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Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 105, August 19th 1893   By:

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

VOLUME 105, August 19TH 1893

edited by Sir Francis Burnand

POPULAR SONGS RE SUNG. "BLAZY BILL; OR, THE BICYCLE CAD."

AIR " Daisy Bell; or, a Bicycle made for Two. "

[Illustration]

"The churl in nature up and down" is perennial and ubiquitous. Like the god Vishnu, he has many avatars. Every new development of popular pastime (for instance) developes its own particular species of "Cad." LEECH'S "Galloping Snob" of a quarter of a century ago has been succeeded by that Jehu of the "Bike," the Cycling Cad, to whose endearing manners and customs in the Queen's highway, and elsewhere, the long suffering pedestrian is persuaded a laggard Law will shortly have to find its attention urgently directed. Mr. Punch , who is of the same opinion, adapts Mr. HARRY DACRE'S popular song to what he is convinced will be a popular purpose.

Perturbed Pedestrian sings :

There is a fear within my heart, BLAZY! BLAZY! Planted one day with a demon dart. Planted by BLAZY BILL. Whether he'll kill me, or kill me not, Smash me or only spill, Little I know, but I'd give a lot To be rescued from BLAZY BILL.

Chorus

BLAZY! BLAZY! Give me a chance, Sir, do! I'm half crazy, All for the fear of you. You haven't a stylish way, Sir, I can't admire that "blazer" (Which you think sweet). The curse of the street Is the Bicycle Cad like you!

You rattle along as though for your life, BLAZY! BLAZY! Pedalling madly, with mischief rife, Blundering BLAZY BILL! When the road's dark we need Argus sight, Your bell and your lamp do nil But dazzle our eyes and our ears affright, Blustering BLAZY BILL!

Chorus

BLAZY! BLAZY! Bother your "biking" crew! I'm half crazy, All for sheer dread of you. I can't afford a carriage, If I walk in Brixton or Harwich The curse of the street, I am sure to meet In a Bicycle Cad like you!

Why should we stand this wheel bred woe? BLAZY! BLAZY! Yes, your vile bell you will ring, I know, Suddenly , BLAZY BILL, When you're close on my heels, and a trip I make, And, unless I skedaddle with skill, I'm over before you have put on the brake, Half fuddled BLAZY BILL!

Chorus

BLAZY! BLAZY! Turn up wild wheeling, do! I'm half crazy, All in blue funk of you. The Galloping Snob was a curse, Sir, But the Walloping Wheelman's a worser. I'd subscribe my quid To be thoroughly rid Of all Bicycle Cads like you!

SHOOTING THE CHUTES.

( After Southey. )

A VISION OF EARL'S COURT.

Here they go hurrying, Up the steps scurrying, Pushing and jostling, Elbowing, hustling, Squeezing and wheezing they rush to the top. Puffing and panting, Tearing and ranting, (First rate for Banting,) onward they climb. Up on the landing, Scarce room for standing, Man is commanding, "There you must stop! Don't cross the railing, Keep to the paling; Place for two more, Sirs, Go on before, Sirs; List to the roar, Sirs ain't it sublime! Tuck in the mackintosh, Hold tight, Sir!" "Oh, what bosh!" Side by side seated, Breathless and heated, Freezing and sneezing, Down the Chute shooting, Yelling and hooting, 'ARRY and 'ARRIET, Princess and Peer, White man and black man and Injun to steer. " You're sure there's no danger? " "There's nothing to fear." " Are babies admitted? " "O no, mum, not 'ere." And waving and raving, And beaming and steaming, And laughing and chaffing, And thumping and bumping, And plumping and jumping, And spinning and grinning, And chattering and clattering, And blushing and gushing and rushing and flushing, And bawling and sprawling and hauling and calling, And foaming, bemoaning a bonnet dropped off, Not hearing the jeering of people who scoff, The peril of spilling delightfully thrilling, Tho' incivil devil's instilling cavilling; And screaming, not dreaming of being upset, And splashing and dashing and dripping with wet, And screeching and reaching for hat blown away, Excited, affrighted, delighted, benighted, And calling and bawling Hurrah and Hurray! "And so never ending but always descending Sounds and motions for ever and ever are blending;" All at once all is o'er, with a mighty uproar, And drenched and bedraggled they land on the shore... Continue reading book >>


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