PUNCH ***
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PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 102.
February 13, 1892.
"PLEASING THE PIGS!" (FROM A PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL REPORT.)
Mr. CHAPLIN received a deputation on the subject of the Swine-fever last week. True to his dramatic instincts as regards the fitness of things, the Minister for Agriculture was, on this occasion, wearing a Sow-wester. He regretted that he was unable to don a pig-tail, which, as the representative of the Fine Old English Gentleman of years gone by, he should much like to do, but it was a fashion with the pig-wigs of the last century which he hoped to see revived as "a tail of old times." It was better, far better to be pig-tailed as were their great grandfathers, than to be pigheaded as were so many people with pig-culiar notions, specially in Scotland.
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"I am doing and have been doing," said the Ministering CHAPLIN, "my very best to please the pigs, but there are some pigs that won't be pleased when they find that everything is not going to be done for them gratis. You may take this for grunted,--I should say granted. Now let me give you an illustration. There were five pigs belonging to a well-known littery family. The first pig went to market but no one would purchase him, the second pig stayed at home (not feeling well), the third pig had pleuro-pneumonia, and the fourth pig was in full swing--if you can imagine a pig in a swing--of swine-fever; and the fifth and quite the smallest pig of the lot, a mere sucking-pig, went 'wheeze, wheeze, wheeze!' and 'wheezes' were always a very bad sign. _À propos_ of 'signs' I have little doubt but that the well-known sign of the 'Pig and Whistle' descends to us from ancient times of Influenza. He trusted that the whole pig-family would soon be pigging up again."
The Right Hon. Gentleman finished by apologising for not being able to quote anything apposite from the works of either the philosophic BACON, the Ettrick Shepherd HOGG, or the poetic SUCKLING, his motto for the present being "_porker verba_," and he had to issue a Circular about the cattle who were all going wrong.
The Deputation thanked Mr. CHAPLIN, and unanimously expressed their opinion, that where pigs were concerned, the Minister should have his stye-pend increased. Noticing that Mr. CHAPLIN had risen from his chair, and had assumed a threatening attitude, the Deputation hurriedly thanked the Minister of Agriculture, and speedily withdrew.
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ANSWER TO THE RIDDLE IN LAST WEEK'S NUMBER.--"Mire + t = Mitre."
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CHARLES HADDON SPURGEON.
BORN, JUNE 19, 1834. DIED, JAN. 31, 1892.
Sturdy saint-militant, stout, genial soul, Through good and ill report you've reached the goal Of all brave effort, and attained that light Which makes our clearest noontide seem as night. How much 'twill show us all! We boast our clarity Of spiritual sense, but mutual charity Is still our nearest need when faith grows fierce And even hope earth's mists can hardly pierce. You were much loved; you spake a potent word In the world's ear, and listening thousands heard With joy that clear and confident appeal. The lingering doubts finer-strung spirits feel, The sensitive shrinkings from familiar touch Of the high mysteries, moved you not. Of such The great throng-stirrers! And you stirred the throng Who felt you honest and who knew you strong; Racy of homely earth, yet spirit-fired With all their higher moods felt, loved, desired. Puritan, yet of no ascetic strain Or arid straitness, freshening as the rain And healthy as the clod; a native force Incult yet quickening, cleaving its straight course Unchecked, unchastened, conquering to the end. Crudeness may chill, and confidence offend, But manhood, mother wit, and selfless zeal, Speech clear as light, and courage true as steel Must win the many. Honest soul and brave, The greatest drop their garlands on your grave!
