Punch, or The London Charivari | Page 5

turns up quite permiskus, and always upon the full trot; He seemed mixed up with Portias, and Doges, smart gals, and the dickens knows wot. All kep waving their arms like mad semy-phores, doin' the akrybat prank, As if they was swimming in nothink, or 'ailing a 'bus for the Bank.
I sez to a party beside me, "Old man, wot the doose does it _mean_?" Sez he, "A dry attic, yer know, of wich Venice, yer see, wos the Queen. That cove in a nightcap's the Doge; for an old 'un he can move about. They had G.O.M.'s, mate, in Venice; of that there is not the least doubt.
"That's VETTORE PISANI, the Hadmiral; t'other is General ZENO Defending the State, I persoom, and they're 'aving a fust-class old beano. Wy PEDRO THE SECOND, of Cyprus, and Portia is made a rum blend With Turps Siccory's Revels, and so on, no doubt we shall twig at the hend."
I sez, "Thankee! that's werry instructive. You do know a lot, mate, you do!" Then the fight at Chioggia came on. Sech a rum pully-haully all through. But the Victory Percession wos proper, and so was the All Frisky _feet_, And the way as they worked the gondolers, them streaky-legged chaps, wos a treat.
But the best o' the barney came arter. I took a gondoler, old man, Sort o' wobbly black coffin afloat, and perpelled on the rummiest plan With one oar and a kind of notched post. But a dressy young party in pink 'Ad a seat in my ship, and seemed skeery. I cheered 'er up--wot do you think?
"No danger," sez I, "not a mossel! Now is there, old lollipop-legs? Sit 'ere, Miss, and trim the old barky! Go gently now, young 'Am-and-Eggs! 'Ow much for yer mustard-striped kicksies? Way-oh! Wy, you nearly run down The Ryhalto that time, you young josser. Look hout, Miss, he'll crack your sweet crown!"
_Larf_, CHARLIE? She did a fair chortle. I _'ave_ sech a way with the shes. We 'ad six sixpennorths together--I tell you 'twos go-as-you-please! Modern Venice, took out of a toy-box, with palaces fourteen foot 'igh. And Bridges o' Sighs cut in pasteboard, is larks all the same, and no fly.
Sort o' cosy romanticky feeling a-paddling along them canals, With the manderlines twangling all round, and the larf of the gayest of gals Gurgling up through the Hightalian hair--though it do 'ave a cockneyfied sniff,-- Wy it's better than spooning at Marlow with MOLLY MOLLOY in a skiff.
I felt like Lord BYRON, I tell yer; I stretched myself, orty-like, hout, And wished it could go on all night, wich my pardner did ditto, no doubt. Modern Venice in minichure, CHARLIE, ain't really so dusty, you bet; I wos quite a Bassanio in breeks, and I ain't lost the twang of it yet.
My Portia wos POLLY MARIA; she tipped me her name fair and free; And a pootier young mossel o' muslin, I never 'ad perch on my knee. No side on 'er, nothink lowlived, CHARLIE, ladylike down to the ground, I called 'er my fair "Bride of Venice." In fact, we wos 'appy all round.
She said I wos _'er_ form to a hounce, and if anyone looked more O.K., In a nobby Gondoler than me, well that chap 'adn't travelled _'er_ way; Wich wos Barnsbury Park--so she whispered, with sech a sly giggle, dear boy! I sez "Bully for IMRE KIRALFY! His Show is a thing to henjoy!"
And so it is, CHARLIE, old hoyster. The music is twangly, I own, And if I've a fancy myself, 'taint hexactly the Great Xylophone; But the speeches of musical scratch-backs the dancers keep time with so pat, In that fairy-like Carnival Bally, fetched POLLY, ah, all round 'er 'at!
That 'at wos a spanker, I tell yer; as big as the Doge's State-Barge, And like all the "Four Seasons" in one! "Well," sez POLLY, "I do like 'em large, Them Venetian pork-pies ain't my fancy, no room for no trimmings above. They wouldn't suit Barnsbury Park, though they might do 'The Castle of Love'!"
Sort o' needled her somehow, I fancy; but, bless yer, I soon put that straight. Gals is wonderful touchy on togs! Covent Garden piled high on a plate With a blue hostrich-feather all round it, mayn't be man's hidea of a tile, But I flattered her taste a rare bat, and soon 'ad her again on the smile.
Well, "Venice the Bride of the Sea," is wuth more than one visit, old pal, And I've got a hengagement next week to go there with the same pooty gal. I'm going to read up the subjeck, I'll cram for it all I can carry, For I'm bound to be fair, in the know if young POLLY should question
Yours, 'ARRY.
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INNS AND OUTS.
NO. I.--"MISTER."
In