Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. IV

Parodies

When first I used the railway,
        ’Twas in Mugby Junction days,
      With their sandwiches so salt and stale,
        Their buns with the fly-blown glaze,
      Their Melton pies of weight and size,
        Soup too hot down to fling,
      And sausage-rolls, if not men’s souls,
        Their stomachs made to wring.
      As you jumped from your first-class car,
      The minxes at Mugby Bar
        Your change tossed down,
        With a flounce and a frown,
      And a haughty, “There you are!”

      Five minutes, a frantic fixture,
        You strove with might and main
      To gulp some scalding mixture,
        While the bell rang――for the train!
      Your tea or soup you swallowed,
        As much as did not fly
      On your shirt-front or your waistcoat,
        From the dense crowd hustling by:
      While the minxes at Mugby Bar,
      Smiled, serene, upon the war,
        For they’d learnt the art,
        And looked the part――
      Of “We are your betters far.”

      But in PULLMAN’S dining-car, Sir,
        Now run on the Northern Line,
      You’ve a soup, and a roast and _entrées_,
        And your cheese and your pint of wine.
      At his table snug the passenger sits,
        Or to the smoke-room moves,
      While on either side the landscape flits,
        Like a world in well-greased grooves.
      Thanks to PULLMAN’S dining-car,
      No more Mugby Junction Bar――
        No more tough ham and chicken,
        Nor passenger-pickin’
      For the minxes behind the Bar!

      Then success to the Dining-Car, Sir,
        With elbow-room allowed,
      And leisure to dine and sip your wine,
        And blow the digestive cloud.
      _Punch_ takes off his hat to PULLMAN,
        And his sleeping and eating car,
      In the cause of British digestions,
        Against Mugby Junction Bar!
      Be the journey never so far,
      With his dining and sleeping-car,
        At our ease in our inn,
        Along we spin,
      Nor dread Mugby Junction Bar!

  _Punch._ November 1, 1879.

                  ――――:o:――――


                THE OLD BRIGADE.

      Where are the boys of the Old Brigade
        Who fought with us side by side?
      Shoulder to shoulder, and blade by blade,
        Fought till they fell and died!
      Who so ready and undismayed?
        Who so merry and true?
      Where are the boys of the Old Brigade;
        Where are the lads we knew?
              Then steadily, shoulder to shoulder
                Steadily blade by blade!
              Ready and strong, marching along,
                Like the boys of the Old Brigade.

      *     *     *     *     *

                                     F. E. WEATHERLY.

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. IV

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