THE BEAK AND THE SCIIOOL-BOARD.
Dear Mb. Punch,
What is all this bother atween the Ammersmith Beak and the School Board? The Ammersmith Beak is the cove aa doesnt like ISysykels or School Boards. Ho thinks they both go too fast, and ho aint far wrong, 1 thinks with Mr. Paget, that its igh time Bysykels _ should ho put down by Hact o Parlyment. For dont yer see Mr. Punch if they was put down many a fast young (rent as now ridos his bysikol would ride in my Ansom. But there never will he no justice done to us cabbies till we pets into Parlyment. The coliers send chaps to Parlyment, and wy not the cabbies? Sure I am one could teaoh manners to some of the gents there if wo could teach nothink ellus. That you know Mr. Punch as well as me.
But to mime back to tho Ammersmith Beak and the School Board. I just want you to tell me what its all about. A boy twix thirteen and fourteen is brought afore tho Beak cos he dont go to school. The School Board axes the Beak to lino his Guvnor: tho Beak says heel bo blowed if he do, for tho boy is over thirteen and can snapp his fingers at tho School Board. Leestways, says tho School Board, the boy snooldnt work, and they says they have a hact o Parlyment to pervent him. The Beak says ho dont care a hang for their hact o Parlyment wich tho School Board dont understan, arid instid of fining tho Guvnor of tho boy, ho fin os tho School Board man, which serves him jolly
well rite. What a cabby Mr. Paget would have made if he hadnt been a Beak: not to bn druv round, no not at any prise.
And tho School Board man runs owling away to tho Omk SeceetAIBY and arkses him for protekshun agin tho Beak wot as bullied him and snubbed him and fined him. And ho gets tho Omk Secbetaibv to rite a letter to the Beak, very sivcl like, for tho Omk Secbetaiby dont like poor foaks to be find and sold up and sent, to prisin oos their kids dont chatter French like a lot o munltis of a Sunday arternoon in the Zoo. And tho Beak writes back to tho Omk Secbetaiby and tells him why ho find the School Board man, and thats
all I nose about it.
But Mr. Punch I does want to no sumthinlc more. Ivo a kid o my
hone wot is jist over thirteen. You list toll me Mr. Punch wot Im to do with him ? School Board says he
shant go to work: Beak says he shant go to school. Must he go on the streets and lurn to bo a thief ? Well hes a sharp lad and ho can lurn farst enuf for hes a very fair scoller, and havin nothink to do he may read in the Sunday papers that the burglers biznis is about the best goin, and hact accordionly. All Ive got to say Mr.
Punch is that Im thankfull to say I was born afore the days o School Boards, for if Ide been on the streets
atwixt thirteen and fourteen instead of irnin an nonist penny, I mighter crorssed. the Errin Pond years and vears ago or may bo made my bow some fine mornin at Newgit instid of drivn my Ansom and tho I says it the best oss in Ammersmith.
So no more at pressunt.
Your Bedint Survint,
Cadby.
HUMANITY HUNTING-SONG.
“Opening Meet of the Windsor Garrison Drag- IIounds.—Oil Saturday, in miserably wet weather, this pack of drag-hounds commenced their hunting season. . . . The hounds will be hunted twice a week (every Wednesday and Saturday) during the season.”—Morning Paper.
We ’re going to have a glorious run,
This murk and mizzling morn. Our Hunt inferior is to none,
Except not even the Q,uorn.
A substitute will, scent as strong
As Reynard’s own, supply.
Excuse the burden of my song; This day a Drag must die.!
Chorus—
With a hey, ho. chivy;
Hark forward, hark forward, tantivy 1 Excuse the burden of my song; This day a Drag must die 1
Because although a herring red
May, like a fox, be tracked, The Drag is absolutely dead
In point of literal fact.
Yet hounds and horses after go,
With huntsmen’s horns, and cry
Of “ Yoicks! ” and shout of “ Tallyho 1 ” This day a Drag must die 1
Chorus—With a hoy, ho, &c. A Drag’s as good to ride behind
As ever a fox’s tail,
Well drawn about, with turn and wind, O’er many a hill and dale.
Fence, hedgerow, palings, turnpike gate,
The rider’s pluck will try,
As much as though ’twero true to state, This day a Drag must die !
Chorus—With a hey, ho, &c. Each man as much risks life or limb
As when a fox is slain;
The sport is all the same to him,
And we give no animal pain.
Humane excitement whilst we seek,
No victim in our eye ;
Except, as now, when, so to speak, This day a Drag must die 1
Chorus—With a hey, ho, &c.
Note.—William Corbett, in ono of Ids charming works, tells a delightful story of tho revenge he, when a young clod
hopper, onco took of a huntsman who had fetched him a cut of his whip; in repayment for which injury Coiiiistt went and
trailed a red herring over tho hunting-ground, and then, mounted on a hill-top commanding a viow all round, stood enjoying the satisfaction of seeing tho hounds thrown off tho scent, and tho fox-hunt turned into a drag-hunt, to his enemy’s vexation.
BRIC-A-BRAC AT KNOW8LEY.
Mr. Gladstone is a great collector. He has lately got hold of a fine specimen of Real Derby, which he intends to place in bis Cabinet.
TOO CONSCIENTIOUS BY HALF.
Mamma. “Really, dear John, I can’t make you out! Your own Son, only Twelve, just caught in me very act ok smoking a Cigarktte ; and yet you, who think Smoking such an abomination, take it quietly!
Papa. “Well, my Love, it’s rather awkward, you see. I was caught IN THE ACT WHEN I WAS ONLY Ten!—AND, BY JOVE, IT WAS A ClGAR ! ”
[Lei us hope dear John will warm the Youngster to-rights, all the same.
Dear Mb. Punch,
What is all this bother atween the Ammersmith Beak and the School Board? The Ammersmith Beak is the cove aa doesnt like ISysykels or School Boards. Ho thinks they both go too fast, and ho aint far wrong, 1 thinks with Mr. Paget, that its igh time Bysykels _ should ho put down by Hact o Parlyment. For dont yer see Mr. Punch if they was put down many a fast young (rent as now ridos his bysikol would ride in my Ansom. But there never will he no justice done to us cabbies till we pets into Parlyment. The coliers send chaps to Parlyment, and wy not the cabbies? Sure I am one could teaoh manners to some of the gents there if wo could teach nothink ellus. That you know Mr. Punch as well as me.
But to mime back to tho Ammersmith Beak and the School Board. I just want you to tell me what its all about. A boy twix thirteen and fourteen is brought afore tho Beak cos he dont go to school. The School Board axes the Beak to lino his Guvnor: tho Beak says heel bo blowed if he do, for tho boy is over thirteen and can snapp his fingers at tho School Board. Leestways, says tho School Board, the boy snooldnt work, and they says they have a hact o Parlyment to pervent him. The Beak says ho dont care a hang for their hact o Parlyment wich tho School Board dont understan, arid instid of fining tho Guvnor of tho boy, ho fin os tho School Board man, which serves him jolly
well rite. What a cabby Mr. Paget would have made if he hadnt been a Beak: not to bn druv round, no not at any prise.
And tho School Board man runs owling away to tho Omk SeceetAIBY and arkses him for protekshun agin tho Beak wot as bullied him and snubbed him and fined him. And ho gets tho Omk Secbetaibv to rite a letter to the Beak, very sivcl like, for tho Omk Secbetaiby dont like poor foaks to be find and sold up and sent, to prisin oos their kids dont chatter French like a lot o munltis of a Sunday arternoon in the Zoo. And tho Beak writes back to tho Omk Secbetaiby and tells him why ho find the School Board man, and thats
all I nose about it.
But Mr. Punch I does want to no sumthinlc more. Ivo a kid o my
hone wot is jist over thirteen. You list toll me Mr. Punch wot Im to do with him ? School Board says he
shant go to work: Beak says he shant go to school. Must he go on the streets and lurn to bo a thief ? Well hes a sharp lad and ho can lurn farst enuf for hes a very fair scoller, and havin nothink to do he may read in the Sunday papers that the burglers biznis is about the best goin, and hact accordionly. All Ive got to say Mr.
Punch is that Im thankfull to say I was born afore the days o School Boards, for if Ide been on the streets
atwixt thirteen and fourteen instead of irnin an nonist penny, I mighter crorssed. the Errin Pond years and vears ago or may bo made my bow some fine mornin at Newgit instid of drivn my Ansom and tho I says it the best oss in Ammersmith.
So no more at pressunt.
Your Bedint Survint,
Cadby.
HUMANITY HUNTING-SONG.
“Opening Meet of the Windsor Garrison Drag- IIounds.—Oil Saturday, in miserably wet weather, this pack of drag-hounds commenced their hunting season. . . . The hounds will be hunted twice a week (every Wednesday and Saturday) during the season.”—Morning Paper.
We ’re going to have a glorious run,
This murk and mizzling morn. Our Hunt inferior is to none,
Except not even the Q,uorn.
A substitute will, scent as strong
As Reynard’s own, supply.
Excuse the burden of my song; This day a Drag must die.!
Chorus—
With a hey, ho. chivy;
Hark forward, hark forward, tantivy 1 Excuse the burden of my song; This day a Drag must die 1
Because although a herring red
May, like a fox, be tracked, The Drag is absolutely dead
In point of literal fact.
Yet hounds and horses after go,
With huntsmen’s horns, and cry
Of “ Yoicks! ” and shout of “ Tallyho 1 ” This day a Drag must die 1
Chorus—With a hoy, ho, &c. A Drag’s as good to ride behind
As ever a fox’s tail,
Well drawn about, with turn and wind, O’er many a hill and dale.
Fence, hedgerow, palings, turnpike gate,
The rider’s pluck will try,
As much as though ’twero true to state, This day a Drag must die !
Chorus—With a hey, ho, &c. Each man as much risks life or limb
As when a fox is slain;
The sport is all the same to him,
And we give no animal pain.
Humane excitement whilst we seek,
No victim in our eye ;
Except, as now, when, so to speak, This day a Drag must die 1
Chorus—With a hey, ho, &c.
Note.—William Corbett, in ono of Ids charming works, tells a delightful story of tho revenge he, when a young clod
hopper, onco took of a huntsman who had fetched him a cut of his whip; in repayment for which injury Coiiiistt went and
trailed a red herring over tho hunting-ground, and then, mounted on a hill-top commanding a viow all round, stood enjoying the satisfaction of seeing tho hounds thrown off tho scent, and tho fox-hunt turned into a drag-hunt, to his enemy’s vexation.
BRIC-A-BRAC AT KNOW8LEY.
Mr. Gladstone is a great collector. He has lately got hold of a fine specimen of Real Derby, which he intends to place in bis Cabinet.
TOO CONSCIENTIOUS BY HALF.
Mamma. “Really, dear John, I can’t make you out! Your own Son, only Twelve, just caught in me very act ok smoking a Cigarktte ; and yet you, who think Smoking such an abomination, take it quietly!
Papa. “Well, my Love, it’s rather awkward, you see. I was caught IN THE ACT WHEN I WAS ONLY Ten!—AND, BY JOVE, IT WAS A ClGAR ! ”
[Lei us hope dear John will warm the Youngster to-rights, all the same.