Take Phil May's pictures and jokes, and the difference is at once apparent. He was fully alive to the Cockney's deficiencies of manner and culture; now and then he quite genially and without the least touch of scorn or self-complacency makes fun of them; but he really gives you the Cockney character. Take, for instance, such a picture as his "Politics and Gallantry," his "I say, 'Arry, don't we look frights!" his "Informal Introduction"--(the self-consciousness of the girl's expression, and the blatant pride of the man's)--here, and in almost any of his drawings you turn to, you have the absolutely natural Cockney; his types are full of character and so true and free from condescension that not only are we moved irresistibly to laugh at them, but the Cockney himself would be the first to recognise their truth and to laugh joyously at them too. We may say pretty much the same of Charles Keene, of Mr. Raven-Hill, of Mr. Bernard Partridge, and of others of the "Punch" artists represented here, who illustrate the essential Cockney character, and do not go on the easy assumption that dropped H's and mispronounced words and aggressive vulgarity are the beginning and the end of it. [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration] * * * * * [Illustration] MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY HUMOUR "All's swell that ends swell," as 'Arry remarked when he purchased a pair of "misfits." * * * * * 'ARRY AND 'ARRIET'S FAVOURITE ITALIAN POET.--'Ariosto. * * * * * MOTHER WIT.--_First Coster._ I say, Bill, wot's the meanin' o' Congress? _Second Coster._ A shee heel. Female of conger. * * * * * A LONDONER'S RURAL REFLECTION.--The Hayfield is better than the Haymarket. * * * * * 'ARRY'S LAMENT "A public meeting was held at Hampstead last night to protest against the tampering with the Heath by tube railway promoters."--_Daily Paper._ Wot! Toobs on 'appy 'Amstid? A stytion at _Jack Strors_? I 'old the sime a bloomin' shim An' clean agin the lors, Leastwyes it oughter be-- If lors wos mide by me No toobs yer wouldn't see On 'appy 'Amstid. Wy, wheer are we ter go, Liz, Ter git a breath of air? Yer'll set yer teeth agin the 'eath When theer's a toob up there. A pinky-yaller stytion By wye o' deckyrytion-- I calls it desecrytion, 'Appy 'Amstid. Oh! sive us 'appy 'Amstid! It's Parrydise, you bet! Theer ain't no smoke ter 'arm a bloke. Nor yet no smuts as yet. An' so I 'opes they'll tell This bloomin' Yanky swell Ter send 'is toobs ter--well, Not 'appy 'Amstid! * * * * * [Illustration: THE WILD WILD EAST _First Coster._ "Say, Bill, 'ow d'yer like my new kickseys? Good fit, eh?"