Cordon of Police.
Drum.
Committee of Arrangements.
Fife.
Target Company.
Drum and Fife.
Small boys.
Apple-women.
Drum.
The Enlightened candidate for the Vituperator was the first on the
stand. He rushed forward and said:--
"The Vituperative candidate of the Intelligent let fall in a former
speech some subtle or carefully worded innuendoes as to my character. I
have only to say that his speech was a tissue of falsehood. I will
trespass upon your patience further, to add that JONES is an infernal
bummer and a sneak. If he is not, my fellow-citizens, why then I am.
(Indignant cries of 'That's so!') My friends, you cannot doubt this
reasoning. The facts are then conclusive. Either he is a bummer, or I
am. It is therefore your duty, on the 8th November, to elect me at once
and in fact to the office of Vituperator, and prospectively to those of
Mayor, Governor, and President of the United States." (Prolonged
cheering.)
Mr. DE MAGOG, a very giant of eloquence, a Gog as well as Magog of
oratory, next set the enlightened agog with a speech.
"Fellow-citizens! Men and Brothers! Victory or defeat! Liberty or death!
Glorious republic! Stars and Stripes! Down with the traitor! To the
polls! Red fire--blood and thunder"--(voice drowned in shouts of wild
enthusiasm.)
The Eye-witness, meantime, had become distracted with harassing doubts.
Subscribing fully to the politics of PUNCHINELLO, which is the only
paper he reads, he had hitherto announced himself as a member of the
Right Party. Being, however, open to conviction, he had unfortunately
permitted both parties to convict him. In this awful crisis Reason
appeared about to totter from her throne. The Eye-witness thrust his
head wildly from the window, and shrieked to the crowd below: "Where's
the Right Man? I belong to the Right Party. I want to hear the Right
Man!!"
At once the mob became a sea of upturned faces. The Enlightened,
together with a large number of the Intelligent, who had lingered on the
scene, with one common consent lifted up their voices and groaned. The
groan was but a premonitory thunder to a shower of sticks, stones,
whiskey-bottles, and superannuated eggs. The Eye-witness closed the
window with an undignified bang, and retired into the depths of his
chamber, where he remained until after the election. Owing to a dimness
of vision, resulting from the eggs-cruciating condition of his ocular
organs, the occupation of the Eye-witness was from that moment gone. And
to this fact must be attributed his inability to state, with any
certainty, whether the Right Party has succeeded in putting the Right
Man in the Right Place; but he rather thinks it has.
* * * * *
Spots on the Sun.
The _Sun_ is eclipsed by the _World,_ and is far behind the _Times._ It
cannot be considered a _Standard_ sheet, and will never personify the
_Star_ newspaper. Receiving its _News_ with the _Mail,_ as a _Herald_ it
is valueless. It cannot claim to be a _Journal of Commerce,_ and as a
_Tribune_ for the people it is a failure, and it does not shine as a
_Democrat,_ for it relies on the _Post_ for most of its intelligence.
Moral.--Keep the _Sun_ out of your eyes.
* * * * *
[Illustration: A CHEERFUL PROSPECT.
_First Old Loafer_. "THE PAPERS SAYS THERE'S A CHANCE OF THE BOURBON DIE
NASTY REIGNING IN FRANCE AGAIN."
_Second ditto_. "BULLY! IF THERE'S ANYTHING I LIVE FOR ITS A HIGH OLD
RAIN OF BOURBON. LET IT POUR!"]
* * * * *