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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 104, March 4, 1893   By:

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"Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 104, March 4, 1893" is a delightful collection of satirical sketches, humorous essays, and witty illustrations that provide an insightful look into the social and political issues of the time. The writers and illustrators showcased in this volume have a sharp wit and keen sense of humor that make for an entertaining read.

One of the highlights of this book is the variety of topics covered, from current events to societal norms, all tackled in a humorous and clever manner. The illustrations are equally impressive, adding a visual element that enhances the overall reading experience.

Overall, "Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 104, March 4, 1893" is a charming and entertaining read that offers a window into the past while also highlighting timeless themes that are still relevant today. I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys wit, humor, and a unique perspective on history.

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Transcriber's Note: The short pieces "Suppositious" and "Quite Another Thing" were moved from their original positions accompanying the illustration "The Political Fancy Dress Ball at Covent Gardent" to the end, to prevent the "Essence of Parliament" article from being broken in the middle.



VOL. 104.

March 4, 1893.


Ah, why, my Love, receive me With such tip tilted scorn? Self love can scarce retrieve me From obloquy forlorn; 'Twas not my fault, believe me, That wealthy I was born. Of Nature's gifts invidious I'd choose I know not which; One might as well be hideous As shunn'd because he's rich. O Love, if thou art bitter, Then death must pleasant be; I know not which is fitter, Not I (or is't "not me"?)

'Tis not that thou abhorrest, Oh, maid of dainty mould! The foison of the florist, The goldsmith's craft of gold; Nor less than others storest Rare pelts by furriers sold; But knowing I adore thee, And deem all graces thine, My choicest offerings bore Just because they are mine. Then, smile not, dear deceiver, Keep no kind word for me, Enough that the receiver Is thou (or is it "thee"?)

When others come, how trimly Thou sett'st thy chatty sail! For me alone all dimly Seemeth the sun to fail... Continue reading book >>

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