PUBLISHED AT THE OFFICE, 85, FLEET STREET,

1880.

LONDON:

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.

SCENE-The Thames out Henley way. MR. PUNCH discovered lazily lolling in a Skiff moored among the reeds. TOBY dutifully imitating his Master in uncompromising dolce far niente. To them enter hastily, and fresh from London, the FIRST LORD of the TREASURY.

Premier. Ah! found you at last, my dear PUNCH! Whoof! I wired you. Why didn't
Punch. Telegrams never come here, where I loll, like the mighty God Pan, Sir,
"Down in the reeds by the river."

Premier.

Punch (yawning). Rather not turn on that tap in a Lotos-land lovely as this is.
Still if it must be, it must. Only first try another potation.
Premier. Thanks! I must catch the next train up to London; and so-

Punch.

No House to-night! Take it easy!
Premier.

you answer?

[Passes tankard.

Botheration!

You're lazy,-yet cute as a Q.C.
I've run down to seek your advice; I am sure you will give it in nuce.
Punch. Palaver in June-on the river! By Phoebus, the thing lacks congruity!
Premier. Sir, in evading the point, you 're displaying a Turk's ingenuity.
Punch. Terrible wriggler, the Ottoman; many more shifts than old Merlin.

Wonder if joint-stock coercion will bring him to book now at Berlin?
Premier. That is just one of the points that I wanted-

Punch.

By Jove, look at TOBY! A

Hope it may prove the right key-note of Harmony. Ah! if the Powers
Their Plenipos mustered down here, 'midst the reeds and forget-me-not flowers,
I'd settle the "three points" like winking.

Premier.
Punch. This is not the "Answärtige Amt."
To-ah! what a glorious sunset!
Premier. PUNCH, if I but had my will-
Punch.

Well, first for the Turco-Greek frontier-
Better far in a skiff or a punt here,
By Phoebus, it's really magnificent!

I much fear I should be in a jiffy sent
Straight to that dull Wilhelmstrasse,-in June! My objection 's emphatic.
Much nicer to watch my float bobbing than listen to jaw diplomatic.
Premier (glumly). Your counsel is commonly ready, but

Punch (reassuringly).

And when did your PUNCHIUS fail you? What is it?

Premier (deprecatingly).

Punch.

Pshaw! my sweet WILLIAM, don't hurry!

I fear I'm a worry.

But as to Coercion-Obstruction-Rad Hobbies-bad Ottoman habits-
SIR BARTLE and BRADLAUGH-Scotch bigots-hot HARCOURT-the Hares and the Rabbits-
That task for a modern God Terminus, Thessaly way-and those Tories,

Who swear in one breath we 're both stealing and turning our backs on their glories,-
Why really, my cool-puffing PUNCH, there are so many points, that--

No doubt of it.

A pretty tight fit, Sir, all round; but, my WILLIAM, you know the way out of it.
Principle, patience, and pluck. Oh come, come, my stout veteran, verily,
Spite of your seventy summers, you seem to have started right merrily.
Peg away. Puzzled? Pooh! pooh !-you're so modest.

Premier.

Of course your approval,
In principle, lightens the load, but 'twould hasten the burden's removal
If hints as to details-

Punch (rousing himself).

Here goes then! A batch of new brooms, you 're expected
To sweep very clean, and already a good deal of dirt you 've detected;
But would you the Padishah squeeze without putting the Powers at jangles-
Get Tory intrigue out of hobbles, and Tory finance out of tangles-

And scumfish the hosts of O'DONNELL, and drive half the crotchets to Sheitan,
And do all the other stiff jobs that the Pigmies expect from a Titan-

You may, it is true, need a "tip" or two. Take them, in bulk and in brightness,
Sweetness and Light quintessentialised, Art without queerness or "quite-ness,"
Portable pithy omniscience, encyclopedian wisdom,

Smartness unspoiled by the taint of the Cockney Cad's realm of Cheap Fizz-dom;
Statesmanship's true Vade Mecum, 'Time's chronicle wrought with conciseness,
And writ in a manner most trenchant, a style that, for terseness and niceness,
Would take the shine out of THUCYDIDES, stump smart MACAULAY, or bowl HUME,-
Take-need I mention the Masterpiece ?-take PUNCH'S

Seventy-Eighth Volume !