Punch, or The London Charivari | Page 6

M.D.--Case
of dyspepsia. What ought to be prescribed for a patient suffering from
severe indigestion, caused _by having eaten his own words?_ Perhaps
one of the most distinguished members of the Medical Congress,
possessing a great experience among Cabinet Ministers and other
Parliamentary celebrities, will oblige with "a solution"? And this is a
perfectly serious question, although it certainly sounds as if it were
only intended for a Roose.
* * * * *
MR. CLIP'S APPEAL.
[The Hairdressers' Early Closing Association of London (whose
Central Office is at 6, Swallow Street, Piccadilly, W., and whose
President is Mr. W.J. REED, and Hon. Sec., Mr. A.M. SUTTON), has
for object "to secure and maintain one early-closing day per week,
suitable to the neighbourhood, and to generally assist in obtaining time
for rest and recreation, and promote better and healthier conditions for
hairdressers."]
[Illustration: HAIR AND HEXERCISE; OR, TAKING THE HAIR ON
A 'OLE 'OLIDAY.]
Dear BOB,--There's a stir in our noble Profession. The hope of the

Hairdresser, silent so long, At last, like most others, is finding
expression. We've started, dear BOB, and are now going strong. Early
Closing's our object, which means that on one day We want to shut up
shops and scissors at five! Perhaps Saturday's best, BOB, as coming
next Sunday-- Don't seem asking _much_, if they'd keep us alive.
You cannot imagine how grinding our trade is-- Long hours, and long
waits, BOB, when custom is slack! When the premises hold one old
gent and two ladies, 'Tis hard for twelve chaps to be kept on the rack.
To knock off at five on a Saturday eases Our week's work a little. One
evening in six Ain't more than the Public can spare--if it pleases-- If
only its hours 'twill conveniently fix.
When a swell wants a shave, a shampoo, or a clipping, He likes to drop
in at his pleasure, no doubt; But surely he'd not keep us scraping and
snipping To save him from being a trifle put out! If he'll but get fixed
before five on a Saturday, We poor Hairdressers may get just a chance
Of an hour or two's pleasure or rest on the latter day; Prospect to make
many dreary eyes dance!
And yet some object to this small "Early Closing," I wish they could
know what it is to chop, chop, When your feet are one ache and your
eyes drawn to dozing And you're sick of the sight and the smell of the
shop! When a whiff from the meadows appears to come stealing Above
all our washes, and powders, and soaps; And the whirr of the brush
which revolves near the ceiling Seems pain to our ears and seems death
to our hopes!
True, most of the Masters will yield to our yearnings, A lesson I think
to the few who stand out! I wager the change won't diminish their
earnings, W. REED and A. SUTTON know what they're about,-- Our
President, BOB, and our Hon. Sec. Address 'em At "fair Piccadilly," 6,
Swallow Street, W. Hairdressers' Assistants unitedly bless 'em, If you,
BOB, or others can help us, I'll trouble you!
'Tis long, my dear BOB, since I sent you a letter, And this you'll admit
is a practical one. We Hairdressers wish our condition to better, And
get our fair share of rest, leisure, and fun. One Five o' Clock Close

every week is our plea, BOB, Not much for the slaves of scrape-scrape
and snip-snip! The fairness of it I'm convinced you will see, BOB, And
so should the world, says
CARACTACUS CLIP.
[_Mr. Punch_, who knows how much his own personal comfort is
dependent upon the adroit ministrations of the "Sons of the Shears,"
cordially seconds the appeal of his old Correspondent.]
* * * * *
A CASE OF FRENCH LEAVE.--The Gallic Fleet have gone to
Cherbourg--as if they had not had enough "cheers" before leaving
England!
* * * * *
[Illustration: DIFFERENCE OF OPINION.
Jones (_reading aloud_). "'A TRUE, GOOD, NOBLE WOMAN IS
EVER READY TO MAKE HERSELF A DOOR-MAT FOR THE
MAN SHE LOVES!'... AH, DOLLY, THOSE ARE THE WOMEN
WHO MAKE THE BEST WIVES!"
_Mrs. J._ (_who is not of this type_). "YES, DEAR--AND THE
_WORST HUSBANDS!_"]
* * * * *
MR. PUNCH'S ANTI-LABOUR CONGRESS.
_MR. PUNCH (IN A MARINE LOTOS-LAND) SINGS HIS
SEA-SIDE VERSION OF THE LAUREATE'S LOVELY "CHORIC
SONG."_
I.
There is a slumber here that softlier falls Than forty-winks where dull,

dull Bills they pass; Oft have I drowsed within those dreary walls,
Where brays the pertinacious party ass. Here sleep more gently on the
spirit lies Than where the SPEAKER tells the Noes and Ayes. The
wave-wash brings sweet sleep down, from the summer skies, Here laps
the azure deep, And through the weed the