Punch, or The London Charivari | Page 8

dear children, you all seem to have been very observant, and let me hope that if A Royal Divorce does not exactly add to the reputation of NAPOLEON, JOSEPHINE, Mr. WILLS, or MARIE LOUISE, it may yet fill the coffers of Miss GRACE HAWTHORNE.
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NAVAL NOTE.--The Shibboleth of international courtesy in these days of big Iron-clad Fleets should surely be, "May it please your Warships!"
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SONG OF THE SHAMPOOED ONE (AFTER TENNYSON),--"Sweet after showers ambrosial (h)air!"
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[Illustration: CAUSE AND EFFECT.
"MY LITTLE BOY, SIR, DIED WHEN HE WAS ONLY TWO MONTHS OLD, JUST AFTER HE HAD BEEN VACCINATED."
"HOW VERY SAD! HAD HE BEEN BAPTISED?"
"YES, SIR; BUT IT WAS THE VACCINATION AS CARRIED HIM OFF, SIR!"]
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THE MODERN "BED OF PROCRUSTES."
[PROCRUSTES, or "the Stretcher," was the surname of one POLYPEMON, a Greek "gentleman of the road," whose amiable habit was to stretch or shorten the bodies of travellers who fell into his hands, so as to make them of the same length as a certain bed of his upon which it was his wont to tie them.]
To shorten the long, and to lengthen the short, May have made the Greek robber-chief excellent sport; But the Stretcher's strange pallet-rack seems out of date In the land of the free, 'neath a well-ordered State. MENIPPUS told NIREUS,[1] that pet of the ladies, Equality perfect prevaileth in--Hades "Where all are alike." Said THERSITES, "for me That's enough," but beau NIREUS could hardly agree With such levelling down to the churl who for shape In his strange second life chose the form of an ape. For THERSITES & Co., for the weakly and small, Who in free competition must go to the wall, The plan of PROCRUSTES has obvious charms: "Cut 'em down to our standard, chop legs, shorten arms! Bring us all to one level in power and pay, By the rule of a legalised Eight Hours Day!" So shouts Labour's Lilliput--that is its voice, And the modern PROCRUSTES thereat must rejoice. "No giants, no dwarfs!" So say BROWNING and BURT, But to "raise the whole race" can't be done in a spurt, And while Nature provides us with genius and clown, There is nought to be gained by mere levelling down. So the plan of PROCRUSTES, my boys, will not work, Or will benefit none save the sluggard or shirk. Oh yes, the bold bully stands swaggering there With the axe in his hand, and his head in the air, Type of heedless Compulsion, the shallow of pate, Who man's freedom would sell to a fetish of State. Self-help and joint effort, as BURT wisely said, Are better by far than--that comfortless bed. That new Little-Ease that free Labour would pack, On a sort of plank-pillow combined with a rack. "Come on, longs and shorts!" shouts PROCRUSTES the New, "Law shall lend us its axe, and its rope, and its screw I must make you all fit to my Bed standard-sized!" Ah! Labour may well look a little surprised. "Fit us all to that cramped prison-pallet! Oh lor! It may suit a few stumpies, but England holds more. Might as well fit us out with fixed 'duds' from our birth. Regardless of difference in growth, or in girth. No! Snap-votes may be caught 'midst a Congress's roar, But tool us all down to one gauge, mate? Oh lor!!!"
New Unionist Titan and Stentor in one, To pose as PROCRUSTES may seem rather fun; When it comes to the pinch of experiment, then You may find that some millions of labouring men Of all sorts and sizes, all callings and crafts, The toilers by furnaces, factories, shafts, The thrall of the mine, and the swart stithy slave, The boys of the bench, and the sons of the wave, Are not quite so easy to "size up" all round To that comfortless bed where you'd have them all bound, As the travellers luckless who fell in the way Of the old Attic highwayman THESEUS did slay. Though your voice may sound loud and your thews look immense, You may fall to the THESEUS--of Free Common Sense! As BURT says--and his eloquence moves but beguiles not-- On short cuts to Millennium Providence smiles not!
[Footnote 1: LUCIAN's Dialogues of the Dead.]
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APPROPRIATE LOCATION.--"Yes," said a friend of the person they were discussing, "he is a great traveller, and tells you some of the most marvellous stories." "Where does he live?" was the question. And the very natural answer was, "Oh, in some out-and-out-lying district."
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[Illustration: THE MODERN "BED OF PROCRUSTES."
PROCRUSTES. "NOW THEN, YOU FELLOWS; I MEAN TO FIT YOU ALL TO MY LITTLE BED!"
CHORUS. "OH LOR-R!!"
["It is impossible to establish universal uniformity of hours without inflicting very serious injury to workers."--_Motion