Mr. Punch's Life in London - Part 8
Library

Part 8

A TEMPERANCE PUBLIC-HOUSE.--A slop-shop.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MELTING MOMENTS

(_Temperature 95 in the Shade._)

_Friend._ "How does this weather suit you, old chap?"

_Bankrupt Proprietor._ "Oh, down to the ground! You see, I'm in liquidation!"]

THE ORIGINAL COOK'S TOURIST.--Policeman X on his beat.

"THE GREAT PLAGUE OF LONDON."--A barrel-organ.

THE LATEST THING OUT.--The night-light.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Johnny_ (_who has to face a bad Monday, to Manager at Messrs. R-thsch-ld's_). "Ah! I--want to--ah!--see you about an overdraft." _Manager._ "How much do you require?" _Johnny._ "Ah!--how much have you got?"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _French Lady._ "Picca-di-lee Circus." _Obliging Conductor._ "All right. One pence." _French Lady_ (_who rather prides herself on her English p.r.o.nunciation_). "I anterstond ze Engleeshe langue." _Obliging Conductor._ "Oh, all right. Keep yer 'air on!"]

THE MOST UNPLEASANT MEETING.--Having to meet a bill.

WHAT intimate connection is there between the lungs of London and the lights of the metropolis?

SAW FOR SLOP TAILORS.--Ill tweeds shrink apace.

A TISSUE OF LIES.--A forged bank-note.

A NICE INVESTMENT.--Amongst the advertis.e.m.e.nts of new undertakings we notice one of "The Universal Disinfector Company." Our broker has instructions to procure us some shares, if they are in good odour.

A TIGHT FIT.--Intoxication.

HOW TO SUPPLY ST. PAUL'S WITH BELLS AND CHIMES _Cheap_.--Melt down the canons.

A THOUGHT FROM OUR TUB.--Respect everybody's feelings. If you wish to have your laundress's address, avoid asking her where she "hangs out."

HARD LINES.--Overhead wires.

HOTEL FOR BEE-FANCIERS.--The Hum-mums.

UNPRECEDENTED TRADE ANNOUNCEMENT.--The pig-market was quiet.

MONEY MARKET AND SANITARY INTELLIGENCE.--The unsafest of all deposits is the deposit of the banks of the Thames.

THE PLACE TO SPEND ALL FOOLS' DAY.--_Madame Tous-sots'._

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Bus-driver._ "All right, ladies! You're quite safe.

They're werry partikler wot they eats!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: METROPOLITAN IMPROVEMENTS

The next sensational literary advertis.e.m.e.nt; or, things of beauty in our streets.]

SOLEMN JEST.--Where should postmen be buried? In a post-crypt.