Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, December 13, 1890 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 37 pages of information about Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, December 13, 1890.

Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, December 13, 1890 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 37 pages of information about Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, December 13, 1890.

Quite a changed man!  No longer the debonnaire DICK, whose light heart and high spirits made him a favourite everywhere.  Politics have suddenly become a serious thing, and DICK POWER is saddened with them.

“I take bitters with my sherry-wine now,” DICK mentioned just now in sort of apologetic way at having been discovered, as it were, feasting in the house of mourning.  “At the present sad juncture, to drink sherry-wine with all its untamed richness might, I feel, smack of callousness.  Therefore I tell the man to dash it with bitters, which, whilst it has a penitential sound, adds a not untoothsome flavour in anticipation of dinner.”

Even with this small comfort ten years added to his age; grey hairs gleam among his hyacinthine locks; his back is bent; his shoes are clogged with lead.  A sad sight; makes one wish the pitiful business was over, and RICHARD himself again.

All the best of the Irish Members, whether Cavaliers or Cromwellians, are depressed in same way.  Came upon SWIFT MacNEILL in retired recess in Library this afternoon; standing up with right hand in trouser-pocket, and left hand extended (his favourite oratorical attitude in happier times) smiling in really violent fashion.

“What are you playing at?” I asked him, noticing with curiosity that whilst his mouth was, so to speak, wreathed in smiles, a tear dewed the fringe of his closed eyelids.

“Ah, TOBY, is that you?” he said, “I didn’t see you coming.  The fact is I came over here by myself to have me last smile.”

“Well, you’re making the most of it,” I said, wishing to encourage him.

[Illustration:  The Last Smile.]

“I generally do, and as this is me last, I’m not stinting measurement.  They’re sad times we’ve fallen on.  Just when it seemed victory was within our grasp it is snatched away, and we are, as one may say, flung on the dunghill amid the wreck of our country’s hopes and aspirations.  This is not a time to make merry.  Me country’s ruined, and SWIFT MacNEILL smiles no more.”

With that he shut up his jaws with a snap, and strode off.  I’m sorry he should take the matter to heart so seriously.  We shall miss that smile.

Business done.—­Irish Land Bill in British Parliament.  Cork Parliament still sitting.

Thursday.—­Cork Parliament still sitting; PARNELL predominant; issues getting a little mixed; understood that Session summoned to decide whether, in view of certain proceedings before Mr. Justice BUTT, PARNELL should be permitted to retain Leadership.  Everything been discussed but that.  Things got so muddled up, that O’KEEFE, walking about, bowed with anxious thought, not quite certain whether it is TIM HEALY, SEXTON, or JUSTIN McCARTHY, who was involved in recent Divorce suit.  Certainly, it couldn’t have been PARNELL, who to-day suggests that the opportunity is fitting for putting Mr. G. in a tight place.

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, December 13, 1890 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.