Summary

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

There is laughter on age-shrivelled lips, and the eyes of mere babies are bold
With the confidence born but of love. Even imbeciles, helpless and blind,
Shut out at each sense from full life, yet can feel unseen tendance is kind,
And sit silently placid, or burst into song of a heart-searching sort—
Muffled speech from unplumbed spirit-depths, yet inspired by the impulse of sport.
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

A Guy in a Blue Mask, who carried a placard bearing the name of the Ex-Premier, described the remarks of both his brother Guys as pestilent drivel. It was not clothes that made the Guy. A Guy was a Guy in any guise! (Loud cheers.) But no Guy ever rose in the world yet without combustibles of some sort inside him, and how many of them ever knew what it was to get their fill of crackers? They were starving amidst an abundance of squibs! Society was responsible, and must be forced to do its duty.
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

But the helpless Five Hundred still swell, and the Sisterhood feel sorest need
Of enlarging their borders and branches. The children especially swarm,
And for every poor, pale, helpless mite, who can here find a pallet and form,
Home, food, clothing, schooling, life-settlement, love, there are hundreds for whom
And their piteous appeal the response must unwillingly come, "No more room!",
Room, not in their hearts but their wards is this unselfish Sisterhood's lack
Source: Gutenberg

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