Summary

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

Lord Hothfield proudly leaves your ranks, the Carlton takes him in;
Behold him in the whist-saloon enjoying of his game.
Some men are led by blighted hopes to leave the ancient fold,
And some by mere conviction, and some by thirst for fame;
And some because the Government were far too fond of gold;
Lord Hothfield quits the Radicals because he wants a game.
A quiet game his Lordship loves; ex-Radical and peer,
With what a wealth of irony he puts his foes to shame
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

Better lie, like Sheridan, with Wit in the gutter, than perch, like H——y, with Dulness on the Woolsack!
Mr. Neverout. Egad! Miss Notable has wit at will.
Miss Notable. And Mr. Neverout would be Echo, were he not Narcissus.
Lady Smart. Humph! We've had the "humour" and the "politeness," now for the eloquence.
Mr. Neverout.
"Chloe, of every coxcomb jealous,
Admires how girls can talk with fellows."
Miss Notable.
In dinner's blanks, in dancing's whirls,
The fellows cannot talk with girls.
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

On another bench facing them sat a cherry-cheeked maiden of some nineteen summers, evidently an elder sister in charge of a little brother, with whom in a shy sort of way, as if old enough to know better, and yet unable to resist the temptation, she was sharing, with very evident relish, some succulent toffy recently extracted from one of the many "penny-in-the-slot" machines, which, as "bits of colour," are such brilliant ornaments to the Torrs Walks, and such universal favourites with youth of all ages.
Source: Gutenberg

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