Don't talk to me of colocynth or famed cerulean pill,
Don't mention hyoscyamus or aloes when I'm ill;
The very word podophyllin is odious in mine ears,
The thought of all the drugs I've ta'en calls up the blinding tears;
The Demon of Dyspepsia, a sufferer writes to say,
At sight of the Tomato-plant will vanish quite away.
The Faculty will diet you till indigestion stops,
On what have always seemed to me interminable slops;
A dainty dish is sure to be the worst thing you can eat;
The bismuth and the charcoal come like nightmares after meat.
Away with all restrictions now, bring mutton, beef, and veal,
As long as ripe Tomatoes come to supplement a meal.
Hepatic action, doctors say, is very hard to start,
And if you have too much of it, that also makes you smart;
And so the fate of many folks, especially in town,
Is first to stir the liver up, and then to calm him down.
Now he can trouble us no more, although we go the pace;
A diet of Tomatoes keeps the tyrant in his place.
Away with deleterious drugs, for here's a plant been found,
Worth all the weird concoctions that dispensers can compound:
Get fresh Tomatoes, red and ripe, and slice and eat, and then--
You'll find that you are liver-less, and not like other men.
Come ye who dire dyspepsia's pangs impatiently endure,
It cannot hurt, and may do good, this new Tomato-Cure.
* * * * *
SWEETS TO THE ACID.--In an excellent speech, last week, Mr. HENRY
IRVING suggested that a Charitable Organisation Society should be
established for the Distribution of Art Relief. He rightly contended
that the Beautiful was as necessary to perfect happiness as the
Severely Useful. Drains (excellent things in their way) are scarcely
on a level with Pictures. This is an idea that the so-called
"goody-goody folk" find a difficulty in accepting; possibly because
most of them personally represent everything that is unlovely.
* * * * *
"WAX TO RECEIVE, AND MARBLE TO RETAIN."
[Illustration: "Whacks to Receive."]
According to an evening paper, the wedding-present of Colonel GOURAUD
to a distinguished couple took the novel and charming form of a
phonograph, recording, for all time, the musical portion of the
marriage ceremony. In all probability, this precedent will be widely
followed, and a set of waxen phonographic cylinders will be a familiar
feature in the list of presents at every wedding of any pretensions
to smartness. Still, there _may_ be cases in which those who intend
to imitate Colonel GOURAUD'S example would do well to consider first
whether the conditions are equally appropriate. For instance, young
JACK RIVENLUTE is not a bad fellow, though he may not be given to
sentiment, and VIOLA MANDOLINE is a very charming girl, if she
_is_ apt to be a trifle high-flown and exacting at times. When they
marry--(they have not even met at present, but they _will_ marry,
the year after next, unless _Mr. Punch's_ Own Second-sighted Seer
grossly deceives himself)--when they marry, VIOLA'S Uncle JOHN will
be the person to present them with the then orthodox phonograph and
appurtenances. But if he could foresee the future as distinctly as
_Mr. Punch's_ Seer has done in the following prophetic visions, he
might substitute a biscuit-box, or a fish-slice and fork, a Tantalus
spirit-case, or even a dumb-waiter, as likely, on the whole, to
inspire a more permanent gratitude.