Punch, Volume 92

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Punch Publications Limited, 1887 - English wit and humor

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Page 202 - Till there was not a sign of a leaf indeed To prove it fresh from the river. He cut it short, did the great god Pan, (How tall it stood in the river !) Then drew the pith, like the heart of a man, Steadily from the outside ring, And notched the poor dry empty thing In holes, as he sat by the river. 'This is the way...
Page 120 - Look, where he comes ! Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow'dst yesterday.
Page 65 - Thy wit's great overplus; But teach us yet Wisely to husband it, Lest we that talent spend; And having once brought to an end That precious stock, the store Of such a wit the world should have no more.
Page 93 - Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore: Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never — nevermore...
Page 93 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend !" I shrieked, upstarting: "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! Leave my loneliness unbroken ! quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Page 193 - Well, not this evenin', So, my little dear (brusquely), adoo!" very act of flight by memories of this last adventure — the one bright and cheering episode, possibly, in his entire professional career.) Fast he speeds across the housetops! (Rapid delivery for this.) (Very gently.) But his bosom throbs with bliss, For upon his rough lips linger Traces of a baby's kiss. (Most delicate treatment will be necessary in the last couplet — or the audience may understand it in a painfully literal sense.)...
Page 193 - All forgotten now the jewels, Once the purpose of his "job"; Down he sinks upon the door-mat, With a deep and choking sob.
Page 193 - oo work to bweak in houses ? Nana told me so, I 'm sure ! Will 'oo twy if 'oo can manage to bweak in my dolls'-house door ? " I tan never det it undone, so my dollies tan't det out ; They don't like the fwont to open every time...
Page 193 - Deftly now the task's accomplished, for the door will open well, When a childish voice behind him breaks the silence like a bell— "Sank 'oo, Missa Burglar, sank 'oo, and, betause 'oo's been tho nice, See, I've bwought 'oo up a tartlet — gweat big gweedies eat the ice. Papa says he wants to see 'oo ; Partinthon is tummin' too — Tan't 'oo stay — " "Well, not this evenin', so, my little dear, adoo!

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