now then, young feller, 'ow long are you goin' to be with that 'ere
+milk?"</p>
+<p><i>Young Feller.</i> "I caunt 'elp it, guv'nor. I bin watchin' 'er arf an
+hour, and she ain't laid any yit".</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i086.png">
+<img src="images/i086.png" width="100%" alt="Hold my broom" /></a>
+<p>"'Ere, just 'old my broom a minute. I'm just goin' up the
+street. If any of my regular customers comes, just arst 'em to wait a
+bit!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i087.png">
+<img src="images/i087.png" width="100%" alt="Art in Whitechapel" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Art in Whitechapel.</span></h3>
+<p>"Well, that's what I calls a himpossible persition to get yerself
+into!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i088.png">
+<img src="images/i088.png" width="100%" alt="Men looking in shop window" /></a>
+</div>
+<p><i>Loafer (looking at a hundred pound dressing-bag).</i> "I
+wonder wot sort of a bloke it is as wants a bag of tools like that to
+doss 'isself up with?"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i089.png">
+<img src="images/i089.png" width="100%" alt="Men dicussing swimming" /></a>
+<p>"Comin' up to 'Yde Park to 'ave a bave, 'Arry?"</p>
+<p>"Yers&mdash;an' 'ave all me cloves run orf wiv. Not if <i>I</i> know it!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">The Cockney's Address to the Sea.</span>&mdash;"With all thy faults I love thee
+<i>still</i>."</p>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3>A COSTERMONGER'S CANT</h3>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Bill Coster said, "See them two fish?</p>
+<p class="i2">Them there's both females, mister;</p>
+<p class="i0">A pilchard she in this here dish:</p>
+<p class="i2">That 'ere's her errin' sister."</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<p><span class="smcap">For the Use of Schools.</span>&mdash;(<i>By a Cockney</i>). Why should not Dr. Watts'
+poems be read by youth?</p>
+
+<p>Because they contain <i>Hymn-morality</i>.</p>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<h3>A LINE FROM BROWNING</h3>
+
+<p>(<i>For hairdressers who recommend a wonderful "Restorative," and are
+careless of the aspirate.</i>)</p>
+
+<p>"An everlasting wash of air."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">A Cockney Con.</span>&mdash;When may a man really be supposed to be hungry?</p>
+
+<p>When he goes to Nor-(gnaw)wood for his dinner.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i090.png">
+<img src="images/i090.png" width="100%" alt="Very Considerate" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">So Very Considerate.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Stout Coster.</i> "Where are ye goin' to, Bill?"</p>
+<p><i>Bill.</i> "Inter the country for a nice drive, bein' Bank 'Olidy."</p>
+<p><i>Stout Coster.</i> "Same 'ere. I sy! don't yer think we might swop misseses
+just for a few hours? It would be so much kinder to the hanimile!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i091.png">
+<img src="images/i091.png" width="100%%" alt="man and woman talking" /></a>
+<p><i>'Arry (whose "Old Dutch" has been shopping, and has kept
+him waiting a considerable time).</i> "Wot d'yer mean, keepin' me standin'
+abaat 'ere like a bloomin' fool?"</p>
+<p><i>'Arriet.</i> "<i>I</i> can't 'elp the way yer stand, 'Arry."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i092.png">
+<img src="images/i092.png" width="100%" alt="Very Dry Weather" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Very Dry Weather.</span></h3>
+<p>"'Ooray, Bill! 'Ere's luck! I gorr' 'nother tanner! Leshgobackag'in!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i093.png">
+<img src="images/i093.png" width="100%" alt="Two men talking" /></a>
+<h3>'EARD ON 'AMPSTEAD 'EATH</h3>
+<p>&mdash;&mdash;"And talk of our bein' be'ind the French in general edication, why
+all I can say is as it's the commonest thing in Paree, for instance
+(over fust-class restorongs, too, mind yer), to see 'dinner' spelt with
+only one 'N'!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i094.png">
+<img src="images/i094.png" width="100%" alt="Diagnosis" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Diagnosis.</span></h3>
+<p>"I can tell you what <i>you're</i> suffering from, my good fellow! You're
+suffering from <i>acne</i>!"</p>
+<p>"<i>'Ackney?</i> Why, that's just what <i>t'other</i> medical gent he told me! <i>I
+only wish I'd never been near the place!</i>"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE CAD'S CALENDAR</h2>
+
+<div class="poem w32"><div class="stanza">
+<center><span class="smcap">January.</span></center>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">January! Tailor's bill comes in.</p>
+<p class="i0">Blow that blooming snip! I'm short o' tin.</p>
+<p class="i0">Werry much enjoyed my Autumn caper,</p>
+<p class="i0">But three quid fifteen do look queer paper.</p>
+<p class="i0">Want another new rig out, wuss luck,</p>
+<p class="i0">Gurl at Boodle's bar seems awful struck,</p>
+<p class="i0">Like to take her to the pantermime;</p>
+<p class="i0">That and oysters after <i>would</i> be prime.</p>
+<p class="i0">Fan's a screamer; this top coat would blue it,</p>
+<p class="i0">Yaller at the seams, black ink won't do it.</p>
+<p class="i0">Wonder if old snip would spring another?</p>
+<p class="i0">Boots, too, rayther seedy; beastly bother!</p>
+<p class="i0">Lots o' larks that empty pockets "queer."</p>
+<p class="i0">Can't do much on fifty quid a year.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<center><span class="smcap">February.</span></center>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Febrywary! High old time for sprees!</p>
+<p class="i0">Now's yer chance the gals to please or tease,</p>
+<p class="i0">Dowds to guy and pooty ones to wheedle,</p>
+<p class="i0">And to give all rival chaps the needle.</p>
+<p class="i0">Crab your enemies,&mdash;I've got a many,</p>
+<p class="i0">You can pot 'em proper for a penny.</p>
+<p class="i0">My! Them walentines do 'it 'em 'ot.</p>
+<p class="i0">Fust-rate fun; I always buy a lot.</p>
+<p class="i0">Prigs complain they're spiteful,</p>
+<p class="i4">Lor' wot stuff!</p>
+<p class="i0">I can't ever get 'em strong enough.</p>
+<p class="i0">Safe too; no one twigs your little spree,</p>
+<p class="i0">If you do it on the strict Q. T.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p>
+<p class="i0">If you're spoons, a flowery one's your plan.</p>
+<p class="i0">Mem: I sent a proper one to Fan.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<center><span class="smcap">March.</span></center>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">March! I'm nuts upon a windy day,</p>
+<p class="i0">Gurls do git in such a awful way.</p>
+<p class="i0">Petticoats yer know, and pooty feet;</p>
+<p class="i0">Hair all flying&mdash;tell you it's a treat.</p>
+<p class="i0">Pancake day. Don't like 'em&mdash;flabby, tough,</p>
+<p class="i0">Rayther do a pennorth o' plum-duff.</p>
+<p class="i0">Seediness shows up as Spring advances,</p>
+<p class="i0">Ah! the gurls do lead us pretty dances.</p>
+<p class="i0">Days a-lengthening.</p>
+<p class="i4">Think I spotted Fan</p>
+<p class="i0">Casting sheep's eyes at another man.</p>
+<p class="i0">Quarter-day, too, no more chance of tick.</p>
+<p class="i0">Fancy I shall 'ave to cut my stick.</p>
+<p class="i0">Got the doldrums dreadful, that is clear.</p>
+<p class="i0">Two <i>d.</i> left&mdash;must go and do a beer.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+
+<center><span class="smcap">April.</span></center>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">April! All Fools' Day's a proper time.</p>
+<p class="i0">Cop old gurls and guy old buffers prime.</p>
+<p class="i0">Scissors! don't they goggle and look blue</p>
+<p class="i0">When you land them with a regular "do"?</p>
+<p class="i0">Lor! the world would not be worth a mivvey</p>
+<p class="i0">If there warn't no fools to cheek and chivy.</p>
+<p class="i0">Then comes Easter. Got some coin in 'and,</p>
+<p class="i0">Trot a bonnet out and do the grand.</p>
+<p class="i0">Fan all flounce and flower; fellows mad</p>
+<p class="i0">Heye us henvious; nuts to me, my lad.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p>
+<p class="i0">'Ampstead! 'Ampton! Which is it to be?</p>
+<p class="i0">Fan&mdash;no flat&mdash;prefers the Crystal P.</p>
+<p class="i0">Nobby togs, high jinks, and lots o' lotion,</p>
+<p class="i0">That's the style to go it, I've a notion!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<center><span class="smcap">May.</span></center>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">May! The month o' flowers. Spooney sell!</p>
+<p class="i0">"Rum 'ot with," is wot <i>I</i> likes to smell.</p>
+<p class="i0">Beats yer roses holler. A chice weed</p>
+<p class="i0">Licks all flowers that ever run to seed.</p>
+<p class="i0">Nobby button'oler very well</p>
+<p class="i0">When one wants to do the 'eavy swell;</p>
+<p class="i0">Otherwise don't care not one brass farden,</p>
+<p class="i0">For the best ever blowed in Covent Garden.</p>
+<p class="i0">Fan, though, likes 'em, cost a pretty pile,</p>
+<p class="i0">Rayther stiff, a tanner for a smile.</p>
+<p class="i0">Blued ten bob last time I took 'er out,</p>
+<p class="i0">Left my silver ticker up the spout.</p>
+<p class="i0">Women are sech sharks! If I don't drop 'er.</p>
+<p class="i0">Guess that I shall come a hawful cropper!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<center><span class="smcap">June.</span></center>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">June! A jolly month; sech stunning weather.</p>
+<p class="i0">Fan and I have lots of outs together:</p>
+<p class="i0">Rorty on the river, sech prime 'unts,</p>
+<p class="i0">Foul the racers, run into the punts.</p>
+<p class="i0">Prime to 'ear the anglers rave and cuss,</p>
+<p class="i0">When in quiet "swims" we raise a muss.</p>
+<p class="i0">Snack on someone's lawn upon the quiet.</p>
+<p class="i0">Won't the owner raise a tidy riot</p>
+<p class="i0">When he twigs our scraps and broken bottles?</p>
+<p class="i0">Cheaper this than rustyrongs or hottles,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p>
+<p class="i0">Whitsuntide 'ud be a lot more gay</p>
+<p class="i0">If it warn't so near to quarter-day.</p>
+<p class="i0">Snip turns sour, pulls "county-courting" faces.</p>
+<p class="i0">Must try and land a little on the races.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+
+<center><span class="smcap">July.</span></center>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">'Ot July! Just nicked a handy fiver</p>
+<p class="i0">(Twenty-five to one on old "Screw-driver"!)</p>
+<p class="i0">New rig-out. This mustard colour mixture</p>
+<p class="i0">Suits me nobby. Fan appears a fixture.</p>
+<p class="i0">Gurls like style, you know, and colour ketches 'em,</p>
+<p class="i0">But good show of ochre,&mdash;<i>that's</i> what fetches 'em,</p>
+<p class="i0">Wimbledon! <i>I'm</i> not a Wolunteer.</p>
+<p class="i0">Discipline don't suit this child&mdash;no fear!</p>
+<p class="i0">But we 'ave fine capers at the camp,</p>
+<p class="i0">Proper, but for that confounded scamp:</p>
+<p class="i0">Punched my 'ead because I guyed his shooting.</p>
+<p class="i0">Fan I fancied rather 'ighfaluting;</p>
+<p class="i0">Ogled the big beggar as he propped me.</p>
+<p class="i0">Would 'a licked 'im if <i>she</i> 'adn't stopped me.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<center><span class="smcap">August.</span></center>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">August! Time to think about my outing.</p>
+<p class="i0">No dibs yet, though, so it's no use shouting.</p>
+<p class="i0">Make the best of the Bank 'Oliday.</p>
+<p class="i0">Fan "engaged"! Don't look too bloomin' gay,</p>
+<p class="i0">Drop into the bar to do a beer,</p>
+<p class="i0">Twig her talking to that Volunteer.</p>
+<p class="i0">Sling my 'ook instanter sharp and short,</p>
+<p class="i0">Took Jemimer down to 'Ampton Court.</p>
+<p class="i0">Not 'arf bad, that gurl. Got rather screwed,</p>
+<p class="i0">Little toff complained as I was rude.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p>
+<p class="i0">'It 'im in the wind, he went like death;</p>
+<p class="i0">Weak, consumptive cove and short o' breath.</p>
+<p class="i0">Licked 'im proper, dropped 'im like a shot,&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">Only wish that Fan had seen <i>that</i> lot.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<center><span class="smcap">September.</span></center>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">'Ere's September! 'Oliday at last!</p>
+<p class="i0">Off to Margit&mdash;mean to go it fast.</p>
+<p class="i0">Mustard-coloured togs still fresh as paint,</p>
+<p class="i0">Like to know who's natty, if <i>I</i> ain't.</p>
+<p class="i0">Got three quid; have cried a go with Fan,</p>
+<p class="i0">Game to spend my money like a man.</p>
+<p class="i0">But sticking tight to one gal ain't no fun&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">Here's no end of prime 'uns on the run;</p>
+<p class="i0">Carn't resist me somehow, togs and tile</p>
+<p class="i0">All A 1&mdash;make even swell ones smile.</p>
+<p class="i0">Lor! if I'd the ochre, make no doubt</p>
+<p class="i0">I could cut no end of big pots out.</p>
+<p class="i0">Call me cad? When money's in the game,</p>
+<p class="i0">Cad and swell are pooty much the same.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<center><span class="smcap">October.</span></center>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Now October! Back again to collar,</p>
+<p class="i0">Funds run low, reduced to last 'arf-dollar.</p>
+<p class="i0">Snip on rampage, boots a getting thin,</p>
+<p class="i0">'Ave to try the turf to raise some tin.</p>
+<p class="i0">Evenings getting gloomy; high old games;</p>
+<p class="i0">Music 'alls! Look up the taking names.</p>
+<p class="i0">Proper swells them pros.! If I'd my choice,</p>
+<p class="i0">There's my mark. Just wish I'd got a voice;</p>
+<p class="i0">Cut the old den to-morrow, lots of cham.,</p>
+<p class="i0">Cabs and diamonds,&mdash;ain't that real jam?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+<p class="i0">Got the straight tip for the Siezerwitch,</p>
+<p class="i0">If I <i>honly</i> land it, I'll be rich.</p>
+<p class="i0">Guess next mornin' wouldn't find me sober&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">Allays get the blues about October.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<center><span class="smcap">November.</span></center>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Dull November! Didn't land that lot.</p>
+<p class="i0">Fear my father's son is going to pot.</p>
+<p class="i0">Fan jest passed me, turned away 'er eyes,</p>
+<p class="i0">Guess she ranked me with the <i>other</i> guys,</p>
+<p class="i0">Nobby larks upon the ninth, my joker;</p>
+<p class="i0">But it queers a chap to want the ochre.</p>
+<p class="i0">Nothing like a crowd for regular sprees,</p>
+<p class="i0">Ain't it fine to do a rush, and squeeze?</p>
+<p class="i0">Twig the women fainting! Oh, it's proper!</p>
+<p class="i0">Bonnet buffers when the blooming copper</p>
+<p class="i0">Can't get near yer nohow. Then the fogs!</p>
+<p class="i0">Rare old time for regular jolly dogs.</p>
+<p class="i0">If a chap's a genuine 'ot member,</p>
+<p class="i0">He <i>can</i> keep the game up in November!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<center><span class="smcap">December.</span></center>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Dun December! Dismal, dingy, dirty.</p>
+<p class="i0">Still short commons&mdash;makes a chap feel shirty.</p>
+<p class="i0">Snip rampageous, drops a regular summons.</p>
+<p class="i0">Fan gets married; ah! them gurls is rum 'uns!</p>
+<p class="i0">After all the coin I squandered on 'er!</p>
+<p class="i0">Want it now. A 'eap too bad, 'pon honour,</p>
+<p class="i0">Snow! Ah, that's yer sort, though, and no error.</p>
+<p class="i0">Treat to twig the women scud in terror.</p>
+<p class="i0">Hot 'un in the eye for that old feller;</p>
+<p class="i0">Cold 'un down 'is neck, bust his umbreller.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p>
+<p class="i0">Ha! ha! Then Christmas,&mdash;'ave a jolly feast!</p>
+<p class="i0">The boss will drop a tip,&mdash;hope so, at least.</p>
+<p class="i0">If I don't land some tin, my look-out's queer.</p>
+<p class="i0">Well, let's drink, boys&mdash;"Better luck next year!"</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i095.png">
+<img src="images/i095.png" width="100%" alt="Studies in Animal Life" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Studies in Animal Life.</span></h3>
+<p>The chick-a-leary cochin.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i096.png">
+<img src="images/i096.png" width="100%" alt="man in dispute" /></a>
+<p><i>Swell (who won't be done).</i> "H 'yars my kyard if
+you'd&mdash;ah&mdash;like to summon me."</p>
+<p><i>Cabby (who has pulled up and heard the dispute).</i> "Don't you take it,
+Bill. It's his ticket o' leave!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i097.png">
+<img src="images/i097.png" width="100%" alt="Labour of Love" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">A Labour of Love!</span></h3>
+<p><i>Benevolent Lady (who has with infinite trouble organised a country
+excursion for some over-worked London dressmakers).</i> "Then mind you're
+at the station at nine to-morrow, Eliza. I do hope it won't rain!"</p>
+<p>"<i>Rine</i>, miss! I 'owp not, to be sure! The country's bad enough when
+it's <i>foine</i>, yn't it, miss?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i098.png">
+<img src="images/i098.png" width="100%" alt="ON EPSOM DOWNS" /></a>
+<h3>ON EPSOM DOWNS</h3>
+<p>"Get onto 'is neck, like me, Halfred, an' they'll take us for jockeys!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i099.png">
+<img src="images/i099.png" width="100%" alt="waving fields of macaroni" /></a>
+<p><i>Little Tompkins.</i> "That fellow Brown tried to stuff me
+up with some of his travellers' tales the other day. Talked about his
+trip to Italy, and the waving fields of macaroni, but he didn't catch
+me, you know. They <i>don't</i> wave!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<img src="images/i100.png" width="100%" alt="Guile" />
+<h3><span class="smcap">Guile.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Old Lady.</i> "You know the 'Royal Oak'? Well, you turn to the right, past
+the 'Jolly Gardener,' till you come to the 'Red Lion'&mdash;&mdash;" <i>Artful
+Cabby.</i> "O, don't tell me the 'ouses, mum! Name some o' the churches,
+and then I shall know where I am!!"</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Asks, and gets, an exorbitant fare without a murmur.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>RUS IN URBE</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>A Cockney Rhapsody</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">As I stroll through Piccadilly,</p>
+<p class="i0">Scent of blossoms borne from Scilly</p>
+<p class="i0">Greet me. Jonquil, rose, and lily,</p>
+<p class="i0">Violet and daffydowndilly.</p>
+<p class="i0">Oh, the feeling sweet and thrilly</p>
+<p class="i0">That these blossoms flounced and frilly</p>
+<p class="i0">From soft plains and headlands hilly</p>
+<p class="i0">Bring my breast in Piccadilly!</p>
+<p class="i0">It subdues me, willy nilly,</p>
+<p class="i0">Though such sentiment seems silly,</p>
+<p class="i0">And a bunch, dear, buys your Willy,</p>
+<p class="i0">To dispatch, by post, to Milly,</p>
+<p class="i0">Dwelling, far from Piccadilly,</p>
+<p class="i0">In moist lowlands, rushed and rilly,</p>
+<p class="i0">Blossomy as Penzance or Scilly.</p>
+<p class="i0">Sweets to the sweet! "Poor Silly-Billy!"</p>
+<p class="i0">You may say in accents trilly.</p>
+<p class="i0">When the postman in the stilly</p>
+<p class="i0">Eve, from distant Piccadilly,</p>
+<p class="i0">Bears this box of rose and lily,</p>
+<p class="i0">Violet and daffodilly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+<p class="i0">To the rural maiden, Milly,</p>
+<p class="i0">From her urban lover,</p>
+<p class="i12">Willy.</p>
+<p class="i0">P.S.&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i4">Dry as toke and skilly,</p>
+<p class="i0">Is this arid Piccadilly,</p>
+<p class="i0">Notwithstanding rose and lily,</p>
+<p class="i0">All the beauteous blooms of Scilly,</p>
+<p class="i0">Reft of that flower of flowers&mdash;Milly.</p>
+<p class="i0">So, at least, thinks</p>
+<p class="i12">"Silly Billy."</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">A Cockney's Exclamation upon seeing the celebrated Heidelberg
+Ton.</span>&mdash;<br />"Well, it is (s)ton-ning!"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i101.png">
+<img src="images/i101.png" width="100%" alt="NATURAL HISTORY NOTES" /></a>
+<h3>NATURAL HISTORY NOTES</h3>
+<p><i>Country Cousin.</i> "Lor, Bill, ain't that a horstrich?"</p>
+<p><i>Bill.</i> "<i>Horstrich?</i> 'Corse not. That 'ere's a <i>mongoose</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3>SHAKESPEARE ON BLACKHEATH</h3>
+
+<div class="poem w36"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">I saw young 'Arry with his billycock on,</p>
+<p class="i0">Checked trousers on his thighs, with knob stick armed,</p>
+<p class="i0">Climb from the ground like fat pig up a pole,</p>
+<p class="i0">And flop with such sore toil into his saddle</p>
+<p class="i0">As though a bran-bag dropped down from the clouds,</p>
+<p class="i0">To turn and wind a slow "Jerusalem,"</p>
+<p class="i0">And shock the world with clumsy assmanship.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">'Arry's Latest Conundrum.</span>&mdash;Why is a title-page like charity?&mdash;Becos it
+always begins a tome. (Begins at 'ome, don'tcher see!)</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i102.png">
+<img src="images/i102.png" width="100%" alt="there's a pheasant" /></a>
+<p><i>Cockney Friend.</i> "Good 'evins! there's a pheasant!"</p>
+<p><i>Country Friend.</i> "Well, what of it?"</p>
+<p><i>Cockney.</i> "Why, it ain't the fust of Hoctober?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i103.png">
+<img src="images/i103.png" width="100%" alt="Lady Visitor" /></a>
+<p><i>Lady Visitor (at work-girls' club, giving some advice on
+manners).</i> "And you know ladies never speak to gentlemen without an
+introduction."</p>
+<p><i>'Liza.</i> "We knows yer don't, miss, an' we offen pities yer!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i104.png">
+<img src="images/i104.png" width="100%" alt="AN IDYLL" /></a>
+<h3>AN IDYLL</h3>
+<p><i>Hemma.</i> "Oh, 'Arry, hain't this 'eavenly! You'll promise to give me 'am
+sandwiches always, when we're married, won't yer?"</p>
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "'Corse I will!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i105.png">
+<img src="images/i105.png" width="100%" alt="mean with yer matches" /></a>
+<p><i>First Workman.</i> "Why don't yer buy yer <i>own</i> matches,
+'stead of always cadgin' mine?"</p>
+<p><i>Second Workman.</i> "You're uncommon mean with yer matches. I'll just take
+a few"&mdash;(<i>helps himself to two-thirds</i>)&mdash;"and be hinderpendent of yer!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i106.png">
+<img src="images/i106.png" width="100%" alt="Two errand boys" /></a>
+<h3>ERRAND BOYS</h3>
+<p><i>First Boy.</i> "Where are yer goin' to, Bill?"</p>
+<p><i>Second Boy.</i> "I've got to go right over 'Ammersmith Bridge to Barnes,
+then I'se got to go to Putney and back by Fulham Road, then to 'Igh
+Street, Kensington.</p>
+<p><i>First Boy.</i> "Why, I've got to go to 'Igh Street. You go on. I'm in a
+bit of a hurry, but <i>I'll wait for yer</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Most Musical, Most Melancholy.</span>&mdash;A Cockney gentleman who had been hearing
+a concert of old music, where every piece that was performed was in the
+programme termed an "op.," observed, as he went out, "Well, after all
+these 'ops, I vote we have some malt."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Cockneyism in the Country</span>.&mdash;<i>1st Cockney.</i> I say, what sort of a 'ouse
+will do for a fowl-'ouse?</p>
+
+<p><i>2nd Cockney.</i> Lor' bless yer, <i>hen</i>-ny 'ouse.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Conundrum for Cockneys.</span>&mdash;Which has the greater amount of animal heat,
+the beaver or the otter? Why, of course, the <i>otter</i> of the two.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3>SONG OF THE COCKNEY SPORTSMAN</h3>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">How happy could I be in heather,</p>
+<p class="i2">At the grouse gaily blazing away!</p>
+<p class="i0">But then, somehow, I can't touch a feather,</p>
+<p class="i2">So 'tis better at Brighton to stay.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Pro Bono.</span>&mdash;There is one first-rate joint that comes to table which is
+the Cockney's prime aversion&mdash;the h-bone.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i107.png">
+<img src="images/i107.png" width="100%" alt="A Model Model" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">A Model Model.</span></h3>
+<p>(<i>The artist is rather shy, and has left his model to do the honours of
+his studio</i>). "From whom did Mr. M'Gilp paint that head?"</p>
+<p>"From yours obediently, madam. I sit for the 'eads of all 'is 'oly men."</p>
+<p>"He must find you a very useful person."</p>
+<p>"Yes, madam. I order his frames, stretch his canvases, wash his brushes,
+set his palette, and mix his colours. All <i>he's</i> got to do is just to
+<i>shove 'em on</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i108.png">
+<img src="images/i108.png" width="100%" alt="" /></a>
+<p><i>Tripper.</i> "'Ere! 'Arf a mo'! Where's the change out o'
+that bob I gave yer?"</p>
+<p><i>Bystander.</i> "Don't worry about it, cocky; ain't you got the bloomin'
+'oss as security!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i109.png">
+<img src="images/i109.png" width="100%" alt="Two passing carriages" /></a>
+<p><i>Holiday Driver (returning from a pic-nic).</i> "Excuse me,
+sir, but can you see anything wrong with the 'arness of this 'ere
+'orse?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Sportsmen at Sea.</span></h3>
+
+<p><i>(Tom exhibiting a tern which he has shot).</i> I say, 'Arry, wot bird 's
+this 'ere?</p>
+
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> A auk, I should say.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tom.</i> What yer calls a sparrerawk?</p>
+
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> No. Hay, u, k, auk, without the sparrer.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3>A COCKNEY'S EPITAPH</h3>
+
+<div class="poem w32"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Think!</span> "From the cradle to the grave!" my brother,</p>
+<p class="i0">A nurse takes you from one, an 'earse to t'other.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">A Vulgar Error.</span>&mdash;Misplacing the haspirate.</center>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">A Chevalieresque Conundrum.</span>&mdash;<i>Coster Bill (to 'Arriet).</i> I si! When is
+your young man like a fish out of water?</p>
+
+<p><i>'Arriet.</i> Oh, g'long! Give't up.</p>
+
+<p><i>Coster Bill.</i> Why, when 'es a <i>witin'</i> round the corner.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[Short encounter, and exeunt severally.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i110.png">
+<img src="images/i110.png" width="100%" alt="A Capital Answer" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">A Capital Answer.</span></h3>
+<p><i>"Self-made" Man (examining school, of which he is a manager).</i> "Now,
+boy, what's the capital of 'Olland?"</p>
+<p><i>Boy.</i> "An 'H,' sir."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3>DISCOVERED IN DRURY LANE</h3>
+
+<center>(<i>Near the new Baker Street Lodging House established by the County
+Council.</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">I 'old it true wote'er befall,</p>
+<p class="i2">I feel it when things go most cross,</p>
+<p class="i2">Better do a fi'penny doss,</p>
+<p class="i0">Than never do a doss at all!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">University Sympathy.</span></h3>
+
+<p><i>First Errand Boy (after the University Boat Race).</i> Wot 'ave yer got a
+light blue ribbon in yer button 'ole for, Tommy?</p>
+
+<p><i>Second E. B. (promptly).</i> 'Cos our 'ouse allus sells Cambridge
+sausages!</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">A Matter of Taste.</span></h3>
+
+<p><i>Vulgar Parvenu (who is watching the interior decorations of his
+house).</i> "Don't you think that tapestry 'eats the rooms?"</p>
+
+<p><i>Artistic Decorator.</i> "Very possibly, sir; you see, it's Goblin
+(<i>Gobelin</i>)."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i111.png">
+<img src="images/i111.png" width="100%" alt="The Irrepressible" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">The Irrepressible.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Street Boy (to cabby, in a block).</i> "Look 'ere, are you a goin' on wi'
+this four wheeler?&mdash;'r else me an' my friend 'll get down an' walk!"</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Retires hastily.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Audacious 'Arryism.</span>&mdash;Our friend 'Arry objects to the title of a recently
+published novel, "Airy Fairy Lilian." He says that he can't imagine a
+fairy all over 'air, though he might an 'obgoblin.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3>THE BAGMAN'S BAG</h3>
+
+<div class="poem w26"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Hark how the cockney sportsman drops</p>
+<p class="i2">His aitches o'er the glades and glens,</p>
+<p class="i0">But, at hen pheasents though he pops,</p>
+<p class="i2">Your 'Arry never drops his n's.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">A Pair of "Nippers."</span>&mdash;A coster's twins.</center>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Cockney Classics.</span></h3>
+
+<p>"Jack," said Robins, "which varsity would you rayther go to, Hoxford or
+'Idleberg?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hoxford, Jemmy, to be sure, you muff," answered Robbins. "'Cos vy, I
+prefers hindustry to hidleness."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/i112.png">
+<img src="images/i112.png" width="100%" alt="Ow much an hour" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">A Bank Holiday Reminiscence.</span></h3>
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "Ow much an hour, guv'nor?"</p>
+<p><i>Horsekeeper.</i> "Eighteenpence."</p>
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "All right. I'll have a ride."</p>
+<p><i>Horsekeeper.</i> "Well, you've got to leave 'arf a crown on the 'orse?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i113.png">
+<img src="images/i113.png" width="100%" alt="Lady in food store" /></a>
+<h3>POOR LETTER "H"</h3>
+<p>"Have you got any <i>whole</i> strawberry jam?"</p>
+<p>"No, miss. All ours is quite new!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i114.png">
+<img src="images/i114.png" width="100%" alt="SONGS OF THE SUMMER" /></a>
+<h3>SONGS OF THE SUMMER</h3>
+<p>"The weather seems to be improving, Nupkins!"</p>
+<p>"Yes, miss; the nightingale and the cuckoo is a-'ollerin', every
+night!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3>'ARRY ON 'ORSEBACK</h3>
+
+<div class="poem w32"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Our 'Arry goes 'unting and sings with a will,</p>
+<p class="i0">"The 'orn of the 'unter is 'eard on the 'ill";</p>
+<p class="i0">And oft, when a saddle looks terribly bare,</p>
+<p class="i0">The 'eels of our 'Arry are seen in the air!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">Cockney Epitaph for a Cook.</span>&mdash;"Peace to his hashes."</center>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p>"A Horse," observed a Scotch vet., "may have a very good appetite, and
+yet be unable to eat a bit."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," said 'Arry, "there's the difference between a 'oss and a ostridge,
+which could eat bit, snaffle, curb and all."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Le Sport.</span></h3>
+
+<p>A Cockney sportsman, wishing to introduce hare-hunting into France, is
+seriously meditating a work on the subject, to be entitled,
+<i>Arrière-pensées</i>; <i>or, Thoughts on Keeping 'Ariers</i>. His <i>nom de plume</i>
+will be <i>Le petit Jean du</i> Jockey Club.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i115.png"></a>
+<img src="images/i115.png" width="100%" alt="lady looking at a bee" />
+<p><i>'Arriet (as a bee alights on her hand).</i> "My word,
+'Arry, wot a pretty fly!"</p>
+<p>(<i>Sting.</i>)</p>
+<p>"Crikey! ain't 'is feet 'ot!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i116.png">
+<img src="images/i116.png" width="100%" alt="two boys looking at statue" /></a>
+<p>"'Ullo, Jim, look 'ere! 'Ere's a noo stachoo! Lend us yer knife!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i117.png">
+<img src="images/i117.png" width="100%" alt="I want to buy a dog" /></a>
+<p><i>Jinks.</i> "I want to buy a dog. I don't know what they
+call the breed, but it is something the shape of a greyhound, with a
+short curly tail and rough hair. Do you keep dogs like that?"</p>
+<p><i>Fancier.</i> "No. I drowns 'em!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Cockney Philosophy.</span></h3>
+
+<p>The Socratic mode of argument is the only true mode of chopping logic,
+because it proceeds altogether on the principle of axing questions.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3>'<span class="smcap">Arry puts 'em right.</span></h3>
+
+<p>The <i>Daily Chronicle</i>&mdash;recently suggested that the plural of rhinoceros
+is a disputed point. 'Arry writes: "What O, <i>Mr. P.</i>, 'disputed'?&mdash;not a
+bit. Any kiddy as 'as 'ad 'arf an eddication knows what the plural of
+''oss' is, don't he? No matter as to its bein' spelt ''os' or ''oss.'
+Plural, anyway ''osses.' 'Bus-'os'&mdash;'Bus-'osses.'
+'Rhinocer-os'&mdash;'Rhinocer-osses.' That's as plain as an 'aystack, ain't
+it?</p>
+
+<p class="regards">"Yours,</p>
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">'Arry.</span>"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<br /><center><span class="smcap">Definition for a Diner-out.</span>&mdash;An unlicensed wittler, quoth our worthy
+'ost.&mdash;<span class="smcap">'Arry</span>.</center>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i118.png">
+<img src="images/i118.png" width="100%" alt="FERVOUR IN THE FOG" /></a>
+<h3>FERVOUR IN THE FOG</h3>
+<p><i>Unpromising Individual (suddenly&mdash;his voice vibrating with passion).</i></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"She's moy unney;</p>
+<p class="i0">Oim 'er joy!"</p>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" exclaimed, enthusiastically, a hairdresser's assistant who had
+been out for a holiday. "'Ind 'Ead, in Surrey! That's the place for
+hair!"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The Real London Pride.</span>&mdash;We know an inveterate Cockney who declares that
+London milk beats the country milk, and beats it "<i>by many chalks</i>."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<center><span class="smcap">Good Paper for Deaf Cockneys.</span>&mdash;<i>The 'Earer.</i></center>
+<br />
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The Musical Coster Craze.</span>&mdash;<i>Customer.</i> Have you a copy of Costa's <i>Eli</i>?</p>
+
+<p><i>Shopman.</i> No, sir; we have none of Chevalier's songs.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i119.png">
+<img src="images/i119.png" width="100%" alt="Looking in mirror" /></a>
+<br />
+<p>"I say, 'Arry, don't we look frights!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i120.png">
+<img src="images/i120.png" width="100%" alt="men looking in shop" /></a>
+<p>"I say, Bill, oo was this 'ere Nelson as everybody wos a
+talkin' about?" "Why, 'e was the chap as turned the French out of
+Trafalgar Square!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i121.png">
+<img src="images/i121.png" width="100%" alt="can you lend me twopence" /></a>
+<p>"Bill, can you lend me twopence?"</p>
+<p>"Wot a silly question to arst! Why, if I 'ad twopence, wot 'ud I be
+doin' standin' outside a public 'ouse?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>A SONG OF SPRING</h2>
+
+<center><i>By a Cockney Poet.</i></center>
+
+<div class="poem w32"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">All hail, thou jocund time of year,</p>
+<p class="i0">To Cockneys and cock-robins dear!</p>
+<p class="i0">All hail, thou flowery, showery season,</p>
+<p class="i0">When throstles, mating, perch the trees on:</p>
+<p class="i0">When sparrows on the house-tops sit,</p>
+<p class="i0">And court their loves with cheery twit:</p>
+<p class="i0">While opera songsters tune their throats,</p>
+<p class="i0">Exchanging for our gold their notes!</p>
+<p class="i0">Now Nature her new dress receives,</p>
+<p class="i0">And dinner-tables spread their leaves;</p>
+<p class="i0">Asparagus again one sees,</p>
+<p class="i0">And early ducklings, served with peas;</p>
+<p class="i0">Again the crisp whitebait we crunch,</p>
+<p class="i0">And chops of lambkin blithely munch;</p>
+<p class="i0">Salmon again our shops afford,</p>
+<p class="i0">And plovers' eggs adorn the board;</p>
+<p class="i0">While for one day at least our sons</p>
+<p class="i0">May stuff themselves with hot cross buns!</p>
+<p class="i2">See now the swells begin to show</p>
+<p class="i0">Their horsemanship in Rotten Row:</p>
+<p class="i0">See now the Drive is thronged once more,</p>
+<p class="i0">And idlers lounge there as of yore:</p>
+<p class="i0">See now fair April fills Mayfair,</p>
+<p class="i0">And gives new life to Grosvenor Square.</p>
+<p class="i0">See now what crowds flock to the Zoo,</p>
+<p class="i0">Where Master Hippo is on view</p>
+<p class="i0">See daffodils, and daisies pied</p>
+<p class="i0">In bloom, and buttercups beside:</p>
+<p class="i0">See now the thorn, and e'en the rose</p>
+<p class="i0">Signs of returning Spring disclose:</p>
+<p class="i0">See now the lilac large in bud;</p>
+<p class="i0">While costermongers, splashed with mud,</p>
+<p class="i0">The product of the passing showers,</p>
+<p class="i0">Cry, "Here's yer all a blowing flowers!"</p>
+<p class="i0">Or wake the echoes of the groves<a name="FNanchor_A_A" id="FNanchor_A_A"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_A" class="fnanchor"><sup>[A]</sup></a></p>
+<p class="i0">With "Hornaments for yer fire-stoves!"</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_A" id="Footnote_A_A"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_A"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Westbourne Grove, Lisson Grove, Camden Grove, &amp;c.</p></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i122.png">
+<img src="images/i122.png" width="100%" alt="'Appy 'Arry" /></a>
+<h3><i>'Appy 'Arry</i>&mdash;</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"With my new panama-a-ar</p>
+<p class="i0">And tupp'ny ciga-a-ar."</p>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i123.png">
+<img src="images/i123.png" width="100%" alt="Teacher and student" /></a>
+<h3>ENCOURAGING, VERY!</h3>
+<p><i>Cockney Art-Teacher (newly arrived and nervous&mdash;after a long silence).</i>
+"If you <i>should</i> see a chance o' drorin' any thing correctly&mdash;<span class="smcap">DO SO</span>!!"</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Collapse of expectant student.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i124.png">
+<img src="images/i124.png" width="100%" alt="ordering a drink" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Standing no Nonsense.</span></h3>
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "Phew!"&mdash;(<i>the weather was warm, and they had walked over from
+'Ammersmith</i>)&mdash;"bring us a bottle o'champagne, waiter."</p>
+<p><i>Waiter.</i> "Yessir&mdash;dry, sir?"</p>
+<p><i>'Arry (aughtily, to put a stop to this familiarity at once).</i> "Never
+you mind whether we're dry or whether we ain't!&mdash;bring the wine!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i125.png">
+<img src="images/i125.png" width="100%" alt="Sheredity" /></a>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Sheredity.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Lady.</i> "You don't mean to tell me that this little girl is fit to wait
+at table!"</p>
+<p><i>Mother (proudly).</i> "Well 'm, she <i>ought</i> to be, seein' as 'ow 'er
+father 'as been a <i>plate layer</i> for five-and-twenty year!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i126.png">
+<img src="images/i126.png" width="100%" alt="lady checking programme" /></a>
+<p><i>Lady (referring to programme, to friend).</i> "'Schumann,
+op. 2.' What's the meaning of 'op. 2'?"</p>
+<p><i>'Arry (who thinks he is being addressed, and always ready to oblige
+with information).</i> "Oh, op. 2. Second dance; second 'op, yer know. May
+I 'ave the pleasure?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i127.png">
+<img src="images/i127.png" width="100%" alt="Sale of Intoxicants" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">The Sale of Intoxicants to Children Bill.</span></h3>
+<p>"It's another hinjustice to hus pore wimmen, it is! They won't let us
+send the kids for it now, an' if my heldest boy goes for it 'e 'as 'arf
+of it 'isself, 'an' if my old man goes 'e never comes back! so the hend
+of it is, I 'ave to go for it myself!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i128.png">
+<img src="images/i128.png" width="100%" alt="Discouraging" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">Discouraging.</span></h3>
+<p><i>Nervous Philanthropist (on a slumming excursion).</i> "Can you tell me if
+this is Little Erebus Street, my man?"</p>
+<p><i>Suspicious-looking Party.</i> "Yus."</p>
+<p><i>Nervous P.</i> "Er&mdash;rather a rough sort of thoroughfare, isn't it?"</p>
+<p><i>Suspicious-looking P.</i> "Yus; it is a bit thick. The further yer gows
+daown, the thicker it gits. I lives in the last 'aouse."</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Exit philanthropist hurriedly in the opposite direction.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i129.png">
+<img src="images/i129.png" width="100%" alt="The Festive Season" /></a>
+<h3><span class="smcap">The Festive Season.</span></h3>
+<p><i>First Burglar.</i> "'Ere's a go, mate! This 'ere bit o' turkey, knuckile
+hend of an 'am, arf a sossidge, and the 'olly off the plum-puddin'!
+Might as well 'ave looked in on a bloomin' vegetarian!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i130.png">
+<img src="images/i130.png" width="100%" alt="Temperance Orator" /></a>
+<p><i>Temperance Orator.</i> "Ho, pause, my dear friends, pause!"
+<i>A Voice.</i> "Ye're right, ole man, <i>they are</i>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Cockney Hobservation.</span></h3>
+<p>Cockneys are not the only people who drop or exasperate the "h's." It is
+done by common people in the provinces, and you may laugh at them for
+it. The deduction therefore is, that a peasant, with an "h," is fair
+game.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">New Cockney Saint.</span>&mdash;Mrs. Malaprop declares that if she lives to be a
+hundred&mdash;and all her family detain a venerated age&mdash;she will certainly
+have a Saint 'Enery.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Riddle by 'Arry.</span>&mdash;"Look 'ere, if you're speakin' of a young unmarried
+lady bein' rather 'uffy, what well-known river would you name?&mdash;Why,
+'<i>Miss is 'ippy</i>,' o' course."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i131.png">
+<img src="images/i131.png" width="100%" alt="EASTER MONDAY" /></a>
+<h3>EASTER MONDAY</h3>
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "Do you pass any pubs on the way to Broadstairs, cabby?"</p>
+<p><i>Cabby.</i> "Yes. Lots."</p>
+<p><i>'Arry.</i> "Well, <i>don't!</i>"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/i132.png">
+<img src="images/i132.png" width="100%" alt="Dropped aitch" /></a>
+<p>"I beg your pardon, ma'am, but I think you dropped this?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<h3>THE END</h3>
+
+<p>BRADBURY, AGNEW, &amp; CO. LD., PRINTERS, LONDON AND TONBRIDGE</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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@@ -0,0 +1,3427 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: J. A. Hammerton
+
+Illustrator: Various
+
+Release Date: January 15, 2012 [EBook #38586]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Neville Allen, David Edwards and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+    MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR
+
+    Edited by J. A. HAMMERTON
+
+    Designed to provide in a series of volumes, each complete in
+    itself, the cream of our national humour, contributed by the
+    masters of comic draughtsmanship and the leading wits of the age to
+    "Punch," from its beginning in 1841 to the present day.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ONE OF NATURE'S GALLANTS. _Loafer (to fair occupant on
+her way to Court)._ "Ullo, Ethel! All alone?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR
+
+IN PICTURE AND STORY
+
+_WITH 133 ILLUSTRATIONS_
+
+  BY
+
+  PHIL MAY, CHARLES KEENE,
+  L. RAVEN-HILL, TOM BROWNE,
+  C. SHEPPERSON, E. T. REED,
+  BERNARD PARTRIDGE, J. A.
+  SHEPHERD, G. D. ARMOUR,
+  GEORGE DU MAURIER, AND
+  OTHERS
+
+[Illustration]
+
+PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH THE PROPRIETORS OF "PUNCH"
+
+THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR
+
+_Twenty-five volumes, crown 8vo, 192 pages, fully illustrated_
+
+  LIFE IN LONDON
+  COUNTRY LIFE
+  IN THE HIGHLANDS
+  SCOTTISH HUMOUR
+  IRISH HUMOUR
+  COCKNEY HUMOUR
+  IN SOCIETY
+  AFTER DINNER STORIES
+  IN BOHEMIA
+  AT THE PLAY
+  MR. PUNCH AT HOME
+  ON THE CONTINONG
+  RAILWAY BOOK
+  AT THE SEASIDE
+  MR. PUNCH AFLOAT
+  IN THE HUNTING FIELD
+  MR. PUNCH ON TOUR
+  WITH ROD AND GUN
+  MR. PUNCH AWHEEL
+  BOOK OF SPORTS
+  GOLF STORIES
+  IN WIG AND GOWN
+  ON THE WARPATH
+  BOOK OF LOVE
+  WITH THE CHILDREN
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration]
+
+EDITOR'S NOTE
+
+Cockney humour smacks, of course, of the town and makes up in smartness
+and shrewdness what it lacks in mellowness. The Cockney is as a rule a
+conscious humorist; you laugh _with_ him very often, whereas you nearly
+always laugh _at_ the rustic humorist.
+
+George Du Maurier concerned himself a good deal with Cockney character,
+but he was not in sympathy with the Cockney; generally he had an obvious
+contempt for him, and most of his jokes turn on the dropped H, the
+mispronounced word, and educational deficiencies. He portrays some of
+the Cockney's superficial characteristics; he despises him too much to
+be able to get at the heart of him and reveal his character.
+
+Take Phil May's pictures and jokes, and the difference is at once
+apparent. He was fully alive to the Cockney's deficiencies of manner and
+culture; now and then he quite genially and without the least touch of
+scorn or self-complacency makes fun of them; but he really gives you the
+Cockney character. Take, for instance, such a picture as his "Politics
+and Gallantry," his "I say, 'Arry, don't we look frights!" his "Informal
+Introduction"--(the self-consciousness of the girl's expression, and the
+blatant pride of the man's)--here, and in almost any of his drawings you
+turn to, you have the absolutely natural Cockney; his types are full of
+character and so true and free from condescension that not only are we
+moved irresistibly to laugh at them, but the Cockney himself would be
+the first to recognise their truth and to laugh joyously at them too. We
+may say pretty much the same of Charles Keene, of Mr. Raven-Hill, of Mr.
+Bernard Partridge, and of others of the "Punch" artists represented
+here, who illustrate the essential Cockney character, and do not go on
+the easy assumption that dropped H's and mispronounced words and
+aggressive vulgarity are the beginning and the end of it.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration]
+
+MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR
+
+"All's swell that ends swell," as 'Arry remarked when he purchased a
+pair of "misfits."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY AND 'ARRIET'S FAVOURITE ITALIAN POET.--'Ariosto.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MOTHER WIT.--_First Coster._ I say, Bill, wot's the meanin' o' Congress?
+
+_Second Coster._ A shee heel. Female of conger.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A LONDONER'S RURAL REFLECTION.--The Hayfield is better than the
+Haymarket.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY'S LAMENT
+
+"A public meeting was held at Hampstead last night to protest against
+the tampering with the Heath by tube railway promoters."--_Daily Paper._
+
+  Wot! Toobs on 'appy 'Amstid?
+    A stytion at _Jack Strors_?
+  I 'old the sime a bloomin' shim
+    An' clean agin the lors,
+      Leastwyes it oughter be--
+      If lors wos mide by me
+      No toobs yer wouldn't see
+        On 'appy 'Amstid.
+
+  Wy, wheer are we ter go, Liz,
+    Ter git a breath of air?
+  Yer'll set yer teeth agin the 'eath
+    When theer's a toob up there.
+      A pinky-yaller stytion
+      By wye o' deckyrytion--
+      I calls it desecrytion,
+        'Appy 'Amstid.
+
+  Oh! sive us 'appy 'Amstid!
+    It's Parrydise, you bet!
+  Theer ain't no smoke ter 'arm a bloke.
+    Nor yet no smuts as yet.
+      An' so I 'opes they'll tell
+      This bloomin' Yanky swell
+      Ter send 'is toobs ter--well,
+        Not 'appy 'Amstid!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE WILD WILD EAST
+
+_First Coster._ "Say, Bill, 'ow d'yer like my new kickseys? Good fit,
+eh?"
+
+_Second Coster._ "Fit! They ain't no _fit_. They're a _haper-plictick
+stroke_!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NOTE BY A COCKNEY NATURALIST
+
+The common blackbeetles (_Scarabaeus niger_) which so abundantly infest
+the culinary regions of Cockaigne are alleged to be agreeable, although
+profuse, in flavour, provided they be delicately larded before crimping,
+and then fricasseed or simply fried. Care should specially be taken not
+to injure their antennae, which, when crisp with egg and breadcrumbs,
+exquisitely tickle the palate of the gourmet, and provoke him to the
+liveliest of gastronomic feats. There lurks in vulgar minds a savage
+prejudice against these interesting insects, by reason, very likely, of
+the popular impression that at times they have been manufactured into
+Soy. But this may be assumed to be mere idle superstition, and Soyer,
+the great _chef_, wisely set his face against it, remarking, as he did
+so, "_Honi Soy qui mal y pense._"
+
+Among the warblers which abound in the vicinity of the metropolis, one
+of the most interesting is the little mudlark (_Alauda Greenwichiensis_)
+whose plaintive cry may nightly be heard upon the shore of the river,
+where these little creatures congregate in flocks, and pick up any grub
+which they may chance to meet with.
+
+Doubts have been entertained by sundry Cockney naturalists whether the
+pyramids of oyster shells, which in the early part of August used to be
+noticed in the streets, should be regarded as a proof of the migratory
+habits of the mollusc. That the oyster is a sluggard and objects to
+leave his bed seems pretty generally admitted; but that he is endowed
+with the power of locomotion has, fortunately for science, been placed
+beyond a doubt. Whether oysters shed their shells when they are crossed
+in love is a point on which the naturalist is still somewhat in the
+dark.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SELF-EVIDENT.--It must have been a cockney who said that St. Bees came
+from St. 'Ives.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A DEAD LETTER.--Too often H.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "I say, Bill, 'ere comes two champion doners! Let's kid
+'em 'at we're hofficers!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: EPSOM UP TO DATE.
+
+_'Arry._ "Ain't ye comin' to see the 'orse run for yer money?"
+
+_Cholley._ "Not me! No bloomin' fear! I'm goin' to see this cove don't
+run _with_ my money!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ROYAL ALBERT HALL
+
+  TO DAY AT 3 PATTI
+
+"I 'ear this 'ere Patti ain't _'arf_ bad!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "Would you gentlemen like to look at the old church?"
+
+"Ho, yus. We're _nuts_ on old churches!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Quoth an eminent literary man, in the hearing of 'Arry, "All George
+Meredith's poetry might be republished under one title as 'Our
+Georgics.'"
+
+"Oo's 'Icks'?" asked 'Arry.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"THE TEACHING OF ERSE IN IRELAND."--"Well," says 'Arry, "it sounds
+uncommon funereal. O' course I knew an erse and plumes and coal black
+'osses is what they call a 'moral lesson.' But why make such a fuss
+about it in Ireland?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AN AWKWARD NAME.--'Arry, on a marine excursion, hearing mention made of
+the two sea-birds the great auk and the little auk, inquired if the
+little auk was a sparrow-'awk.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"He is the greatest liar on (H)earth," as the Cockney said of the
+lap-dog he often saw lying before the fire.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE VERNACULAR.
+
+"Yer know that young Germin feller as come ter sty in our 'ouse six
+months agow? Well, w'en fust 'e come, I give yer my word'e didn' know
+nothink but 'is own lengwidge; but we bin learnin' 'im English, an' now
+e' can speak it puffick--jes' the sime as wot you an' me can."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+DINNER FOR THE H-LESS. GOOD EDUCATIONAL COURSE FOR AN UNEDUCATED
+COCKNEY.--An _aitch_-bone.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEYS AT ALDERSHOT.--_First Cockney._ "'Ere, 'Arry, where's the
+colonel?"
+
+_Second Cockney._ "The _colonel_, bless yer, 'e's in _an 'ut_."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HOUSEHOLD NOTE.--_(By a Cockney). What to do with cold mutton. H_eat
+it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEY CONUNDRUM.--Wot lake in Hengland's got the glassiest buzzum?
+
+Windermere.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FOR CIVES ROMANI.--The way to 'Ampton races?--The 'Appy 'Un (Appian) of
+course.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Bus Conductor._ "Emmersmith! Emmersmith! 'Ere ye are
+Emmersmith!"
+
+_Liza Ann._ "Oo er yer callin' Emmer Smith? Sorcy 'ound!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: POOR LETTER "A."
+
+"Do you sell type?"--"Type, sir? No, sir. This is an ironmonger's.
+You'll find type at the linendryper's over the w'y!"
+
+"I don't mean _tape_, man! _Type_, for _printing_!"
+
+"Oh, _toype_ yer mean! I beg yer pardon, sir!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: MYOPIA
+
+_Little Binks (to unsteady party who had lurched heavily against him)._
+"I beg your pardon, I'm sure, but I'm very short-sighted----"
+
+_Dissipated Stranger._ "Do' mensh't, shir--I've met goo' many shor'
+sight peopl'sh morn', bu' you're firsh gen'l'm'sh made 'shli'sht
+'pology!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR 'ARRY AGAIN!
+
+  'Arry _is at a hotel where the boarding system prevails, and sees the
+  following notice posted on the walls--"Breakfast, 9 a.m."_
+
+_'Arry (to Waiter)._ "Breakfast, and some 'am."
+
+_Waiter._ "We've no 'am."
+
+_'Arry._ "No 'am! _(Pointing to notice.)_ What's that?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_Says one 'Arry to another 'Arry._ "I say, old man, the papers say they
+'ope 1882 will be the openin' of a new era. What's that?"
+
+_Second 'Arry._ "Openin' of a new 'earer? Why, a telephone, of course,
+you juggins!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A SONG FOR COCKNEY SPORTSMEN
+
+  The hart's in the Highlands,
+    Of that there's no fear,
+  And 'tis there you may buy lands
+    For stalking the deer:
+  But the hills are no trifle,
+    And they're windy and cold,
+  So your wish you'd best stifle,
+    Or buy, and be--sold.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: GOOD NEWS
+
+_'Arry._ "T'aint no good miking a fuss about it, yer know, guv'nor! Me
+and my pals must 'ave our 'd'y out'!"
+
+_Foreign Fellow-traveller._ "Aha! Die out! You go to die out? Mon Dieu!
+I am vairy glad to 'ear it. It is time!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: FORCE OF HABIT; OR, CITY SUSPICIONS
+
+_'Arry (who is foraging for his camping party)._ "Look here, my good
+woman, are these cabbages fresh?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Little Dobbs._ "Hullo! what's that? Looks like a mowing
+machine."
+
+_Hairdresser (who does not appreciate "chaff")._ "No, sir, 'tain't a
+mowin' machine. It's meant to give gentlemen fresh _h_air."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: BITING SARCASM
+
+_Gentleman with the Broom (who has inadvertently splashed the artist's
+favourite shipwreck)._ "Ow yus! I suppose yer think ye're the president
+o' the Roy'l Acadermy! A settin' there in the lap er luxury!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: FOREIGN COMPETITION
+
+_British Habitual Criminal._ "Well, if these 'ere furrin aliens is
+a-goin' ter take the bread out of a honest man's mouth--blimey if I
+don't turn copper!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VERY APPROPRIATE.--Says 'Arry, "Regular good place for a medical man to
+live in is 'Ill Street, Berkeley Square. But why don't he cure it and
+make it Quite Well Street?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COMMENT BY A COCKNEY
+
+  Bad-Gastein! Sounds more fit than nice, and yet
+    They say most healing waters there are had.
+  Strange, though, that people fancy good to get
+    By going to the Bad!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'Arriet read from a daily paper, "Navigation in the Ouse." "I s'pose,"
+said 'Arry, "as the members are goin' to 'ave a 'ouse-boat this season.
+Which 'ouse? Hupper or lower? Whichever's to steer? The Speaker or Lord
+'Igh Chancellor?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TWO DISTINCT CLASSES.--The aristocracy and the '_Arry_-stocracy.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: WITHERING.
+
+_'Arry._ "I s'y--does one tip the witers 'ere?"
+
+_Alphonse._ "Not onless you are reecher zan ze vaiter, sare!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE BLESSED HERITAGE
+
+["Poverty is a blessed heritage."--_Mr. Carnegie._]
+
+  'Ere, Lizer, wheer's yer gratitood? 'E ses, ses Mr. C.,
+  As it's a blessed 'eritage, is poverty, ses 'e.
+  Then think 'ow thankful an' 'ow blest we oughter feel, us two,
+  But yet yer that contrairy that I'm blest, Liz, if yer do.
+
+  Wot? 'Ungry? Wot is 'unger? Don't it vary the monotony
+  An' Wooster sorce yer vittles, that's supposin' as yer've got any?
+  Then think of them pore millionaires wot misses the delight
+  Of 'avin' 'ad no breakfast on a roarin' happytite.
+
+  Then money! I Think, Elizer, of them cruel stocks and shares
+  Wot makes their lives a torter to them martyred millionaires
+  Oh, ain't we much more appy when the sticks is up the spout
+  An' the kids is wantin' dinner and 'as got ter go without?
+
+  And don't it make yer 'eart bleed, too, to think of all the care
+  Of mansions in the country and an 'ouse in Grosvenor Square?
+  Ah, what would them pore fellers give if honly they could come
+  An' live with all their fam'ly in our garret hup the slum?
+
+  Wot, Liz? Yer'd like ter see 'em come? 'Ere, none o' that theer charf!
+  Yer'd sell yer bloomin' birthright for a pot of 'arf-an-'arf?
+  Lor, Liz! Ter think as you should be in sich a thankless mood!
+  Yer've got a "blessed 'eritage," an' 'ere's yer gratitood!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY EXAMINED.--_Q._ "What is meant by 'Higher Education'"?
+
+_'Arry._ "Getting a tutor at so much a week. That's the way I should
+'ire education--if I wanted it."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+WHY HE IS SUCH A DULL BOY.
+
+"'Arry," said an eminent comic singer to his friend, confidentially at
+the Oxford, "I'm exclusively engaged at the music 'alls; mayn't perform
+in a theatre."
+
+"Then," replied 'Arry, knowingly, "it's all work and no play with you."
+
+The conclusion was so evident that, had it not been for a good deal of
+soothing syrup at 'Arry's expense, there might have been a serious
+breach of the peace.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Toff._ "I say, my boy, would you like to drive me to
+Piccadilly?"
+
+_Boy._ "I shouldn't mind, old sport, only I don't fink the 'arness would
+fit yer!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: IDDEN AND POOR LETTER H
+
+_Tout Contractor (who has been paid a shilling per man, and sees his way
+to a little extra profit)._ "Now look 'ere, you two H's! The public
+don't want yer--nor _I_ don't, nor nobody don't; so jist drop them
+boards, and then 'ook it!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OBSERVATIONS BY A COCKNEY NATURALIST
+
+A nightingale has been heard singing in Kensington Gardens (_vide
+Times_, April 19). A salmon has been seen swimming close to London
+Bridge. A trout has been observed (reposing on a marble slab) near to
+Charing Cross. Sticklebacks have been captured in the waters of the
+Serpentine. Plovers eggs have been discovered in the middle of Covent
+Garden: I myself have found there as many as two dozen in a single walk.
+There is a rookery in St. Giles's, well known to the police. I have seen
+a pigeon shot not far from Shepherd's Bush, and I have heard one has
+been plucked by a member of the hawk tribe at another West-End haunt.
+Blackbeetles are common in the back kitchens of Belgravia, and
+bluebottles abound among the butchers of Whitechapel during the warm
+months. There is another kind of fly, which is said to be indigenous to
+the stables of the jobmasters, and which also may be seen by observant
+Cockney naturalists, but less seldom in Whitechapel than near the
+Regent's Park. Sparrow-clubs have not been established yet in London,
+but pea-shooters are common in many of its streets. I am told that early
+risers may hear a male canary singing in the neighbourhood of Islington
+at four o'clock, A.M., and may also hear a cock crow any morning, except
+Sunday, between five and six o'clock. The thrush has been observed among
+sundry of the children, under medical inspection, in the nurseries and
+infant hospitals of town. Little ducks are plentiful in the _salons_ of
+Tyburnia, and in Bayswater and Brompton there are numbers of great
+geese. Welsh rabbits may be seen close to Covent Garden, and wild
+turkeys have been noticed even in the Strand, hanging by the beak. In
+the purlieus of St. Stephen's, where are the sacred haunts of the
+collective wisdom of the kingdom, I have heard the hootings of many an
+old owl. From information which I have received from members of the
+metropolitan police, I may assert that larks are common in the
+Haymarket, and that on the shores of the silver Thames at Wapping there
+is frequently observable a goodly flock of mudlarks. From similar
+information, I may add that there are careful observers in the streets
+who rarely pass a day without their setting their eyes upon a robbin'.
+Who shall say that in the very midst of the metropolis there is not
+abundant evidence of a truly rural, and a tooral-looral life?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NIGHT-BIRDS THAT MAKE WEST-END NIGHT HIDEOUS.--The 'owls of 'Arry after
+his larks.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CHARADE FOR COSTERMONGERS.--My first is unfathomable, my second
+odoriferous, and my whole is a people of Africa.--_Abyss-inians._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CONSOLATION FOR COCKNEYS.--It is all very well to talk of the fine
+boulevards of Paris; but in the French metropolis, where the rent is so
+high, and the living so dear, there is not one street to be named with
+Cheapside.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Arry (encountering a shut gate for the first time)._
+"Wonder which end the thing opens? Ah, 'ere y'are! 'Ere's the 'ooks an'
+eyes!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE BEAN HARVEST
+
+_Cockney Tourist._ "Tut-t-t! Good gracious! What ever can 'ave made the
+corn turn so black?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE EASTER VACATION.
+
+_Owner._ "Well, the poor old moke ain't been quite 'isself lately, so we
+thought a day in the country 'ud do im good!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MISTAKES ABOUT SCOTLAND
+
+_(Contributed by a Converted Cockney)_
+
+It is a mistake to believe that every Scotchman, when he goes to
+Edinburgh, immediately walks down Princes Street clad in the ancient
+costume of the Highlanders.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that the _piece de resistance_ at every
+Scotch dinner-party is a haggis.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that a Scotchman does not enjoy a joke every
+bit as much as an Englishman.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that a Scotch Sabbath in the country is a
+whit more _triste_ than an English Sunday in the provinces.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that a Scotchman sets a greater value upon
+his "bawbee" than an Englishman upon his shilling or an American upon
+his dollar.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that inns in Scotland are dearer and less
+comfortable than hotels in England.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that we have a city in England that can
+compare favourably (from an architectural point of view) with the town
+of Edinburgh.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that it always rains in the Isle of Skye.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that there are no more "Fair Maids" in the
+houses of Perth.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that Hampstead Heath is as beautiful as
+Dunkeld.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that the Caledonian Canal is at all like the
+Serpentine.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that Aberdeen is less imposing in appearance
+than Chelsea or Islington.
+
+It is a mistake to believe that the countrymen of Scott and Burns do not
+appreciate the works of Shakspeare, Milton, Byron, Dickens, Thackeray,
+and Tennyson.
+
+And, lastly (this is added to the Cockney's list by the wisest sage of
+this or any other age), it is the greatest mistake of all to believe
+that _Mr. Punch_ does not like and respect (in spite of an occasional
+joke at their expense) the kindly, homely, sound-hearted people who live
+north of the Tweed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: AFTER THE RACES.
+
+_Little 'Arry (who has had a "bad day"--to driver of public coach)._
+"Ever lose any money backin' 'orses, coachie?"
+
+_Driver._ "Not 'alf! Lost twenty quid once--backed a pair of 'orses and
+a homnibus into a shop window in Regent Street!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Old Lady._ "Dear me, what a nice refined-looking little
+boy. Why, Jane, he has a mouth fit for a cherub; I really must give him
+sixpence."
+
+    [_Does so._
+
+_The Cherub (five seconds later)._ "S-s-s-s!! Billee! the old gal's give
+me a tanner!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BY OUR COCKNEY
+
+When is a yew tree not a yew tree? When it's a 'igh tree.
+
+Talking of that, _Mr. P._, what a nice line the Great Northern to
+Hedgware is, to be sure. I am, as you know, werry partickler about my
+"H"s, but "'ang me," as my friend 'Arry Belleville says, "if t'ain't
+'nough to spoil your pronunshiashun for a hage and hall time to 'ave to
+'ear such names of stations one atop of tother, as the followin', as
+called out by the porters an' guards:"
+
+  'Olloway.
+  Seven Scissors Road.
+  Crouch Hend.
+  'Ighgate and 'Ampstead.
+  Heast Hend.
+  Finchley and 'Endon.
+  Mill 'Ill.
+  Hedgware.
+
+There's a lot for you! And t'other line goes to 'Arford, 'Atfield, and
+Saint All-buns. Saint _All Buns_ would be a good feast, eh, sir?
+
+  Yours,
+
+    _Hivy 'Ouse, 'Oxton._
+
+      ENERY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First Combatant._ "----!----!----! &c."
+
+_Bystander._ "Why don't yer answer 'im back?"
+
+_Second Combatant._ "'Ow can I? 'E's used all the best words!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A COCKNEY RHAPSODY
+
+    [A critic in the _Daily News_ accuses artists generally of
+    ignorance in their treatment of rural subjects, and declares that
+    nearly every picture of work in the hay or harvest field is
+      incorrect.]
+
+  Come revel with me in the country's delights,
+  Its rapturous pleasures, its marvellous sights;
+  No landscape of common or garden I praise,
+  But Nature's strange charms that the painter pourtrays.
+
+  No summer begins there, and spring never ends,
+  It mingles with autumn, with winter it blends;
+  Its primroses bloom when the barley is ripe,
+  Amid its red apples the nightingales pipe.
+
+  There often the shadow falls southward at noon,
+  And sunrise is hailed by the pale crescent moon,
+  The sun sets at will in the east or the west,
+  In the grove where the cuckoo is building her nest.
+
+  There the milkmaid sits down to the left of the cow,
+  In harvest they sow, and in haytime they plough;
+  While mowers, in attitudes gladsome and blythe,
+  Impossible antics perform with the scythe.
+
+  There huntsmen in June after foxes may roam,
+  And horses unbridled go champing with foam;
+  From torrents by winter fierce swollen and high,
+  The proud salmon leaps in pursuit of the fly.
+
+  Ah Nature! it's little--I own for my part--
+  I know of your face save as mirrored in art;
+  Yet, vainly shall critics begrudge me that charm,
+  For a fellow can paint without learning to farm.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: BETHNAL GREEN.
+
+_East-Ender._ "'Ary Scheffer!' Hignorant fellers, these foreigners Bill!
+Spells 'Enery without the haitch!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OVERHEARD AT A MEETING OF THE UP-IN-A-BALLOON SOCIETY.
+
+_'Arry._ Wot's the difference between Nelson and that cove in the chair?
+
+_Charlie._ Give it up, mate.
+
+_'Arry._ Wy, _Nelson_ was a nautical 'ero, and this chap's a _'ero
+nautical_, to be sure.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY 'AD--FOR ONCE.--SCENE--_Exterior of St. James's Hall on a Schumann
+and Joachim Night._
+
+_'Arry (meeting High-Art Musical Friend, who has come out during an
+interval, after assisting at Madame Schumann's magnificent reception)._
+'Ullo! What's up? What are they at now?
+
+_High-Art Friend (consulting programme)._ Let me see. They've done "Op.
+13." Ah, yes! They've just got to "Op. 44."
+
+_'Arry (astounded)._ 'Op forty-four! St. James's 'All got a dancin'
+licence! Hooray! I'm all there! I'll go in for 'Op forty-five. What is
+it, a waltz or a polka?
+
+    [_Rushes to the pay-place._]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "RUDE AM I IN MY SPEECH" (OTHELLO)
+
+THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWER GIRLS]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE COMPLAINT OF THE COCKNEY CLERK
+
+    "I know of no cure but for the Englishman (1) to do his best to
+    compete in the particulars where the German now excels; (2) to try
+    to show that, taken all round, he is worth more than the
+    German."--_Mr. Gladstone on English Clerks and German Competition._
+
+  All very fine, O orator illustrious!
+    But I as soon would be a mole or merman,
+  As a short-grubbing, horribly industrious,
+            Linguistic German.
+
+  A clerk's a clerk, that is a cove who scribbles
+    All day, and then goes in for cue, and "jigger,"
+  And not a mere machine who feeds by nibbles,
+            Slaves like a nigger.
+
+  Learn languages? And for two quid a week?
+    Cut barmaids, billiards, bitter beer and betting?
+  Yah! that may suit a sausage, or a sneak!
+            Whistles need wetting.
+
+  That is if they are genuine English whistles,
+    And not dry, hoarse, yah-yah Teutonic throttles.
+  _I_'m not a donkey who can thrive on thistles.
+            No, that's "no bottles."
+
+  I've learned my native tongue,--and that's a teaser--
+    I've also learned a lot of slang and patter;
+  But German, French, Italian, Portuguese, sir,
+            For "screw" no fatter?
+
+  Not me, my old exuberant wood-chopper!
+    Level _me_ to the straw-haired Carls and Hermanns?
+  No; there's another trick would do me proper,--
+            Kick out the Germans!
+
+  Old Bismarck's "blood and iron's" a receipt meant
+    For sour-krautt gobblers, sandy and sardonic!
+  But for us Britons that Teutonic treatment
+            Is much too tonic.
+
+  The cheek of 'em just puts me in a rage,
+    Send 'em back home, ah! even pay their passage
+  Or soon, by Jove, we'll have to call our age,
+            The German "sauce"-age!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: AN INFORMAL INTRODUCTION.
+
+_'Arry (shouting across the street to his "Pal")._ "Hi! Bill! This is
+'er!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "ON A CLIFF BY THE SEA"
+
+    (_Whit Monday_)
+
+  A verse for "'Arry"? Well, I'm shot!
+    (Excuse my language plain and terse)
+  For such a nuisance I have not
+            A verse.
+
+  His praise don't ask me to rehearse,
+    But, if you like--I'll tell you what--
+  The _role_ of Baalam I'll reverse.
+
+  Only, like Balak, from this spot
+    Desire me 'Arry's tribe to curse,
+  To grant that prayer you'll find me not
+            Averse!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Arriet._ "Wot toime his the next troine fer
+'Ammersmith?" _Clerk._ "Due now."
+
+_'Arriet._ "'Course Oi dawn't now, stoopid, or I wouldn't be harskin'
+yer!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY IN ROME AND LONDON
+
+A kind correspondent calls _Mr. Punch's_ attention to the fact that
+'Arry the ubiquitous crops up even in the classics as Arrius, in fact,
+in _Carmen_ lxxxiv. of Catullus. How proud 'Arry will be to hear of his
+classical prototype! Our correspondent "dropping into verse,"
+exclaims:--
+
+  Yes! Your Cockney is eternal;
+    Arrius speaks in 'Arry still;
+  Vaunts 'is "hincome" by paternal
+    "Hartful" tricks hup 'Olborn 'Ill.
+
+     How well he is justified may be seen by a glance at the text of
+        Catullus:--
+
+        DE ARRIO.
+
+  "C_h_ommoda" dicebat, si quando commoda vellet
+    Dicere, et "_h_indsidias" Arrius insidias:
+  Et tum mirifice sperabat se esse locutum.
+    Cum, quantum poterat, dixerat "_h_insidias."
+  Credo, sic mater, sic Liber avunculus ejus.
+    Sic maternus avus dixerit, atque avia.
+
+                               Catullus, _Carmen_ lxxxiv.
+
+    Which--for the benefit of 'Arry himself, who is not perhaps
+    familiar with the "Lingo Romano"--though he may know something of a
+    "Romano" dear to certain young sportsmen, though not dearer to
+    them than other caterers--may thus be _very_ freely  adapted:--
+
+  'Arry to _H_oxford gives the aspirate still
+  He cruelly denies to 'Igate 'Ill;
+  Yet deems in diction he can ape the "swell,"
+  And "git the 'ang of it" exceeding well.
+  Doubtless his sire, the 'atter, and his mother,
+  The hupper 'ousemaid, so addressed each other;
+  For spite of all that wrangling Board Schools teach,
+  There seems heredity in Cockney speech.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COMMERCIAL INTELLIGENCE.--According to a trade circular issued by a
+Cockney company, Florence and Lucca, whence the finer description of
+oils have been heretofore imported, are threatened with a vigorous
+competition by the Iles of Greece.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE RICHEST DISH IN THE WORLD.--The "weal" of fortune.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY'S MOTTO.--"Youth on the prowl and pleasure at the 'elm."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Lady._ "Half-a-crown, indeed! Your fare is
+eighteen-pence. I looked it up in Bradshaw."
+
+_Cabman._ "Well, to be sure! Wot a good wife you _would 'ave_ made for a
+pore man!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: BACK TO THE LAND.
+
+_Farmer's Wife (who has told the new lad from London to collect eggs)._
+"Well, Jack, have you got many?"
+
+_Jack (who has raided a sitting hen)._ "Rauther! One old 'en she's bin
+and layed thirteen, and I don't think she's finished yet!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LINES BY A COCKNEY
+
+_Addressed to A Young Lady, but dropped by some mistake into Mr. Punch's
+letter-box._
+
+  Sweet hangel, whom I met last heve
+    Hat Mrs. Harthur's 'op,
+  I 'ope that you will give me leave
+    A question now to pop.
+
+  I mind me 'ow when in the 'all
+    Your carriage was hannounced,
+  You hasked me to hadjust your shawl,
+    Hon which with 'aste I pounced.
+
+  Then heager to your Ma you ran,
+    She anxious to be gone,
+  I 'eard 'er call you Mary-Hann,
+    Or helse 'twas Mari-hon.
+
+  Now, Mary-Hann's a name I 'ate
+    Has much as Betsy-Jane,
+  I could not bear to link my fate
+    With such a 'orrid name;
+
+  But Mari-hon I like as well
+    As hany name I know;
+  Then, hangel, I emplore thee tell,
+    Dost spell it with a Ho?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: POLITICS AND GALLANTRY
+
+_First 'Arry._ "Hay, wot's this 'ere Rosebery a torkin' abaat? Bless'd
+if he ain't a goin' to do awy with the Lords!"
+
+_Second 'Arry (more of a Don Juan than a Politician)._ "Do awy with the
+'ole bloomin' lot o' Lords, if he likes, as long as he don't do away
+with the lidies!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "AND _SHE_ OUGHT TO KNOW!"
+
+"That's supposed to be a portograph of Lady Solsbury. But, bless yer, it
+ain't like her a bit in private!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: 'ARRY'S AUNT UPON THE CLIFF
+
+A study in perspective done by 'Arry with a 'and camera.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ECHO'S ANSWERS
+
+  _To a Cockney Inquirer who consults her concerning the inevitable Annual
+  "Outing" and its probable issues._
+
+_Inquirer._ What subject sets me worrying and doubting?
+
+_Echo. "Outing._"
+
+_Inquirer._ My wife suggests for family health's improving?--
+
+_Echo. Roving._
+
+_Inquirer._ What's the first requisite for taking pleasure?
+
+_Echo. Leisure._
+
+_Inquirer._ The second (for a slave to matrimony)?
+
+_Echo. Money._
+
+_Inquirer._ You say that woman of all founts of mischief--
+
+_Echo. Is chief._
+
+_Inquirer._ What is this close agreement of _my_ women?
+
+_Echo. Omen._
+
+_Inquirer._ I fear for me they'll prove a deal too clever?
+
+_Echo. Ever._
+
+_Inquirer._ What is the manner of my buxom Mary?
+
+_Echo. Airy._
+
+_Inquirer._ And what's her goal in every hint and notion?
+
+_Echo. Ocean._
+
+_Inquirer._ How recommends she Ramsgate, shrimpy, sandy?
+
+_Echo. 'Andy._
+
+_Inquirer._ Whereas _I_ hold it at this season torrid?--
+
+_Echo. 'Orrid!_
+
+_Inquirer._ And hint, with a faint view to scare or stop her?--
+
+_Echo. 'Opper!_
+
+_Inquirer._ (Meaning the _Pulex_.) Answers she politely?
+
+_Echo. Lightly._
+
+_Inquirer._ How then am I inclined to view the mater?
+
+_Echo. 'Ate her._
+
+_Inquirer._ What feel I when she hints at sea-side clothing?
+
+_Echo. Loathing._
+
+_Inquirer._ Mention of what makes all my family scoffers?
+
+_Echo. Coffers._
+
+_Inquirer._ Then if I storm, what word breaks sequent stillness?
+
+_Echo. Illness!_
+
+_Inquirer._ What feels a man when women 'gin to blubber?
+
+_Echo. Lubber._
+
+_Inquirer._ What is the show of patience that may follow?
+
+_Echo. Hollow!_
+
+_Inquirer._ What would the sex when it assumes that virtue?
+
+_Echo. Hurt you._
+
+_Inquirer._ What's the result of halting and misgiving?
+
+_Echo. Giving._
+
+_Inquirer._ What is man's share anent this yearly yearning?
+
+_Echo. Earning._
+
+_Inquirer._ What's the chief issue of this seaward flowing?
+
+_Echo. Owing._
+
+_Inquirer_. How long before I'm free of tradesmen's pages?
+
+_Echo. Ages!_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE MOORS.
+
+Our Cockney correspondent says that the birds are very wild, and that
+the heath being extremely slippery, the attempt to run after them is apt
+to be attended with numerous falls, especially in patent-leather boots.
+He says the exercise is fatiguing in the extreme, and complains that
+there are no cabs to be had on the hills though there are plenty of
+flies.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+DOUBLE COCKNEY CONUNDRUM FOR THE DERBY DAY.--"What eminent composer
+would in England have probably been 'in the ring'?"
+
+"_'Aydn._"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because who ever 'eard of 'Aydn alone? Ain't it always a '_Aydn and
+abettin_'? Eh? Now then! Come up, can't yer!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: EUPHEMISM.
+
+_Cab Tout (exasperated by the persistent attentions of constable)._
+"Look 'ere, ole lightnin'-ketcher, w'ere the missin' word are yer
+shovin' us to?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Coster (to acquaintance, who has been away for some
+months)._ "Wot are yer bin doin' all this time?"
+
+_(Bill Robbins who has been "doing time")._ "Oh I've bin wheelin' a
+bit, ole man--wheelin' a bit!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: HE THOUGHT HE WAS SAFE.
+
+_Irascible Old Gentleman._ "Buy a comb! What the devil should I buy a
+comb for? You don't see any hair on my head, do you?"
+
+_Unlicensed Hawker._ "Lor' bless yer, sir!--yer don't want no 'air on
+yer 'ead for a tooth-comb!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A QUESTION OF TASTE
+
+_Liz (to Emily)._ "Mind yer, it's all roight so fur as it goes. All I
+sez is, it wants a fevver or two, or a bit o' plush somewhares, to give
+it what I call _stoyle_!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE LAND OF THE 'ARRY'UNS.--'Am'stead 'eath.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When a vulgar husband drops his h's, a good wife drops her eyes.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE SNOW CURE!!
+
+_Fiendish Little Boy (to elderly gentleman, who has come a cropper for
+the fourth time in a hundred yards)._ "'Ere I say, guv'nor, you're fair
+wallerin' in it this mornin'! H'anyone 'ud think as you'd bin hordered
+it by your medical man!!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: OPEN TO DOUBT
+
+_Ostler (dubiously, to 'Arry, who is trying to mount on the wrong
+side)._ "Beg pard'n, sir, I suppose you're quite accustomed to 'osses,
+sir?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NOTES BY A COCKNEY NATURALIST
+
+There are various kinds of larks to be observed by Cockney naturalists,
+which are more or less, and rather less than more, indigenous to London.
+There is first of all the cage lark (_Alauda Miserrima_) which is
+chiefly found on grass-plats measuring about two inches square, and may
+be heard singing plaintively in many a back slum. Then there is the mud
+lark (_Alauda Greenwichiensis_), which is principally seen towards
+nightfall on the shores of the river, when the whitebait is in season.
+This little lark is a migratory bird, and flits from place to place in
+quest of anything worth picking up that may happen to be thrown to it.
+Finally, there is the street lark (_Alauda Nocturna_), which is known to
+most policemen in the neighbourhood of the Haymarket, and the like
+nocturnal haunts.
+
+As a gratifying proof of our progressing civilisation, there has been of
+recent years a very marked decrease in the number of white mice, and
+monkeys dressed as soldiers, exhibited by organ-grinders in the London
+streets. Trained dogs appear, however, decidedly more numerous, and
+performing canaries may be met with not infrequently in the squares of
+the West End. The naturalist should note, moreover, that the learned
+British pig (_Porcus Sapiens Britannicus_) which, within the memory of
+men who are still living, used commonly to infest the fairs near the
+metropolis, has recently well nigh completely disappeared and is
+believed by sundry naturalists to be utterly extinct.
+
+The rum shrub (_Shrubbus Curiosus_) which, although deserving of close
+investigation has somehow escaped mention in the pages of Linnaeus, is
+found in great profusion in the purlieus of Whitechapel, as well as
+other parts of London where dram-drinkers do congregate. It may be
+generally discovered in proximity to the Pot-tree (_Arbor
+Pewteriferens_), which may be readily recognised by its metallic fruit.
+
+The common cat of the metropolis (_Felis Catterwaulans_) is remarkable,
+especially for the exceeding frequency and shrillness of its cries when
+it goes upon the tiles, or proceeds to other spots of feline popular
+resort. Sleep becomes impossible within earshot of its yellings, and the
+injury they cause to property as well as human temper is immense. It
+has, indeed, been roughly estimated that thirty thousand water-jugs are
+annually sacrificed, within a circuit of not more than six miles from
+St. Paul's, by being hurled from bedroom windows with the aim to stop
+these squalling feline "Voices of the night."
+
+A certain proof that oysters are amphibious may be noted in the fact
+that they always build their grottoes in the courts and the back streets
+of the metropolis where, in the month of August, with extravagant
+profusion, their shells are yearly cast.
+
+The scarlet-coated lobster (_Le Homard Militaire_, Cuvier) has been
+frequently discovered on the shores of the Serpentine, or basking by the
+margin of the water in St. James's Park. This crustacean, when treated
+well, will drink like a fish, excepting that, unlike a fish, he does not
+confine himself to water for his drink. His shell (jacket) is of a
+bright red colour, which is not produced, as in the lobster species
+generally, by the agency of the caloric in the act of being boiled. The
+scarlet-coated lobster leads, while in London, a very peaceful life,
+notwithstanding his presumed propensities for fighting.
+
+If we may credit the statistics which, with no slight labour, have been
+recently collected, no fewer than five million and eleven blue-bottles
+are annually slaughtered in the butchers' shops of London, before
+depositing their ova in the primest joints of meat. The number of the
+smaller flies which, merely in the City, are every year destroyed for
+buzzing round the bald heads of irritable bank clerks, amounts, it has
+been calculated, to one million three hundred thousand and thirteen.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FROM TAPLOW.--_First 'Arry._ I'll tell you a good name for a riverside
+inn--_"The Av-a-launch"._
+
+_Second 'Arry._ I'll tell you a better--"The 'Ave-a-lunch." Come along!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "Did yer order any ile round the corner?"
+
+"What do you mean by ile? Do you mean oil?"
+
+"Naw. Not ile, but ILE wot yer drinks!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A QUESTION OF THE SENSES.
+
+_First County Councillor._ "I'm told the _acoustics_ of this hall leave
+much to be desired, Mr. Brown!"
+
+_Second C. C. (delicately sniffing)._ "Indeed, Sir Pompey? Can't say as
+I perceive anythink amiss, myself; and my nose is pretty sharp, too!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: QUICK WORK.
+
+_Guttersnipe._ "Please muvver wants sixpence on this 'ere fryin' pan."
+
+_Pawnbroker._ "Hallo! it's _hot_!"
+
+_Guttersnipe._ "Yus, muvver's just cooked the sossidges, an' wants the
+money for the beer!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: WE MUSTN'T ALWAYS JUDGE BY APPEARANCES.
+
+"I say, Bill, you aren't got such a thing as the price of 'arf a pint
+about you, are yer? I'm so blooming dry!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Philanthropic Coster' (who has been crying
+"Perry-wink-wink-wink!" till he's hoarse--and no buyers)._ "I wonder
+what the p'or unfort'nate creeters in these 'ere low neighb'r'oods do
+live on!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: RUDE INQUIRY
+
+_Street Arabs._ "Hoo curls yer 'air, gov'nour?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: BILLINGSGATE UP-TO-DATE.
+
+_'Enery._ "'Ullo, Chawley? Wot's up? 'As yer motor broke down?"
+
+_Chawley (whose "moke" is a "bit below himself")._ "Yuss, smashed me
+'sparking plug.'"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First "Growler"._ "'Ulloah, William, where are yer
+takin' that little lot?"
+
+_Second "Growler"._ "Hararat! Don't yer see I'm navigatin' the Hark?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Arriet._ "I will say this for Bill, 'e _do_ look the
+gentleman!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First Urchin._ "Fifth o' November, sir! Only a copper,
+sir! Jist a penny, sir!"
+
+_Second Urchin._ "Let 'im alone. _Cawn't yer see 'e's one of the
+family!_"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SONGS FOR THE NATION
+
+"[Greek: Lays are a luxury songs essential.]"
+
+    _'Arrystophanes._
+
+
+It is evident that the nation is yearning for singable songs in the
+'Arry dialect. The late lamented Artemus Ward would probably have said,
+"Let her yearn"; but a stern sense of duty impels me to try and meet the
+need, created by the _Daily Chronicle_. I have a comforting impression
+that all that is necessary to insure correctness is to "chinge" as many
+"a"s as possible into "i"s. By this means I secure the "local
+colouring," which, by the way, has undergone a complete change since
+Dickens spelt Weller "with a wee, my lord." A catchword, a propos of
+nothing, is always useful, so I have duly provided it.
+
+        'ARRY THE OPTIMIST
+
+                  I.
+    Oh! you should see
+    My gal and me
+  (Mariar is 'er nime),
+    When we go daown
+    To Brighton taown
+  To 'ave a gorjus time.
+
+  She wears sich feathers in 'er 'at,
+    She's beautiful and guy,
+  But it ain't all beer and skittles--flat
+    And 'ere's the reason why:
+  _Refrine--_
+    She 'urries me, she worries me,
+      To ketch the bloomin' trine;
+    She 'ustles me, she bustles me,
+      She grumbles 'arf the time:
+    It's "'Arry do," and "'Arry don't,"
+    Which "'Arry" will, or "'Arry" won't
+      (It goes against the grine),
+    But--
+  (_Triumphantly._)
+        We 'as a 'appy 'ollidy,
+    We gets there all the sime.
+        --'Urry up, 'Arry.
+
+
+                 II.
+
+          And when we reach
+          The Brighton beach
+        It's sure to pour with rine
+          A pub is not
+          A 'appy spot
+        For us to set and drine
+  Yet there we set and tike our beer
+    And while awy the dy,
+  Though we don't 'ave words, no bloomin' fear
+    Mariar 'as 'er sy.
+  _Refrine--_
+    'Er langwidge is for sangwidges,
+      She's sorry that she cime;
+        The weather's wrong, 'er feather's wrong,
+          I 'as to tike the blime.
+        It's "'Arry" 'ere, and "'Arry" there,
+        And "'Arry, you're a bloomin' bear,"
+          And "'Arry, it's a shime"--
+  (_Spoken._)--Which is 'ard on a feller! And then we 'as
+  to ketch the bloomin' trine again, and she _do_ talk, but
+  never mind--
+        (_Brightly._)
+          We've 'ad a 'appy 'ollidy,
+        We gits 'ome all the sime.
+          --'Urry up, 'Arry!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEY SPORT EXTRAORDINARY.
+
+Well-known sporting character, residing at Putney, being unable to reach
+the moors this season, and having lost his gun, has lately amused
+himself by bringing down several brace of grouse by means of the
+Brompton omnibus.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AT THE ZOO. (A FACT).--_'Arriet (looking at the Java sparrows)._ Wot's
+them? Sparrerkeets?
+
+_'Arry._ Sparrerkeets be 'anged--them's live 'umming birds.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: COMMON OBJECTS OF THE SEA SHORE.
+
+_First seaside saddle polisher._ "Wot cheer, 'Arry? 'Ow are yer gettin'
+on?"
+
+_'Arry._ "First-rate, old pal. Only this--beggar always--bumps--at the
+wrong--time!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: UNDER CORRECTION.
+
+Fare. "Hans Mansions."
+
+_Cabby._ "_Queen_ Hanne's Mansions, I suppose you mean, miss?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "Penny 'addick."
+
+"Finen?"
+
+"No; thick 'un!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First Frenchman._ "Ah, mon cher ami!"
+
+_Second Frenchman._ "Ah, c'est mon cher Alphonse!"
+
+_British Workman._ "Bloomin' Germans!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Clerk of Booking-Office._ "There is _no_ first class by
+this train, sir." _'Arry._ "Then wot are we going ter do, Bill?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "Fader's gettin' better. 'E's beginnin' ter swear
+again!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Vendor of Pirated Songs._ "Er y'are, lidy! ''Oly City',
+'Bu'ful Star,' 'Hi cawn't think why Hi lubs yer, but Hi do!'"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY ON HIS 'OLIDAY
+
+_Being an epistle from that notorious and ubiquitous person, luxuriating
+for the time in rural parts, to his chum Charlie, confined in town._
+
+  Wha' cheer, my dear Charlie? 'Ow are yer? I promised I'd drop yer
+      a line.
+  I'm out on the trot for a fortnit; and ain't it golumpshusly fine?
+  Bin dooing the swell pretty proper, I beg to assure yer, old man.
+  Jest go it tip-top while you're at it, and blow the expense, is
+      _my_ plan.
+
+  Bin took for a nob, and no error this time; which my tailor's A 1.
+  The cut of these bags, sir, beats Poole _out of_ fits. (Are yer fly
+      to the pun?)
+  And this gridiron pattern in treacle and mustard is something uneek,
+  As the girls--but there, Charlie, _you_ know me, and so there's no
+      call for to speak.
+
+  My merstach is a coming on proper--that fetches 'em, Charlie, my boy;
+  Though one on 'em called me young spiky, which doubtless was meant
+      to annoy.
+  But, bless yer! 'twas only a touch of the green-eyed, 'acos I looked
+      sweet
+  On a tidy young parcel in pink as 'ung out in the very same street.
+
+  O Charlie, such larks as I'm 'aving. To toddle about on the sands,
+  And watch the blue beauties a-bathing, and spot the sick muffs as
+      they lands,
+  Awful flabby and white in the gills, and with hoptics so sheepishly
+      sad,
+  And twig 'em go green as we chaff 'em; I tell yer it isn't half bad.
+
+  Then, s'rimps! Wy, I pooty near lives on 'em; got arf a pocketful
+      here,
+  There's a flavour of bird's-eye about 'em; but that's soon took off
+      by the beer.
+  The "bitter" round here is jest lummy, and as for their soda-and-b.,
+  It's ekal to "fizz" and no error, and suits this small child to a t.
+
+  The weeds as I've blown is a caution;--I'm nuts on a tuppenny smoke.
+  Don't care for the baths, but there's sailing, and rollicking rides
+      on a moke.
+  I've sung comic songs on the cliffs after dark, and wot's fun if
+      that ain't?
+  And I've chiselled my name in a church on the cheek of a rummy stone
+      saint.
+
+  So, Charlie, I think you will see, I've been doing the tourist
+      to rights.
+  Good grub and prime larks in the daytime, and billiards and bitter
+      at nights;
+  That's wot _I_ calls 'oliday-making, my pippin. I wish _you_ was here,
+  Jest wouldn't we go it extensive! But now I am off for the pier.
+
+  To ogle the girls. 'Ow they likes it! though some of their dragons
+      looks blue.
+  But lor'! if a chap _has_ a way with the sex, what the doose can
+      he do?
+  The toffs may look thunder and tommy on me and my spicey rig out,
+  But they don't stare yours faithfully down, an' it's all nasty envy,
+      no doubt.
+
+  Ta! ta! There's a boat coming in, and the sea has been roughish
+      all day;
+  All our fellows will be on the watch, and _I_ mustn't be out of
+      the way.
+  Carn't yer manige to run down on Sunday? I tell yer it's larks,
+      and no kid!
+                      Yours bloomingly,
+                                            'ARRY.
+
+    P.S.--I have parted with close on four quid!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+POISON IN THE BOWL.--_Hot weather._--Advice by our own Cockney. Don't
+put ice in your champagne. It's pison. How do I know this? Because it
+comes from Venom Lake.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SEASONABLE.--_'Arry's friend._ What's the proper dinner for Ash
+Wednesday?
+
+_'Arry._ Why, 'ash mutton, o' course.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: SELF-RESPECT.
+
+_The Missus._ "Oh, Jem, you said you'd give me your photergrarf. Now,
+let's go in, and get it done."
+
+_Jem._ "Oh, I dessay! an' 'ave my 'Carte de Wisete' stuck up in the
+winder along o' all these 'ere bally-gals an' 'igh-church parsons! No,
+Sairey!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE TRIALS OF OUR ARTISTIC FRIEND, LEONARDO DA TOMPKINS
+
+(_Who lives in an unappreciative Suburb_)
+
+_'Arriet (nudging her lidy friend, and in an ostentatious
+stage-whisper)._ "'Amlet!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Tenor (singing)._ "Oh, 'appy, 'appy, 'appy be thy
+dreams----"
+
+_Professor._ "Stop, stop! Why don't you sound the H?"
+
+_Tenor._ "It don't go no 'igher than G!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First Newspaper Boy._ "Hullo, Bill! Who's 'e?"
+
+_Second Newspaper Boy._ "I suppose 'e's the North Pole as 'as just been
+discovered!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Gorgeous-looking Individual._ "Most 'strordinary
+weather, ain't it? First it's 'ot, then it's cold. Blow me, if one knows
+'ow to dress!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "I say, Bill, wot 's a Prodigal?"
+
+"Why, a Prodigal's a sort o' cove as keeps on coming back!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: NOT WHAT SHE EXPECTED
+
+SCENE--_Canal side, Sunday morning_
+
+_Lady._ "Do you know where little boys go to who bathe on Sunday?"
+
+_First Arab._ "Yus. It's farder up the canal side. But you can't go.
+Girls ain't allowed!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY ON 'APPINESS
+
+DEAR CHARLIE,
+
+        A 'Appy New Year to yer! That's the straight tip for to-day,
+  So I'm bound to be in it, old chip, though things don't _look_
+      remarkable gay.
+  I inclose you a card--a correct one, I 'ope, though it strikes one
+      as queer
+  That such picters is thought _apprypo_ this perticular time of the
+      year.
+
+  You'll observe there's a hangel in muslin a twisting 'erself all awry,
+  With some plums, happle-blossoms, and marigolds, backed by a dab
+      o' blue sky.
+  Dekkyrative it's called, so the mivvy informed me who nobbled
+      my tanner;
+  _I_ call it a little bit mixed, like the art on a Odd-Fellow's
+      banner.
+
+  But, bless you, it's all of a piece, Charlie--life is so muddled
+      with rot
+  That it takes rayther more than a judge or a jury to tell yer
+      wot's wot.
+  Whether knifing a boy 'cos one's peckish means murder if lyings are
+      libels,
+  Seem questions as bothers the big wigs, in spite of their blue books
+      and Bibles.
+
+  Where are we, old pal? that's the question. Perhaps it would add to
+      one's ease
+  If life wos declared a "mixed wobble," it's motter a "go as you
+      please."
+  But 'tisn't all cinder-path, Charlie, wus luck! if it was, with
+      "all in,"
+  You wouldn't go fur wrong, I fancy, in backing "yours truly" to win.
+
+  "A 'Appy New Year!" That's the cackle all over the shop like to-day.
+  Wot's 'Appiness? Praps Mister Ruskin and little Lord Garmoyle will say.
+  You an' me's got _our_ notions of yum-yum, as isn't fur wide
+      o' the mark,
+  But who'll give us change for 'em, Charlie? Ah! that's where we're
+      left in the dark.
+
+  The Reform Bill won't do it, my pippin, on that you may lay your
+      last dollar.
+  The fact is this 'Appy New Year fake is 'oller, mate, hutterly 'oller.
+  'Twon't fly--like the Christmas card hangels, it doesn't fit into
+      the facks;
+  All it does is to spread tommy-rot, and to break all the postmen's
+      poor backs.
+
+  You'll be thinking I've got the blue-mouldies, old man, and you
+      won't be fur hout.
+  Funds low with yours truly, my bloater, no chances of getting about.
+  Larks, any amount of 'em, going, advertisements gassing like fun,
+  But 'Arry, for once in the way, 's a stone-broker and not in the run.
+
+  It's cutting, that's wot it is, _cutting_. I'm so used to leading
+      the field,
+  That place as fust-fly at life's fences is one as I _don't_ like
+      to yield,
+  Espechly to one like Bill Blossit--no style, not a bit about Bill!
+  And they talk of a 'Appy New Year, mate, and cackle o' peace
+      and goodwill!
+
+  Oh yus, I'd goodwill 'em, Bill Blossit and false Fanny Friswell, a lot!
+  They are off to the world's fair to-night, sir, and _that's_ wy I
+      say it's such rot.
+  If form such as mine's to go 'obbling whilst mugginses win out
+      o' sight,
+  I say the world's handicap's wrong, mate, and Christmas cards won't
+      set it right.
+
+  Lor bless yer, 'e ain't got no patter, not more than a nutmeg,
+      Bill ain't;
+  But the railway has taken his shop, and he's come out as fresh as
+      new paint.
+  And so because _I'm_ out of luck, and that duffer has landed the chink,
+  She 'ooks onto him _like_ a bat to a belfry, sir! What do _you_ think?
+
+  A 'Appy New Year? Yus, it looks like it! Charlie, old chap, I've
+      heard tell
+  Of parties called pessymists, writers as swear the whole world's
+      a big sell;
+  No doubt they've bin jilted, or jockeyed by some such a juggins
+      as Bill;
+  And without real jam--cash and kisses--this world is a bitterish
+      pill.
+
+  Still, I wish you a 'Appy New Year, if you care for the kibosh,
+      old chappie,
+  Though 'taint 'igh art cards full o' gush and green paint'll make
+      you and me 'appy.
+  Wot _we_ want is lucre and larks, love and lotion as much as you'll
+      carry!
+  Give me them, and one slap at that Bill,--They're the new year
+      gifts to suit.
+
+       'ARRY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AT SCARBOROUGH.--_'Arriet (pointing to postillions of pony-chaises)._
+Why do all them boys wear them jackets?
+
+_'Arry._ There's a stoopid question! Why, they're all jockeys a-training
+for the Ledger, of course!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+EGGING HIM ON.--_Knowing old Gentleman._ Now, sir, talking of eggs, can
+you tell me where a ship lays to?
+
+_Smart Youth (not in the least disconcerted)._ Don't know, sir, unless
+it is in the hatchway.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+RETREAT FOR COCKNEY IDLERS.--Earn nil.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: AN EASTER OBJECT LESSON
+
+(_At the Natural History Museum_)
+
+_Visitor._ "Hullo! I say, I've got 'em agin! Gi' me the blue ribbon!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: HIS BEST "SOOT."
+
+_Short-tempered Gentleman in Black (after violent collision with a
+stonemason fresh from work)._ "Now, I'll arsk you jest to look at the
+narsty beastly mess as you've gone and mide me in! Why, I'm simply
+smothered in some 'orrid white stuff!! Why don't yer be more
+careful!!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: OVERHEARD DURING ONE OF OUR RECENT STORMY DAYS.
+
+"What cheer, matey! Doin' any business?"
+
+"Garn! Wot yer gettin' at? I ain't 'ere to do business. I'm takin' the
+hopen hair treatment!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ALWAYS BE KIND TO DUMB ANIMALS.
+
+_Master._ "Jim!"
+
+_Page._ "Yessir."
+
+_Master._ "Rather a 'igh 'ill we're comin' to, ain't it?"
+
+_Page._ "Very 'igh 'ill indeed, sir."
+
+_Master._ "Ah! well, jest you jump down, Jim, and walk alongside a bit;
+it'll make it easier for the poor 'orse, you know."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: REAL SYMPATHY.
+
+_'Arry (reading account of the war in the East)._ "Ow, I s'y, 'Arriet,
+they've bin an' took old Li 'Ung Chang's three-heyed peacock's feathers
+all off 'im!"
+
+_'Arriet (compassionately)._ "Pore old feller!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "SWEET LAVENDER!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "AUT CAESAR AUT NULLUS."
+
+_Architect._ "What aspect would you like, Mr. Smithers?" _(who is about
+to build a house)_.
+
+_Mr. Smithers._ "Has Muggles"--(_a rival tradesman_)--"got a haspect?
+'Cause--mind yer, I should like mine made a good deal bigger than
+'is!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE LAST STRAW.
+
+_Miss Effie has left her sun-shade on the other side of the rivulet. The
+chivalrous young De Korme attempts the dangerous pass in order to
+restore it to her.
+
+Obnoxiously Festive 'Arry (to him)._ "Ho, yuss! Delighted, I'm sure!
+_Drop in any time you're passin'!_"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY ON THE MERRY MONTH OF MAY
+
+    DEAR CHARLIE,
+
+  'Ow are yer, old Turmuts? Gone mouldy, or moon-struck, or wot?
+  Sticking down in the country, like you do, I tell yer, is all
+      tommy-rot.
+  Its town makes a man of one, Charlie, as me and the nobs 'as found out,
+  And a snide 'un like you should be fly to it. Carn't fancy wot you're
+      about.
+
+  Old Ruskin, I know, sez quite t'other, but then _he_ is clean off his
+      chump.
+  Where's the _life_ in long lanes, with no gas-lamps? Their smell
+      always give me the 'ump.
+  Come hout on it, mate, it'll spile yer. It's May, and the season's
+      begun,
+  All the toffs is in town--ah! you trust 'em! _they_ know where
+      to dropon the fun.
+
+  Don't ketch _them_ a-Maying, my pippin, like bloomin' old
+      Jacks-in-the-Green,
+  A-sloppin' about in damp medders, with never a pub to be seen.
+  No fear! We've primroses in tons--thanks to Beakey--for them as
+      can pay.
+  And other larks as _is_ larks, mate, they know meet in London in May.
+
+  It is all very well, on a Sunday, for just arf a dozen or so
+  To take a chay-cart down to Epsom, and cut down the may as yer go.
+  I've 'ad 'igh old times on that lay, Charlie, gals, don't yer know,
+      and all that,
+  Returning at dusk with the beer on, and may branches all round yer 'at.
+
+  With plenty of tuppenny smokes and 'am san'wiches, Charlie, old man,
+  And a bit of good goods in pink musling, it ain't arf a bad sort
+      o' plan.
+  Concertina, in course, and tin whistle, to give 'em a rouser all round,
+  And "chorus," all over the shop, till the winders'll shake at
+      the sound.
+
+  That's "May, merry May," if yer like, mate, and does your's ancetrar
+      a treat.
+  But the rural's a dose as wants mixing, it won't do to swaller it neat;
+  That's wy the Haristos and 'Arry, and all as is fly to wot's wot,
+  Likes passing the season in London, in spite of yer poetry rot.
+
+  Country's all jolly fine in the autumn, with plenty of killing about--
+  Day's rabbitin's not a bad barney, and gull-potting's lummy, no doubt;
+  But green fields with nothink to slorter, no pubs, no theaytres,
+      no gas!--
+  No, no, it won't wash, and the muggins as tells yer it will is a hass.
+
+  But May in "the village," my biffin, the mighty metrolopus,--ah!
+  That's paradise, sir, and no kid, with a dash of the true lah-di-dah.
+  Covent Garden licks Eden, I reckon, at least it'll do _me_ A 1;
+  Button-'oler and Bond Street, old pal, that's yer fair top-row
+      sarmple for fun!
+
+  Wy, we git all the best of the country in London, with dollups
+      chucked in.
+  _Rush in herby!_--ascuse the Hitalian!--Ah, mate, ony wish I'd
+      the tin;
+  I'd take 'em a trot, and no flounders! It's 'ard, bloomin' 'ard,
+      my dear boy,
+  When form as is form ain't no fling, as a German ud say,
+      _fo der quoy._
+
+  _I_'d make Mister Ruskin sit up, and the rest of the 'owlers see
+      snakes,
+  With their rot about old Mother Nature, as _never_ don't make no
+      mistakes.
+  Yah! Nature's a fraud and a fizzle, that is if yer can't fake her
+      out
+  With the taste of a man about town, ony sort as knows wot he 's
+      about.
+
+  Well, London's all yum-yum jest now. Hexhibitions all hover the shop,
+  I tell yer it keeps one a-movin'. _I_'m on the perpetual 'op,
+  Like the prince. Aitch har aitch _is_ a stayer, a fair royal Rowell,
+      I say.
+  (I landed a quid on _that_ "Mix," but I carnt git the beggar to pay.)
+
+  "Inventories" open, you know. Rayther dry, but the _extrys_ O.K.
+  It's the extrys, I 'old, make up life, arf the pleasure and most o'
+     the pay.
+  Yus, princes and painters, philanterpists, premiers and patriots may
+      gush,
+  But wot ud become of their shows if it weren't for the larks and the
+      lush?
+
+ Lor bless yer, dear boy, picter galleries, balls, sandwich sworries
+     and all,--
+ It's fun and the fizz makes 'em go, not the picter, the speech or
+     the squall.
+ Keep yer eye on the buffet's my maxim, look out for the "jam" and
+     the laugh,
+ And you'll collar the pick o' the basket, the rest is all sordust
+     and chaff.
+
+  That's philosophy, Charlie, my pippin; the parsons and prigs may
+      demur,
+  But if you would foller _their_ tip, wy, you'll 'ave to go
+      thundering fur.
+  Ah! "May, merry May!" up in town, fills your snide 'un as full as
+      he'll carry
+  Of laughter and lotion. That's gospel to toffs and yours
+      scrumptiously,
+
+      'ARRY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A JUDGE OF CHARACTER.
+
+_Sympathetic Friend (to sweeper)._ "What's the use o' arstin' _'im_,
+Bill? _'E_ don't give away nothink less than a Gover'ment appointment,
+_'e_ don't!!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A BI-METALLISTIC DISCUSSION
+
+_Jim._ "What's this 'ere 'Bi-metallism,' Bill?"
+
+_Bill (of superior intelligence)._ "Well, yer see, Jim, it 's heither a
+licens'd wittlers' or a teetotal dodge. The wages'll be paid in silver,
+and no more coppers. So you can't get no arf-pint nor hanythink under a
+sixpence or a thrip'ny. Then you heither leaves it alone, and takes to
+water like a duck, or you runs up a score."
+
+_Jim._ "Ah! But if there ain't no more coppers, 'ow about the 'buses and
+the hunderground rileway?"
+
+_Bill (profoundly)._ "Ah!"
+
+    [_Left sitting._
+
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Cockney Macbeth (a trifle "fluffy" in his words) bellows
+out:_ "'Ang out our banners on the houtward walls! The cry is--'Let 'em
+_all_ come!'"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Hedwin._ "Hangeleener! Won't yer 'ear me? Wot 'ud yer sy
+if I told yer as I'd 'took the shillin'?"
+
+_Hangelina._ "Sy? Why--'halves'!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Man Cleaning the Horse._ "Naa then lazy, w'y don't yer
+do some work?"
+
+_New Hand (loafing)._ "I'm agoin' to."
+
+_M. C. H._ "Wot are yer goin' ter do?"
+
+_N. H._ "'Elp you."
+
+_M. C. H._ "Come alorng, then."
+
+_N. H._ "All rite. You go orn, I'm agoin' ter do the 'issing."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "BACK TO THE LAND."
+
+_Old Farmer Worsell (who is experimenting with unemployed from London)._
+"Now then, young feller, 'ow long are you goin' to be with that 'ere
+milk?"
+
+_Young Feller._ "I caunt 'elp it, guv'nor. I bin watchin' 'er arf an
+hour, and she ain't laid any yit."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "'Ere, just 'old my broom a minute. I'm just goin' up the
+street. If any of my regular customers comes, just arst 'em to wait a
+bit!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ART IN WHITECHAPEL.
+
+"Well, that's what I calls a himpossible persition to get yerself
+into!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Loafer (looking at a hundred pound dressing-bag)._ "I
+wonder wot sort of a bloke it is as wants a bag of tools like that to
+doss 'isself up with?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "Comin' up to 'Yde Park to 'ave a bave, 'Arry?"
+
+"Yers--an' 'ave all me cloves run orf wiv. Not if _I_ know it!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE COCKNEY'S ADDRESS TO THE SEA.--"With all thy faults I love thee
+_still_."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A COSTERMONGER'S CANT
+
+  Bill Coster said, "See them two fish?
+    Them there's both females, mister;
+  A pilchard she in this here dish:
+    That 'ere's her errin' sister."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS.--(_By a Cockney._) Why should not Dr. Watts'
+poems be read by youth?
+
+Because they contain _Hymn-morality_.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A LINE FROM BROWNING
+
+(_For hairdressers who recommend a wonderful "Restorative," and are
+careless of the aspirate._)
+
+"An everlasting wash of air."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A COCKNEY CON.--When may a man really be supposed to be hungry?
+
+When he goes to Nor-(gnaw)wood for his dinner.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: SO VERY CONSIDERATE.
+
+_Stout Coster._ "Where are ye goin' to, Bill?"
+
+_Bill._ "Inter the country for a nice drive, bein' Bank 'Olidy."
+
+_Stout Coster._ "Same 'ere. I sy! don't yer think we might swop misseses
+just for a few hours? It would be so much kinder to the hanimile!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Arry (whose "Old Dutch" has been shopping, and has kept
+him waiting a considerable time)._ "Wot d'yer mean, keepin' me standin'
+abaat 'ere like a bloomin' fool?"
+
+_'Arriet._ "_I_ can't 'elp the way yer stand, 'Arry."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: VERY DRY WEATHER.
+
+"'Ooray, Bill! 'Ere's luck! I gorr' 'nother tanner! Leshgobackag'in!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: 'EARD ON 'AMPSTEAD 'EATH
+
+----"And talk of our bein' be'ind the French in general edication, why
+all I can say is as it's the commonest thing in Paree, for instance
+(over fust-class restorongs, too, mind yer), to see 'dinner' spelt with
+only one 'N'!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: DIAGNOSIS.
+
+"I can tell you what _you're_ suffering from, my good fellow! You're
+suffering from _acne_!"
+
+"_'Ackney?_ Why, that's just what _t'other_ medical gent he told me! _I
+only wish I'd never been near the place!_"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE CAD'S CALENDAR
+
+  JANUARY.
+
+  January! Tailor's bill comes in.
+  Blow that blooming snip! I'm short o' tin.
+  Werry much enjoyed my Autumn caper,
+  But three quid fifteen do look queer paper.
+  Want another new rig out, wuss luck,
+  Gurl at Boodle's bar seems awful struck,
+  Like to take her to the pantermime;
+  That and oysters after _would_ be prime.
+  Fan's a screamer; this top coat would blue it,
+  Yaller at the seams, black ink won't do it.
+  Wonder if old snip would spring another?
+  Boots, too, rayther seedy; beastly bother!
+  Lots o' larks that empty pockets "queer."
+  Can't do much on fifty quid a year.
+
+  FEBRUARY.
+
+  Febrywary! High old time for sprees!
+  Now's yer chance the gals to please or tease,
+  Dowds to guy and pooty ones to wheedle,
+  And to give all rival chaps the needle.
+  Crab your enemies,--I've got a many,
+  You can pot 'em proper for a penny.
+  My! Them walentines do 'it 'em 'ot.
+  Fust-rate fun; I always buy a lot.
+  Prigs complain they're spiteful,
+      Lor' wot stuff!
+  I can't ever get 'em strong enough.
+  Safe too; no one twigs your little spree,
+  If you do it on the strict Q. T.
+  If you're spoons, a flowery one's your plan.
+  Mem: I sent a proper one to Fan.
+
+  MARCH.
+
+  March! I'm nuts upon a windy day,
+  Gurls do git in such a awful way.
+  Petticoats yer know, and pooty feet;
+  Hair all flying--tell you it's a treat.
+  Pancake day. Don't like 'em--flabby, tough,
+  Rayther do a pennorth o' plum-duff.
+  Seediness shows up as Spring advances,
+  Ah! the gurls do lead us pretty dances.
+  Days a-lengthening.
+      Think I spotted Fan
+  Casting sheep's eyes at another man.
+  Quarter-day, too, no more chance of tick.
+  Fancy I shall 'ave to cut my stick.
+  Got the doldrums dreadful, that is clear.
+  Two _d._ left--must go and do a beer.
+
+
+  APRIL.
+
+  April! All Fools' Day's a proper time.
+  Cop old gurls and guy old buffers prime.
+  Scissors! don't they goggle and look blue
+  When you land them with a regular "do"?
+  Lor! the world would not be worth a mivvey
+  If there warn't no fools to cheek and chivy.
+  Then comes Easter. Got some coin in 'and,
+  Trot a bonnet out and do the grand.
+  Fan all flounce and flower; fellows mad
+  Heye us henvious; nuts to me, my lad.
+  'Ampstead! 'Ampton! Which is it to be?
+  Fan--no flat--prefers the Crystal P.
+  Nobby togs, high jinks, and lots o' lotion,
+  That's the style to go it, I've a notion!
+
+  MAY.
+
+  May! The month o' flowers. Spooney sell!
+  "Rum 'ot with," is wot _I_ likes to smell.
+  Beats yer roses holler. A chice weed
+  Licks all flowers that ever run to seed.
+  Nobby button'oler very well
+  When one wants to do the 'eavy swell;
+  Otherwise don't care not one brass farden,
+  For the best ever blowed in Covent Garden.
+  Fan, though, likes 'em, cost a pretty pile,
+  Rayther stiff, a tanner for a smile.
+  Blued ten bob last time I took 'er out,
+  Left my silver ticker up the spout.
+  Women are sech sharks! If I don't drop 'er.
+  Guess that I shall come a hawful cropper!
+
+  JUNE.
+
+  June! A jolly month; sech stunning weather.
+  Fan and I have lots of outs together:
+  Rorty on the river, sech prime 'unts,
+  Foul the racers, run into the punts.
+  Prime to 'ear the anglers rave and cuss,
+  When in quiet "swims" we raise a muss.
+  Snack on someone's lawn upon the quiet.
+  Won't the owner raise a tidy riot
+  When he twigs our scraps and broken bottles?
+  Cheaper this than rustyrongs or hottles,
+  Whitsuntide 'ud be a lot more gay
+  If it warn't so near to quarter-day.
+  Snip turns sour, pulls "county-courting" faces.
+  Must try and land a little on the races.
+
+  JULY.
+
+  'Ot July! Just nicked a handy fiver
+  (Twenty-five to one on old "Screw-driver"!)
+  New rig-out. This mustard colour mixture
+  Suits me nobby. Fan appears a fixture.
+  Gurls like style, you know, and colour ketches 'em,
+  But good show of ochre,--_that's_ what fetches 'em,
+  Wimbledon! _I'm_ not a Wolunteer.
+  Discipline don't suit this child--no fear!
+  But we 'ave fine capers at the camp,
+  Proper, but for that confounded scamp:
+  Punched my 'ead because I guyed his shooting.
+  Fan I fancied rather 'ighfaluting;
+  Ogled the big beggar as he propped me.
+  Would 'a licked 'im if _she_ 'adn't stopped me.
+
+  AUGUST.
+
+  August! Time to think about my outing.
+  No dibs yet, though, so it's no use shouting.
+  Make the best of the Bank 'Oliday.
+  Fan "engaged"! Don't look too bloomin' gay,
+  Drop into the bar to do a beer,
+  Twig her talking to that Volunteer.
+  Sling my 'ook instanter sharp and short,
+  Took Jemimer down to 'Ampton Court.
+  Not 'arf bad, that gurl. Got rather screwed,
+  Little toff complained as I was rude.
+  'It 'im in the wind, he went like death;
+  Weak, consumptive cove and short o' breath.
+  Licked 'im proper, dropped 'im like a shot,--
+  Only wish that Fan had seen _that_ lot.
+
+  SEPTEMBER.
+
+  'Ere's September! 'Oliday at last!
+  Off to Margit--mean to go it fast.
+  Mustard-coloured togs still fresh as paint,
+  Like to know who's natty, if _I_ ain't.
+  Got three quid; have cried a go with Fan,
+  Game to spend my money like a man.
+  But sticking tight to one gal ain't no fun--
+  Here's no end of prime 'uns on the run;
+  Carn't resist me somehow, togs and tile
+  All A 1--make even swell ones smile.
+  Lor! if I'd the ochre, make no doubt
+  I could cut no end of big pots out.
+  Call me cad? When money's in the game,
+  Cad and swell are pooty much the same.
+
+  OCTOBER.
+
+  Now October! Back again to collar,
+  Funds run low, reduced to last 'arf-dollar.
+  Snip on rampage, boots a getting thin,
+  'Ave to try the turf to raise some tin.
+  Evenings getting gloomy; high old games;
+  Music 'alls! Look up the taking names.
+  Proper swells them pros.! If I'd my choice,
+  There's my mark. Just wish I'd got a voice;
+  Cut the old den to-morrow, lots of cham.,
+  Cabs and diamonds,--ain't that real jam?
+  Got the straight tip for the Siezerwitch,
+  If I _honly_ land it, I'll be rich.
+  Guess next mornin' wouldn't find me sober--
+  Allays get the blues about October.
+
+  NOVEMBER.
+
+  Dull November! Didn't land that lot.
+  Fear my father's son is going to pot.
+  Fan jest passed me, turned away 'er eyes,
+  Guess she ranked me with the _other_ guys,
+  Nobby larks upon the ninth, my joker;
+  But it queers a chap to want the ochre.
+  Nothing like a crowd for regular sprees,
+  Ain't it fine to do a rush, and squeeze?
+  Twig the women fainting! Oh, it's proper!
+  Bonnet buffers when the blooming copper
+  Can't get near yer nohow. Then the fogs!
+  Rare old time for regular jolly dogs.
+  If a chap's a genuine 'ot member,
+  He _can_ keep the game up in November!
+
+  DECEMBER.
+
+  Dun December! Dismal, dingy, dirty.
+  Still short commons--makes a chap feel shirty.
+  Snip rampageous, drops a regular summons.
+  Fan gets married; ah! them gurls is rum 'uns!
+  After all the coin I squandered on 'er!
+  Want it now. A 'eap too bad, 'pon honour,
+  Snow! Ah, that's yer sort, though, and no error.
+  Treat to twig the women scud in terror.
+  Hot 'un in the eye for that old feller;
+  Cold 'un down 'is neck, bust his umbreller.
+  Ha! ha! Then Christmas,--'ave a jolly feast!
+  The boss will drop a tip,--hope so, at least.
+  If I don't land some tin, my look-out's queer.
+  Well, let's drink, boys--"Better luck next year!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: STUDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE.
+
+The chick-a-leary cochin.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Swell (who won't be done)._ "H 'yars my kyard if
+you'd--ah--like to summon me."
+
+_Cabby (who has pulled up and heard the dispute)._ "Don't you take it,
+Bill. It's his ticket o' leave!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A LABOUR OF LOVE!
+
+_Benevolent Lady (who has with infinite trouble organised a country
+excursion for some over-worked London dressmakers)._ "Then mind you're
+at the station at nine to-morrow, Eliza. I do hope it won't rain!"
+
+"_Rine_, miss! I 'owp not, to be sure! The country's bad enough when
+it's _foine_, yn't it, miss?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ON EPSOM DOWNS
+
+"Get onto 'is neck, like me, Halfred, an' they'll take us for jockeys!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Little Tompkins._ "That fellow Brown tried to stuff me
+up with some of his travellers' tales the other day. Talked about his
+trip to Italy, and the waving fields of macaroni, but he didn't catch
+me, you know. They _don't_ wave!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: GUILE.
+
+_Old Lady._ "You know the 'Royal Oak'? Well, you turn to the right, past
+the 'Jolly Gardener,' till you come to the 'Red Lion'----"
+
+_Artful Cabby._ "O, don't tell me the 'ouses, mum! Name some o' the
+churches, and then I shall know where I am!!"
+
+    [_Asks, and gets, an exorbitant fare without a murmur._
+
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+RUS IN URBE
+
+(_A Cockney Rhapsody_)
+
+  As I stroll through Piccadilly,
+  Scent of blossoms borne from Scilly
+  Greet me. Jonquil, rose, and lily,
+  Violet and daffydowndilly.
+  Oh, the feeling sweet and thrilly
+  That these blossoms flounced and frilly
+  From soft plains and headlands hilly
+  Bring my breast in Piccadilly!
+  It subdues me, willy nilly,
+  Though such sentiment seems silly,
+  And a bunch, dear, buys your Willy,
+  To dispatch, by post, to Milly,
+  Dwelling, far from Piccadilly,
+  In moist lowlands, rushed and rilly,
+  Blossomy as Penzance or Scilly.
+  Sweets to the sweet! "Poor Silly-Billy!"
+  You may say in accents trilly.
+  When the postman in the stilly
+  Eve, from distant Piccadilly,
+  Bears this box of rose and lily,
+  Violet and daffodilly,
+  To the rural maiden, Milly,
+  From her urban lover,
+                           Willy.
+
+  P.S.--
+
+      Dry as toke and skilly,
+  Is this arid Piccadilly,
+  Notwithstanding rose and lily,
+  All the beauteous blooms of Scilly,
+  Reft of that flower of flowers--Milly.
+  So, at least, thinks
+                      "Silly Billy."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A COCKNEY'S EXCLAMATION UPON SEEING THE CELEBRATED HEIDELBERG
+TON.--"Well, it is (s)ton-ning!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: NATURAL HISTORY NOTES
+
+_Country Cousin._ "Lor, Bill, ain't that a horstrich?"
+
+_Bill._ "_Horstrich?_ 'Corse not. That 'ere's a _mongoose_!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SHAKESPEARE ON BLACKHEATH
+
+  I saw young 'Arry with his billycock on,
+  Checked trousers on his thighs, with knob stick armed,
+  Climb from the ground like fat pig up a pole,
+  And flop with such sore toil into his saddle,
+  As though a bran-bag dropped down from the clouds,
+  To turn and wind a slow "Jerusalem,"
+  And shock the world with clumsy assmanship.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY'S LATEST CONUNDRUM.--Why is a title-page like charity?--Becos it
+always begins a tome. (Begins at 'ome, don'tcher see!)
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Cockney Friend._ "Good 'evins! there's a pheasant!"
+
+_Country Friend._ "Well, what of it?"
+
+_Cockney._ "Why, it ain't the fust of Hoctober?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Lady Visitor (at work-girls' club, giving some advice on
+manners)._ "And you know ladies never speak to gentlemen without an
+introduction."
+
+_'Liza._ "We knows yer don't, miss, an' we offen pities yer!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: AN IDYLL
+
+_Hemma._ "Oh, 'Arry, hain't this 'eavenly! You'll promise to give me 'am
+sandwiches always, when we're married, won't yer?"
+
+_'Arry._ "'Corse I will!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First Workman._ "Why don't yer buy yer _own_ matches,
+'stead of always cadgin' mine?"
+
+_Second Workman._ "You're uncommon mean with yer matches. I'll just take
+a few"--(_helps himself to two-thirds_)--"and be hinderpendent of yer!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ERRAND BOYS
+
+_First Boy._ "Where are yer goin' to, Bill?"
+
+_Second Boy._ "I've got to go right over 'Ammersmith Bridge to Barnes,
+then I'se got to go to Putney and back by Fulham Road, then to 'Igh
+Street, Kensington."
+
+_First Boy._ "Why, I've got to go to 'Igh Street. You go on. I'm in a
+bit of a hurry, but _I'll wait for yer_!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MOST MUSICAL, MOST MELANCHOLY.--A Cockney gentleman who had been hearing
+a concert of old music, where every piece that was performed was in the
+programme termed an "op.," observed, as he went out, "Well, after all
+these 'ops, I vote we have some malt."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEYISM IN THE COUNTRY.--_1st Cockney._ I say, what sort of a 'ouse
+will do for a fowl-'ouse?
+
+_2nd Cockney._ Lor' bless yer, _hen_-ny 'ouse.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CONUNDRUM FOR COCKNEYS.--Which has the greater amount of animal heat,
+the beaver or the otter? Why, of course, the _otter_ of the two.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SONG OF THE COCKNEY SPORTSMAN
+
+  How happy could I be in heather,
+    At the grouse gaily blazing away!
+  But then, somehow, I can't touch a feather,
+    So 'tis better at Brighton to stay.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+PRO BONO.--There is one first-rate joint that comes to table which is
+the Cockney's prime aversion--the h-bone.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A MODEL MODEL.
+
+(_The artist is rather shy, and has left his model to do the honours of
+his studio._) "From whom did Mr. M'Gilp paint that head?"
+
+"From yours obediently, madam. I sit for the 'eads of all 'is 'oly men."
+
+"He must find you a very useful person."
+
+"Yes, madam. I order his frames, stretch his canvases, wash his brushes,
+set his palette, and mix his colours. All _he's_ got to do is just to
+_shove 'em on!_"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Tripper._ "'Ere! 'Arf a mo'! Where's the change out o'
+that bob I gave yer?"
+
+_Bystander._ "Don't worry about it, cocky; ain't you got the bloomin'
+'oss as security!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Holiday Driver (returning from a pic-nic)._ "Excuse me,
+sir, but can you see anything wrong with the 'arness of this 'ere
+'orse?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SPORTSMEN AT SEA.
+
+_(Tom exhibiting a tern which he has shot)._ I say, 'Arry, wot bird 's
+this 'ere?
+
+_'Arry._ A auk, I should say.
+
+_Tom._ What yer calls a sparrerawk?
+
+_'Arry._ No. Hay, u, k, auk, without the sparrer.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A COCKNEY'S EPITAPH
+
+  THINK! "From the cradle to the grave!" my brother,
+  A nurse takes you from one, an 'earse to t'other.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A VULGAR ERROR.--Misplacing the haspirate.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A CHEVALIERESQUE CONUNDRUM.--_Coster Bill (to 'Arriet)._ I si! When is
+your young man like a fish out of water?
+
+_'Arriet._ Oh, g'long! Give't up.
+
+_Coster Bill._ Why, when 'es a _witin'_ round the corner.
+
+    [Short encounter, and exeunt severally.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A CAPITAL ANSWER.
+
+_"Self-made" Man (examining school, of which he is a manager)._ "Now,
+boy, what's the capital of 'Olland?"
+
+_Boy._ "An 'H,' sir."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+DISCOVERED IN DRURY LANE
+
+(_Near the new Baker Street Lodging House established by the County
+Council._)
+
+  I 'old it true wote'er befall,
+    I feel it when things go most cross,
+    Better do a fi'penny doss,
+  Than never do a doss at all!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+UNIVERSITY SYMPATHY.
+
+_First Errand Boy (after the University Boat Race)._ Wot 'ave yer got a
+light blue ribbon in yer button 'ole for, Tommy?
+
+_Second E. B. (promptly)._ 'Cos our 'ouse allus sells Cambridge
+sausages!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A MATTER OF TASTE.
+
+_Vulgar Parvenu (who is watching the interior decorations of his
+house)._ "Don't you think that tapestry 'eats the rooms?"
+
+_Artistic Decorator._ "Very possibly, sir; you see, it's Goblin
+(_Gobelin_)."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE IRREPRESSIBLE.
+
+_Street Boy (to cabby, in a block)._ "Look 'ere, are you a goin' on wi'
+this four wheeler?--'r else me an' my friend'll get down an' walk!"
+
+    [_Retires hastily._
+
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AUDACIOUS 'ARRYISM.--Our friend 'Arry objects to the title of a recently
+published novel, "Airy Fairy Lilian." He says that he can't imagine a
+fairy all over 'air, though he might an 'obgoblin.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE BAGMAN'S BAG
+
+  Hark how the cockney sportsman drops
+    His aitches o'er the glades and glens,
+  But, at hen pheasents though he pops,
+    Your 'Arry never drops his n's.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A PAIR OF "NIPPERS."--A coster's twins.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEY CLASSICS.
+
+"Jack," said Robins, "which varsity would you rayther go to, Hoxford or
+'Idleberg?"
+
+"Hoxford, Jemmy, to be sure, you muff," answered Robbins. "'Cos vy, I
+prefers hindustry to hidleness."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A BANK HOLIDAY REMINISCENCE.
+
+_'Arry._ "Ow much an hour, guv'nor?"
+
+_Horsekeeper._ "Eighteenpence."
+
+_'Arry._ "All right. I'll have a ride."
+
+_Horsekeeper._ "Well, you've got to leave 'arf a crown on the 'orse?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: POOR LETTER "H"
+
+"Have you got any _whole_ strawberry jam?"
+
+"No, miss. All ours is quite new!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: SONGS OF THE SUMMER
+
+"The weather seems to be improving, Nupkins!"
+
+"Yes, miss; the nightingale and the cuckoo is a-'ollerin', every
+night!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY ON 'ORSEBACK
+
+  Our 'Arry goes 'unting and sings with a will,
+  "The 'orn of the 'unter is 'eard on the 'ill";
+  And oft, when a saddle looks terribly bare,
+  The 'eels of our 'Arry are seen in the air!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEY EPITAPH FOR A COOK.--"Peace to his hashes."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"A Horse," observed a Scotch vet., "may have a very good appetite, and
+yet be unable to eat a bit."
+
+"Ah," said 'Arry, "there's the difference between a 'oss and a ostridge,
+which could eat bit, snaffle, curb and all."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LE SPORT.
+
+A Cockney sportsman, wishing to introduce hare-hunting into France, is
+seriously meditating a work on the subject, to be entitled,
+_Arriere-pensees_; _or, Thoughts on Keeping 'Ariers_. His _nom de plume_
+will be _Le petit Jean du_ Jockey Club.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Arriet (as a bee alights on her hand)._
+"My word, 'Arry, wot a pretty fly!"
+
+(_Sting._)
+
+"Crikey! ain't 'is feet 'ot!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "'Ullo, Jim, look 'ere! 'Ere's a noo stachoo! Lend us yer
+knife!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Jinks._ "I want to buy a dog. I don't know what they
+call the breed, but it is something the shape of a greyhound, with a
+short curly tail and rough hair. Do you keep dogs like that?"
+
+_Fancier._ "No. I drowns 'em!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEY PHILOSOPHY.
+
+The Socratic mode of argument is the only true mode of chopping logic,
+because it proceeds altogether on the principle of axing questions.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY PUTS 'EM RIGHT.
+
+The _Daily Chronicle_--recently suggested that the plural of rhinoceros
+is a disputed point. 'Arry writes: "What O, _Mr. P._, 'disputed'?--not a
+bit. Any kiddy as 'as 'ad 'arf an eddication knows what the plural of
+''oss' is, don't he? No matter as to its bein' spelt ''os' or ''oss.'
+Plural, anyway ''osses.' 'Bus-'os'--'Bus-'osses.'
+'Rhinocer-os'--'Rhinocer-osses.' That's as plain as an 'aystack, ain't
+it?"
+
+    "Yours,
+
+          "'ARRY."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+DEFINITION FOR A DINER-OUT.--An unlicensed wittler, quoth our worthy
+'ost.--'ARRY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: FERVOUR IN THE FOG
+
+_Unpromising Individual (suddenly--his voice vibrating with passion)._
+
+  "She's moy unney;
+  Oim 'er joy!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed, enthusiastically, a hairdresser's assistant who had
+been out for a holiday. "'Ind 'Ead, in Surrey! That's the place for
+hair!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE REAL LONDON PRIDE.--We know an inveterate Cockney who declares that
+London milk beats the country milk, and beats it "_by many chalks_."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+GOOD PAPER FOR DEAF COCKNEYS.--_The 'Earer._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE MUSICAL COSTER CRAZE.--_Customer._ Have you a copy of Costa's _Eli_?
+
+_Shopman._ No, sir; we have none of Chevalier's songs.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "I say, 'Arry, don't we look frights!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "I say, Bill, oo was this 'ere Nelson as everybody wos a
+talkin' about?" "Why, 'e was the chap as turned the French out of
+Trafalgar Square!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "Bill, can you lend me twopence?"
+
+"Wot a silly question to arst! Why, if I 'ad twopence, wot 'ud I be
+doin' standin' outside a public 'ouse?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A SONG OF SPRING
+
+_By a Cockney Poet._
+
+  All hail, thou jocund time of year,
+  To Cockneys and cock-robins dear!
+  All hail, thou flowery, showery season,
+  When throstles, mating, perch the trees on:
+  When sparrows on the house-tops sit,
+  And court their loves with cheery twit:
+  While opera songsters tune their throats,
+  Exchanging for our gold their notes!
+  Now Nature her new dress receives,
+  And dinner-tables spread their leaves;
+  Asparagus again one sees,
+  And early ducklings, served with peas;
+  Again the crisp whitebait we crunch,
+  And chops of lambkin blithely munch;
+  Salmon again our shops afford,
+  And plovers' eggs adorn the board;
+  While for one day at least our sons
+  May stuff themselves with hot cross buns!
+    See now the swells begin to show
+  Their horsemanship in Rotten Row:
+  See now the Drive is thronged once more,
+  And idlers lounge there as of yore:
+  See now fair April fills Mayfair,
+  And gives new life to Grosvenor Square.
+  See now what crowds flock to the Zoo,
+  Where Master Hippo is on view
+  See daffodils, and daisies pied
+  In bloom, and buttercups beside:
+  See now the thorn, and e'en the rose
+  Signs of returning Spring disclose:
+  See now the lilac large in bud;
+  While costermongers, splashed with mud,
+  The product of the passing showers,
+  Cry, "Here's yer all a blowing flowers!"
+  Or wake the echoes of the groves[A]
+  With "Hornaments for yer fire-stoves!"
+
+[Footnote A: Westbourne Grove, Lisson Grove, Camden Grove, &c.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _'Appy 'Arry_--
+
+  "With my new panama-a-ar
+  And tupp'ny ciga-a-ar."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ENCOURAGING, VERY!
+
+_Cockney Art-Teacher (newly arrived and nervous--after a long silence)._
+"If you _should_ see a chance o' drorin' any thing correctly--DO SO!!"
+
+    [_Collapse of expectant student._
+
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: STANDING NO NONSENSE.
+
+_'Arry._ "Phew!"--(_the weather was warm, and they had walked over from
+'Ammersmith_)--"bring us a bottle o'champagne, waiter."
+
+_Waiter._ "Yessir--dry, sir?"
+
+_'Arry (aughtily, to put a stop to this familiarity at once)._ "Never
+you mind whether we're dry or whether we ain't!--bring the wine!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: SHEREDITY.
+
+_Lady._ "You don't mean to tell me that this little girl is fit to wait
+at table!"
+
+_Mother (proudly)._ "Well 'm, she _ought_ to be, seein' as 'ow 'er
+father 'as been a _plate layer_ for five-and-twenty year!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Lady (referring to programme, to friend)._ "'Schumann,
+op. 2.' What's the meaning of 'op. 2'?"
+
+_'Arry (who thinks he is being addressed, and always ready to oblige
+with information)._ "Oh, op. 2. Second dance; second 'op, yer know. May
+I 'ave the pleasure?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE SALE OF INTOXICANTS TO CHILDREN BILL.
+
+"It's another hinjustice to hus pore wimmen, it is! They won't let us
+send the kids for it now, an' if my heldest boy goes for it 'e 'as 'arf
+of it 'isself, 'an' if my old man goes 'e never comes back! so the hend
+of it is, I 'ave to go for it myself!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: DISCOURAGING.
+
+_Nervous Philanthropist (on a slumming excursion)._ "Can you tell me if
+this is Little Erebus Street, my man?"
+
+_Suspicious-looking Party._ "Yus."
+
+_Nervous P._ "Er--rather a rough sort of thoroughfare, isn't it?"
+
+_Suspicious-looking P._ "Yus; it is a bit thick. The further yer gows
+daown, the thicker it gits. I lives in the last 'aouse."
+
+    [_Exit philanthropist hurriedly in the opposite direction._
+
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE FESTIVE SEASON.
+
+_First Burglar._ "'Ere's a go, mate! This 'ere bit o' turkey, knuckile
+hend of an 'am, arf a sossidge, and the 'olly off the plum-puddin'!
+Might as well 'ave looked in on a bloomin' vegetarian!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Temperance Orator._ "Ho, pause, my dear friends, pause!"
+_A Voice._ "Ye're right, ole man, _they are_!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COCKNEY HOBSERVATION.
+
+Cockneys are not the only people who drop or exasperate the "h's." It is
+done by common people in the provinces, and you may laugh at them for
+it. The deduction therefore is, that a peasant, with an "h," is fair
+game.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NEW COCKNEY SAINT.--Mrs. Malaprop declares that if she lives to be a
+hundred--and all her family detain a venerated age--she will certainly
+have a Saint 'Enery.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+RIDDLE BY 'ARRY.--"Look 'ere, if you're speakin' of a young unmarried
+lady bein' rather 'uffy, what well-known river would you name?--Why,
+'_Miss is 'ippy_,' o' course."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: EASTER MONDAY
+
+_'Arry._ "Do you pass any pubs on the way to Broadstairs, cabby?"
+
+_Cabby._ "Yes. Lots."
+
+_'Arry._ "Well, _don't!_"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "I beg your pardon, ma'am, but I think you dropped
+this?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE END
+
+BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS, LONDON AND TONBRIDGE.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour, by Various
+
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