Mr. Punch's Railway Book Part 2

[Ill.u.s.tration:

SMOKING COMPARTMENT

WAIT TILL THE TRAIN STOPS

THIRD CLa.s.s. TO SEAT SIX

UNDERGROUND STUDIES]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE UNDERGROUND RAILWAYS]

_Stoker._ "Wery sorry to disturb yer at supper, ladies, but could yer oblige me with a scuttle o' coals for our engine, as we've run short of 'em this journey?"

REPARTEES FOR THE RAILWAY

"No smoking allowed." Of course, but I am going to enjoy my cigar in silence.

"Want the window closed." Very sorry, but I can't find a cathedral.

"Find my journal a nuisance." Dear me! was under the impression it was a newspaper.

"Allow you to pa.s.s." Afraid only the Secretary can manage that for you; he alone has power to issue free tickets.

"Do I mind the draught?" Not when I am attending to the chessman.

"Do I know the station?" Of the people on the platform? Probably lower middle cla.s.s.

"Is this right for Windsor?" Yes, if it's not left for somewhere else.

"Are we allowed five minutes for lunch?" Think not; but you can have sandwiches at the counter.

"Isn't this first-cla.s.s?" Quite excellent--first-rate--couldn't be better!

"I want to go second." Then you had better follow me.

"I am third." Indeed! And who were first and second.

"I think this must be London." Very likely, if it is, it mustn't be anywhere else.

THE WAY OF THE WHIRLED.--The rail-way.

"VERY HARD LINES."--The railways.

[Ill.u.s.tration: RAILWAY AMALGAMATION--A PLEASANT STATE OF THINGS]

_Pa.s.senger._ "What's the matter, guard?"

_Guard (with presence of mind)._ "Oh, nothing particular, sir. We've only run into an excursion train!"

_Pa.s.senger._ "But, good gracious! there's a train just behind us, isn't there?"

_Guard._ "Yes, sir! But a boy has gone down the line with a signal; and it's very likely they'll see it!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: METROPOLITAN RAILWAY TYPES.

The party that _never_ says, "Thank The party that _always_ says, you!" "Thank you!"

When you open the door, shut the window, or give up your seat for her.]

THE THIRD-CLa.s.s TRAVELLER'S PEt.i.tION

(1845)

Pity the sorrows of a third-cla.s.s man, Whose trembling limbs with snow are whitened o'er, Who for his fare has paid you all he can: Cover him in, and let him freeze no more!

This dripping hat my roofless pen bespeaks, So does the puddle reaching to my knees; Behold my pinch'd red nose--my shrivell'd cheeks: You should not have such carriages as these.

In vain I stamp to warm my aching feet, I only paddle in a pool of slush; My stiffen'd hands in vain I blow and beat; Tears from my eyes congealing as they gush.

Keen blows the wind; the sleet comes pelting down, And here I'm standing in the open air!

Long is my dreary journey up to Town, That is, alive, if ever I get there.

Oh! from the weather, when it snows and rains, You might as well, at least, defend the poor; It would not cost you much, with all your gains: Cover us in, and luck attend your store.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A CAUTION

No wonder Miss Lavinia St.i.tchwort thought the people very rude at the station when she went for her "water-proof" (which she had lost on the railway some time before). She found out when she got home she had not removed the "unclaimed property" label!]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Nervous Party._ "The train seems to be travelling at a fearful pace, ma'am."