Summary

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

Can't you praise my pill?
Dr. Herd. (struggles with himself) . I—I cannot. You should not attempt to compound pills on your own account.
Rübub (breathing laboriously) . And yet there was a time when you, too——
Dr. Herd. (complacently) . Yes, it was certainly a pill that came as a lucky stepping-stone—but not a pill like that!
Rübub (vehemently) . Listen! Is that your last word? Is my aged mother to pass out of this world without ever knowing whether I am competent to construct an effective pill or not?
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

Can't find Mellor. 'You take the Chair,' says the Squire; 'you'll fill it admirably.' No time for hesitation; I take the Chair; Clerk claps Bill into my hand. I say, 'Question is, that I do report progress, and ask leave to sit again.' Shouts of 'Aye,' and 'No.' 'I think the Ayes have it,' I say, in deep chest-notes, with persuasive fall of eyebrows. 'The Noes have it!' they shout. Very well; first duty of Chairman is to be impartial; so I say, 'The Noes have it.' Again they roar with laughter. Woodall, in charge of Bill, feels for sword of Financial Secretary to War Office.
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

Natural! For a girl of twenty-three to taunt a middle-aged architect, whom she knew to be constitutionally liable to giddiness, never to let him have any peace till he had climbed a spire as dizzy as himself—and all for the fun of seeing him fall off—how in the world——!
Mrs. Herd. (laying the table for supper with dried fish and punch) . The younger generation have a keener sense of humour than we elder ones, Haustus, and perhaps, after all, she was only a perplexing sort of allegory.
Source: Gutenberg

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