PEEL.—“Lord Lieutenant of Ireland—Henry Moreton Dyer.”
PUNCH.—An admirable person. As Ireland is the hotbed of all crimes, do we not want a Lord Lieutenant who shall be able to assess the true value of every indiscretion, from simple murder to compound larceny? As every Irishman may in a few months be in prison, I want a Lord Lieutenant who shall be emphatically the prisoner’s friend. Go on.
PEEL.—“Secretary for Home Department—George Robins.”
PUNCH.—A man so intimately connected with the domestic affairs of the influential classes of the country. Go on.
PEEL.—“Lord Chancellor—Mr. Dunn, barrister.”
PUNCH.—As it appears to me, the best protector of rich heiresses and orphans. Go on.
PEEL.—“Secretary for the Colonies—Money Moses.”
PUNCH.—A man, you will allow, with a great stake, in fact, with all he has, in one of our colonial possessions. Go on.
PEEL.—“President of the Council—Mrs. Fry.”
PUNCH.—A lady whose individual respectability may give a convenient cloak to any policy. Go on.
PEEL.—“Secretary for Ireland—Henry Moreton Dyer’s footman.”
PUNCH.—On the venerable adage of “like master like man.” Go on.
PEEL.—“Lord Chamberlain—The boy Jones.”
PUNCH.—As one best knowing all the intricacies, from the Royal bed-chamber to the scullery, of Buckingham Palace. Besides he will drive a donkey-cart. Go on.
PEEL.—“Ambassador at Paris—Alfred
Bunn, or any other translator of
PUNCH.—A person who will have a continual sense of the necessities of his country at home; and therefore, by his position, be enabled to send us the earliest copies of M. Scribe’s printed dramas; or, in cases of exigency, the manuscripts themselves. And now, Bobby, what think you of Punch’s Cabinet?
PEEL.—Why, really, I did not think the country contained so much state talent.
PUNCH.—That’s the narrowness of your philosophy; if you were to look with an enlarged, a thinking mind, you’d soon perceive that the distance was not so great from St. James’s to St. Giles’s—from the House of Commons to the House of Correction. Well, do you accept my list?
PEEL.—Excuse me, my dear Punch, I must first try my own; when if that fails—
PUNCH.—You’ll try mine? That’s a bargain.
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PUNCH’S PENCILLINGS.—No. III.
[Illustration: THE EVENING PARTY.
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