Mr. Punch's Railway Book, J. A. Hammerton et al. [digital ebook reader .txt] 📗
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The one duty of a guard—as of a watch—is to "keep time." He is not expected to keep anything else, except tips. For instance he is not bound to keep his temper, or to keep on the look out for roughs.
No one has a legal right to get into a carriage which is full, but then a third-class carriage never is full so long as one more brawny brute can violently force his way into it.
When bent upon enjoying the exceptional privileges and immunities reserved for blackguardism by the Underground Gallios, it is only necessary for a few hulking ruffians, big of course, and half drunk by preference, to thrust themselves violently in some compartment containing no less than twice its legal complement. In doing this they will, of course, rudely trample the toes of weak women, and insolently dislodge the hats of inoffensive men; thus paving the way pleasantly for future operations.
Having squeezed themselves in somehow, they can then further indulge in the lesser amenities of travel by puffing rank tobacco smoke in the faces of their fellow-passengers, expectorating at large with not too nice a reference to direction, and indulging in howling, chaff, and horse-play of the most offensive character.
The addition of blasphemy, especially if there should be women and children present, may probably provoke a mild remonstrance from some one, and then the rough's opportunity has arrived at last.
To particularise the rough's rules for dealing with such an objector and his sympathisers—if any—would be as tedious as superfluous; but the combined arts of the low pugilist, the intoxicated wife-beater, and the Lancashire "purler," may be called into play, with much enjoyment and perfect safety, until the object of his wrath is beaten into unconsciousness or kicked into convulsions. On reaching a station, the frightened passengers may perhaps dare to appeal to the guard! That autocratic official will of course, with much angry hustling and holloaing, declare that he can't stop to interfere, his business being, not to stay actual violence or prevent possible homicide, but to "keep time," and the ruffianly scoundrels go off shouting and singing "Rule Britannia" and telling their pals "what a bloomin' lark they've had in the Hunderground."
[Pg 185]
Ticket Clerk. "Where for, ma'am?"
Old Lady. "There! Lawk a mercy if I haven't forgot. Oh! mister, please run over a few of the willages on this railway, will yer?"
[Bell rings—Old Lady is swept away.]
[Pg 186]
YE RAILWAY STATION DURING YE HOLIDAY TIME IN YE ROMAN PERIOD
(From a rare old frieze (not) in ye British Museum)]
[Pg 187]
"WAR'S ALARMS"
Timorous Old Lady (in a twitter). "Are those cannon balls, station-master?"
Station-Master (compassionately). "Oh no, mu'm, they're only Dutch cheeses, 'm', come by the Rotterdam boat last night—that's all, mu'm!"
[Pg 188]
THE MAIDEN'S PRAYER
A sketch at Aldersgate Street Station
[Pg 189]
OBSTRUCTIONISTS IN A SMOKING CARRIAGE
[Pg 190]
TERMINUS TRIOLETS
At Charing Cross.
To Paris by the tidal train.
Here, register this luggage, quick!
Why, all the world seems going, Jane,
To Paris by the tidal train.
It's blowing quite a hurricane;
I hope, my love, you won't be sick.
To Paris by the tidal train.
Here, register this luggage, quick!
At Euston.By Jove, I've run it precious near,
Was ever "hansom"-horse so slow!
Look sharp, now, porter, for it's clear,
By Jove, I've run it precious near.
Holloa!—that gun-case—hand it here,
The hat-box in the van can go.
By Jove, I've run it precious near!
Was ever "hansom"-horse so slow!
[Pg 191] At Liverpool Street.Six wholes, three halves, all second class.
The baby, mind, you might have killed her.
Oh, policeman, please to let us pass!
Six wholes, three halves, all second class,
To Yarmouth. What a madd'ning mass
Of people. Do come on, Matilda.
Six wholes, three halves, all second class.
The baby, mind, you might have killed her.
At Victoria.Two first, return, to Brighton, please.
Oh, yes—we'll go in Pullman's car.
I like to travel at my ease;
Two first, return, to Brighton, please.
We're running down to breathe the breeze,
I can't from business go too far.
Two first, return, to Brighton, please.
Oh, yes—we'll go in Pullman's car.
At Paddington.Guard, mark "Engaged" this carriage, pray;
Now, why on earth's the fellow grinning?
How could he know we're wed to-day?
Guard, mark "Engaged" this carriage, pray.
My darling, hide that white bouquet;
My head with champagne fumes is spinning.
Guard, mark "Engaged" this carriage, pray.
Now, why on earth's the fellow grinning?
At Waterloo.Good-bye my boy; just one kiss more;
You'll write to mother now and then?
A sign from sea is sweet on shore,
Good-bye, my boy; just one kiss more.
Nay, don't you cry, dear, I implore,
Red eyes are never meant for men.
Good-bye, my boy; just one kiss more;
You'll write to mother now and then?
[Pg 192]
"The last link is broken that bound me to thee"
BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS LONDON AND TONBRIDGE.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Punch's Railway Book, edited by J. A. Hammerton
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