PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 101. July 11, 1891. VOCES POPULI. MORE _POT-POURRI_ FROM THE PARK. SCENE--_The Park, near Cumberland Gate, on almost any fine afternoon. Behind the rails separating the turf from the paths, Orators, Preachers, and Reciters are holding forth, for the delectation of small groups, who are mostly engaged in discussing some totally different subject. A set debate, with a time-limit, and a purely ornamental Chairman, is in progress between a Parnellite and an Anti-Parnellite. The reader will kindly imagine himself to be passing slowly along the line._ _A Youthful Socialist_ (_haranguing the usual crowd of well-to-do loungers, and working himself up to the requisite white-heat of factitious fury_). And what are these Capitalists? I'll tell yer. Jest a lot o' greedy gobblers and profit-mongering sharks, as eat up the smaller fry. And what are _you_? Why, you're the small fish as eat mud--and let yourselves _be_ gobbled! (_The crowd accept this definition of themselves with perfect gaiety and good-humour._) Some will tell yer that these lazy, idle loafers, work as hard as what we do ourselves. (_Derisive laughter at this ridiculous idea._) Mind yer, I'm not saying they don't. _Honly_, the 'arder they work, the worse it is for us; because the more they work the more they _rob_! That's what they send their sons to Oxford and to Cambridge--as was built and endowed for the benefit of us, the labourin' classes--for. They send 'em there to learn _'ow to rob_! [_Here a discussion breaks out between a Sceptic and a Spiritualist, who, with half-a-dozen interested auditors, have been putting their heads together in a corner._ _The Sceptic_. No,--but keep to the point,--you're shufflin' the question. I want to argue this out on logical grounds. I know as well as _you_ do that, if only I 'ave 'armony and a round table in my family, I can make that table dance the poker--but what I'm puttin' to _you_ is (_triumphantly_), 'ow does that prove to me as I'm in communication with the Bogie Man? That's what _you've_ got to answer. [Illustration: "Yer may sometimes hentertain a angel unawares!"] _The Y.S._. We Soshalists 'ate the Tories as we 'ate sin. Why, young polertician as I ham, &c., &c. _The Spiritualist_ (_an elderly and earnest person_). All I can reply to you is, we Spiritualists do not think--we _know_ that these phenomena appear--yes, as surely as I know I am 'olding this stick in my 'and. _The Sceptic_ (_pityingly_). There you go again, yer see--that stick ain't the point. _I_ can see the stick. A stick ain't a phenomena--you're confusin' two different things. Now I'm goin' to offer you a fair challenge. You perdooce me a Spirit--not in a back room, with the lights out, but _'ere_, in broad daylight, in this Park--you get that Spirit to naturalise itself, or whatever you call it, and I'll _believe_ in 'im. Come, now!