Identifier: punch08lemo (find matches)
Title: Punch
Year: 1841 (1840s)
Authors: Lemon, Mark, 1809-1870 Mayhew, Henry, 1812-1887 Taylor, Tom, 1817-1880 Brooks, Shirley, 1815-1874 Burnand, F. C. (Francis Cowley), 1836-1917 Seaman, Owen
Subjects:
Publisher: (London : Punch Publications, etc.)
Contributing Library: Harold B. Lee Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young University

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
instead of taking toardent spirits, may take to medicine as a cure for sorrow. TheChinese take to opium, and why should not any other drug becomeas fasciiiating as the one alluded to ? A glass of hot bark for onepenny would be perhaps a very attractive luxury on a cold wintersnight, particularly as bark is said to be strengthening, and fine oldsenna in pints might perhaps be kept for more genteel customers. Such is the effect that may be perhaps anticipated from Sir JamesGrahams Bill; that is, if anything comes from it at all, which issomewhat more than dubious. Practice BCakes Perfect. The Speaker of the House of Commons is already in training for theopening of the Session. He sits in his easy-chair every evening for severalhours after dinner, doing nothing but nodding occasionally to the oppo-site sides of the room. On certain evenings the housemaid moves auadjournment at an earlier hour, by turning down the rug and raking outthe fire. The Speaker has nicknamed her Brotherton. mmMw
Text Appearing After Image:
THE MEDICAL MAN, AS HE WILL BE, UNDERSIR JAMES GRAHAMS BILL. PHYSIC TO BE DRUNK ON THE PREMISES. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 31 LAY OF THE SPORTING LANDLORD. When I was sent to college, Twas in famous Oxfordshire ;Where I learnt Greek and Latin For nearly four long year,Till I came to my acres, The truth you soon shall hear ;Oh ! tis all my aim to preserve my game At all seasons of the year. As I and my head-keeper Were going of our rounds,We pounced upon a countryman, And lurcher, on my grounds ; Hallo, said we, you vagabond, What business have you here !Oh ! tis all my aim to preserve my game At all seasons of the year. A hare, and brace of pheasants Upon the rogue we found ;We had him to the magistrate, Who fined him twenty pound :He could not pay the fine, my boys, For it was so severe ;Oh ! tis all my aim to preserve my game At all seasons of the year. Then he began to whimper, And tell a piteous taleAbout his wife and family ; But we packd him off to gaol.We packd him off to

Note About Images