The man who would back any other Appears but a gander to be, For the horse that all comers will smother Is certainly _Tanderagee_!
"I SAY, GUV'NER! WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO BE TOOK DOWN FOR HALTERATIONS AND REPAIRS?"]
Ever against my breast, Safe in my pocket pressed, Ready at my behest, Daintily pretty Gilt-printed piece of leather, Though fair or foul the weather, Daily we go together Up to the City. Yet, as I ride at ease, Papers strewn on my knees, And I hear "Seasons, please!" Shouted in warning: Pockets I search in vain All through and through again; "Pray do not stop the train-- Lost it this morning. No, I have not a card, Nor can I pay you, Guard-- Truly my lot is hard, This is the reason, Now I recall to mind Changing my clothes, I find I left them all behind,-- Money, cards, 'Season.'"
(_FROM A COLLECTION OF COMMUNICATIONS SUPPLIED BY OUR PROPHETIC COMPILER._)
DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Pray protect the Griffin! Those Goths and Vandals, the Members of the Corporation of the City of London, will remove it, unless you intervene. This beautiful work of Art, that stands on the supposed site of the mythical Temple Bar, is to come down. What would our ancestors say if they were here? Would they not frown at their degenerate descendants? Every student of history knows that this Griffin was put up by universal consent, and considered one of the finest works of art of the nineteenth century. As, indeed, it was. It is full of historic memories. It was here that WELLINGTON met NAPOLEON after Waterloo; and here, again, was the Volunteer Movement inaugurated, when Mr. Alderman WAT TYLER, putting himself at the head of the citizens, called for "Three cheers for the Charter and the Anti-Corn-Law League!" The beautiful bas-reliefs that used to represent the occasions have disappeared, but their subjects are tenderly cherished. If the Corporation _must_ pull down something, let them destroy the recently-erected Mansion House! but spare, oh spare, the Griffin!
Yours truly, A STUDENT OF THE LORE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
DEAR MR. PUNCH,--It is time for a protest! One of the most beautiful erections of the nineteenth century (the old South Kensington Railway Station of the District Railway) is to be removed! Instead of the picturesque iron roof, we are to have some abomination in stone! Can this be? It is said to be falling to pieces under the ravages of Time. If this be really the case, why not let it be restored? There was no more picturesque outcome from the nineteenth century than these pretty arrangements in metal. The last generation swept them away by scores, by hundreds, by thousands--they did not even spare the Brompton Boilers! Let not such a reproach be applicable to us. We pride ourselves upon our love of Art and veneration for the antique and the beautiful, and yet we would pull down a building that for a century has been the admiration of all with a soul for Art and a mind for appreciating the sublimest efforts of genius in its highest sense! This must not be.