To the Electors of the United Kingdom!
I, PUNCH, who shoot at follies, and have wing'd 'em
For fifty years, and shall for fifty more,
Greet ye! It were to force an open door
To ask ye one and all, to give your votes
To ME! There, there, my boys! don't strain your throats!
My tympanum is tender. _Punch_ rejoices
To listen once more to "your most sweet voices,"
Only you need not howl and make them raucous.
I'm not a Party Nominee, no Caucus
Has wire-pulled Me! I'd like to see 'em do so!
I am _Man Friday_ to no party _Crusoe_,
SALISBURY, GLADSTONE, BALFOUR, HARCOURT, GOSCHEN,
Are all on my Committee. MORLEY's notion
(Shared for the nonce by JOE the shrewd and able),
Is, that it's safe to sit at _my_ Round Table,
Where they all hob-a-nob as friends, not foes!
E'en the MACULLUM MORE cocks not his nose
Too high in _Punch's_ presence; he knows better!
Supremacy unchallenged is a fetter
E'en to patrician pride, provincial vanity;
Scot modesty, and Birmingham urbanity,
Bow at my shrine, because they can't resist.
Thus I'm the only genuine Unionist,
While all the same, my British Public _you_'ll err,
If you conceive I'm not a firm Home-Ruler.
Perpend! There's sense and truth in my suggestions,
And therefore, do not ask superfluous questions.
You might as fitly paint Dame Venus freckled,
As fancy _Punch_ will stoop to being "heckled."
I have no "Programmes," I. My wit's too wide
To a wire-puller's "platform" to be tied.
I know what's right, I mean to see it done,
And for the rest good-tempered chaff and fun
Are my pet "principles"--till fools grow rash
From toleration, _then_ they feel the lash.
I am a sage, and not a prig or pump,
Therefore I never canvas, spout or stump,
I'm Liberal--as the sunlight--of all Good,
Which to Conserve I strive--that's understood,
But Tory nincompoop, or rowdy Rad,
The thrall of bigotry, the fool of fad
I hate alike. There's the straight tip, my bloaters!
Now run and vote for _Punch_--all who are voters;
And if some few have not that boon indeed,
Well those who cannot run at least can _read_.
There! that's enough, my lads! I'm off to lunch,
You, go and do your duty; plump for PUNCH!!!
* * * * *
[Illustration: "SED REVOCARE GRADUM."
_Beauty_ (_with cool candour_). "OH YES, INDEED, I FREQUENTLY MAKE
BETS; BUT I AM SO UNLUCKY!"
_Sporting Youth_ (_trying to be sympathetic_). "REALLY? BUT I SUPPOSE
YOU NEVER HAVE MUCH ON--THAT IS--I MEAN--" [_Collapse._]
* * * * *