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Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 93., October 1, 1887   By:

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 93. October 1, 1887.

THE WAIL OF MESSRS. BURT AND FENWICK.

THE Northumberland Miners' U ni on Have bidden their BURT bego o one. It seems, by the ballot, we soon shall be all out, And there'll be an end to our fun.

[Illustration]

Chorus. We've got no work to do o o o! We have no work to do o o! We are poor Members, poor Working Men Members, Who've got no work to do!

Oh, Morpeth and Wansbeck, o o oh! This same is a pretty go o o! The feelings why hurt of your FENWICK and BURT? We wouldn't have served you so! Chorus. We've got no work, &c.

The Working Men's Members of la a ate Were getting a power in the Sta a ate, But now they're rejected, or coldly ejected, Which same is a sorrowful fate. Chorus. We've got no work, &c.

JOE ARCH he had to go o o o, Then LEICESTER, the other JO O OE! And now we two'll have to forfeit our "screw," Which is jolly hard lines, you know. Chorus. We've got no work, &c.

It's hardly fair play to gi i ive, To a Labour Representati i ve, For without your cash, O Miners most rash, How, how shall we manage to live? Chorus. We've got no work, &c.

It is no doubt exceedingly tru u ue; We've found little work to do o o, In the House. For that same 'tis not we who're to blame, But the long Irish hullaballo. Chorus. We've got no work, &c.

We know these are very hard ti i imes, To scrape up the dollars and di i imes; But when we , dear Miners, are robbed of the shiners, We're punished for other folks' crimes. Chorus. We've got no work, &c.

Of course if you give us the sa a ack, Our Gladstone bags we must pa a ack, But perhaps for this hurry some day you'll be sorry, And wish BURT and FENWICK both back.

Chorus. We've got no work to do o o o! We're ballotted out of our scre e ew; Poor Working Men's Members, this worst of Septembers, In sorrow we sigh and boho o o!

THE 'EAT OF DISCUSSION. ( A Fancy founded on Facts. )

HE left the court with his colleagues at twenty minutes to one o'clock. He said nothing, but listened intently while the question of the Inquest was canvassed. Was it to be a verdict of Manslaughter or Murder, or only Accidental Death? He listened so intently that he was quite surprised when the clock struck two.

Yes two o'clock time for his lunch!

He rose from his seat, and went to the door. He spoke to one on the other side, he talked of cuts from the joints, and chops and steaks.

He was answered with laughter!

Then he returned to his chair, rather put out at this ill timed pleasantry, and listened once more to the arguments of his colleagues. They had got beyond the verdict now, and were discussing the "riders." The first, elaborately blaming the Magistrates, had been framed and passed, and the second dealing with the bye laws of the Town Council was under consideration. Before it was finally settled the clock struck three!

Yes, three! and since twenty minutes to one he had been locked in lunchless! He went to the door and beat it with his fists!

"Might he have a cut off the joint?"

"No!"

Again he was silent, and again his colleagues continued their discussion. They spoke in lower tones now, because they too were feeling the want of food. Four struck, and then five.

He staggered once more to the door, and in piteous tones made a last request,

Might he have a sandwich?

No!!!!!

It was too much! He ground his teeth in rage! Five hours had elapsed, and then the last and eighth rider, suggesting that after its final completion a theatre should be thrown open for public inspection for a week before a licence was granted, was passed... Continue reading book >>


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