Summary

Mr. Punch's Life in London

When he sees the broad pavement of pleasant Pall Mall.
Some folks like the City; wherever they range,
Their hearts are still true to the Royal Exchange;
They've beheld alpine summits rise rank upon rank,
But the Matterhorn's nothing compared with the Bank;
And they feel quite rejoiced in the omnibus ride,
As that hearse for the living rolls up through Cheapside.
The mind of a man is expanded by travel,
But give me my house on the Kensington gravel:
The wine of the Frenchman is good, and his grub,
But he isn't devoted to soap and the tub
Source: Gutenberg

Mr. Punch's Life in London

If you please, sir, as a young visitor to the metropolis, and well acquainted with history, I want to ask you—
Who is the Constable of the Tower?
What is his number?
Is he dressed like other constables?
Can he run anyone in, and make them move on if found loitering on his beat?
Is his beat all round the Tower?
Is he a special? one of the force de tour, empowered to use a tour de force? (You see I am well up in French.)
I saw a very amiable-looking policeman cracking nuts in the vicinity of the Tower. Do you think this was the constable in question?
Source: Gutenberg

Mr. Punch's Life in London

Life without cheer is like a cellar without beer.
A master without a cane is like a rider without the rein.
Marriage without means is like a horse without his beans.
A man without a wife is like a fork without a knife.
Source: Gutenberg

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