Page:Punch Vol CXXII.djvu/195

MARCH 12, 1902.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. ISi

I hope, on some future occasion, to point out how easy it is for the student to be called to the outer Bar, to secure the patents of a King's Counsel, and to ascend the Bench, and ultimately become Lord Chancellor. But on the present occasion I have occupied the valuable space placed at my disposal by introductory remarks. I will content myself by answering one of the many questions put to me by stating that I have never allowed myself to become Lord Chancellor because I conscientiously object to mixing up law with politics.

(Signed) A. Briefless, Junior.

Pump Handle Court.

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WHAT TOMMY OVERHEARD.

Mrs. Jinks. "That's Signor Scrapeski just passed. He plays the violin like an angel."

Tommy. "Mummy, dear, do the angels say 'Dam' when a string breaks?"

THE SONG OF A FIRESIDE
RANGER.

I've donned a cloak and leathern hose
And a feathered hat of felt,
A rapier keen at my side is seen,
And I've pistols in my belt;
I am ready for either open war
Or the sudden veiled attack;
And I laugh at the frowns of sullen clowns
Who menace behind my back.
For I'm off to the land of stern romance
Where arrogant heroes ride,
With Weyman, Weyman, Stanley Weyman,
Weyman at my side.

I've donned a "frock" and a "chimney- pot,"
And gloves of faultless fit,
For I seek the haunts where fashion flaunts
And airs its grace and wit.
The fickle fair who dally there
With swains of high degree
But ope their lips and out there slips
A sparkling repartee.
Then it's oh! for the glittering, gladsome world
As we hail a passing fly,
Just Hawkins, Hawkins, Anthony Hawkins,
Anthony Hope and I.

I've donned "me Sabbath suit o' blacks"
And a plaid of sober hue,
That I may confer with the "Meenister,"
And the "Auld Licht" elders too.
I've learnt the sense of "ben" and "but,"
And have also learnt to love
Brave-hearted Jess, whose tenderness
Was born of Heaven above.
And it's oh! for the welcome lights of Thrums,
Where tears and laughter blend,
With Barrie, Barrie, J. M. Barrie,
Barrie for guide and friend.

I've donned a Norfolk suit of grey,
And a canvas helmet too,
For I'm off to a land of burning sand
With Captain Good and crew.
We have chosen a long-named Zulu chief
To share our joys and woes,
And there isn't a tongue the tribes among
But one of the party knows.
Then it's hey! for the subterranean stream
And the queen of a thousand years,
With Haggard, Haggard, Rider Haggard,
To raise and quell our fears.

I've donned a somewhat motley garb
From cupboard, drawer, and shelf,
Wherever stored—for I'm off on board
Of the Ship that Found Herself.
I mean to land on India's strand,
And the sights of Simla see;
To crack a joke with the jungle folk,
To carouse with Soldiers Three.
So it's oh! for a cruise with vivid views
Of a bright Imperial realm,
With Kipling, Kipling, Rudyard Kipling,
Kipling at the helm.

I've donned my "slacks" and a sailor cap,
And a rare old pilot coat,
And early o'clock I'm off to a dock
Where Many Cargoes float.
My heart grows light at the welcome sight
Of the skipper's discontent
As off we steer in an atmosphere
Of ambiguous compliment.
Then it's oh! for the cook and the cabin-boy,
As away from the wharf we steal,
With Jacobs, Jacobs, jocular Jacobs,
Jacobs at the wheel.

Again the garb of a gentleman,
For I go to join the throng
Of heroes fair and debonair,
Or silent, brave and strong.
Be it Afric's coast, or France, or Spain,
Or Russia's waste of snow,
With never a fear of a journey drear,
I gird myself and go.
Then it's oh! for the womanly, high-souled girl,
And the rogue who is underhand,
With Merriman, Merriman, H. S. Merriman,
Merriman in command.