Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, September 7, 1895Various
General
Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, September 7, 1895
Various
English wit and humor -- Periodicals
And crossed concerns of common civic life,
A constant influence, a peculiar grace;
But who, if he be called upon to face
Some awful moment of more dangerous kind,
Shot that may slay, explosion that may blind,
Is cool as a cucumber; and attired
In the plain blue earth's cook-maids have admired,
Calm, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law,
Fearless, unswaggering, and devoid of "jaw."
Or if some unexpected call succeed
To fire, flood, fight, he's equal to the need;
--He who, though thus endowed with strength and sense,
To still the storm and quiet turbulence,
Is yet a soul whose master bias leans
To home-like pleasures and to jovial scenes;
And though in rows his valour prompt to prove,
Cooks and cold mutton share his manly love:--
'Tis, finally, the man, who, lifted high
On a big horse at some festivity,
Conspicuous object in the people's eye,
Or tramping sole some slum's obscurity,
Who, with a beat that's quiet, or "awful hot,"
Prosperous or want-pinched, to his taste or not,
Plays, in the many games of life, that one
In which the Beak's approval may be won;
And which may earn him, when he quits command,
Good, genial, Sir JOHN BRIDGE'S friendly shake o' the hand.
Whom neither knife nor pistol can dismay,
Nor thought of bribe or blackmail can betray:
Who, not content that former worth stand fast,
Looks forward, persevering, to the last,
To be with PARTRIDGE, ex-detective, class'd:
Who, whether praised by bigwigs of the earth,
Or object of the Stage's vulgar mirth,
Plods on his bluchered beat, cool, gentle, game,
And leaves _somewhere_ a creditable name;
Finds honour in his cloth and in his cause,
And, when he dips into retirement, draws
His country's gratitude, the Bow Street Beak's applause:
This is the happy "Copper"; this is he
Whom every Man in Blue should wish to be.
* * * * *
"TWENTY MINUTES ON THE CONTINENT."
(_By Our Own Intrepid Explorer._)
"I tell you what you want," said my friend SAXONHURST. "You find your
morning dumb-bells too much for you, and complain of weakness--you
ought to get a blow over to France."
[Illustration]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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