PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
Vol. 109.
July 20, 1895.
Your laugh would chase away the blues,
Your smile is always sunny,
One must be gay—who could refuse?
Your "mission" is just to amuse;
Discarding all blue-stocking views,
You fancy what is funny.
You have no fads on Man's Descent
From something quite atomic,
On Diet, Disestablishment,
On Dress, Diminishing of Rent,
Divorce or Dockyard Discontent—
You seek for something comic.
You wear no hygienic shoe,
Your dress is never frightful,
Your sense of humour makes you too
Alive to what you should not do,
You laugh at folks, not they at you,
You write what's quite delightful.
So laugh, and always make us gay;
Stern women are alarming,
The boldest men, I need not say,
Are simply scared by such as they,
You do not bore us, anyway.
Your conversation's charming.
SPORTING EVENT—A RECORD.