Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Echo. 'Opper!_
_Inquirer._ (Meaning the _Pulex_.) Answers she politely?
_Echo. Lightly._
_Inquirer._ How then am I inclined to view the mater?
_Echo. 'Ate her._
_Inquirer._ What feel I when she hints at sea-side clothing?
_Echo. Loathing._
_Inquirer._ Mention of what makes all my family scoffers?
_Echo. Coffers._
_Inquirer._ Then if I storm, what word breaks sequent stillness?
_Echo. Illness!_
_Inquirer._ What feels a man when women 'gin to blubber?
_Echo. Lubber._
_Inquirer._ What is the show of patience that may follow?
_Echo. Hollow!_
_Inquirer._ What would the s.e.x when it a.s.sumes that virtue?
_Echo. Hurt you._
_Inquirer._ What's the result of halting and misgiving?
_Echo. Giving._
_Inquirer._ What is man's share anent this yearly yearning?
_Echo. Earning._
_Inquirer._ What's the chief issue of this seaward flowing?
_Echo. Owing._
_Inquirer_. How long before I'm free of tradesmen's pages?
_Echo. Ages!_
THE MOORS.
Our c.o.c.kney correspondent says that the birds are very wild, and that the heath being extremely slippery, the attempt to run after them is apt to be attended with numerous falls, especially in patent-leather boots.
He says the exercise is fatiguing in the extreme, and complains that there are no cabs to be had on the hills though there are plenty of flies.
DOUBLE c.o.c.kNEY CONUNDRUM FOR THE DERBY DAY.--"What eminent composer would in England have probably been 'in the ring'?"
"_'Aydn._"
"Why?"
"Because who ever 'eard of 'Aydn alone? Ain't it always a '_Aydn and abettin_'? Eh? Now then! Come up, can't yer!"
[Ill.u.s.tration: EUPHEMISM.
_Cab Tout (exasperated by the persistent attentions of constable)._ "Look 'ere, ole lightnin'-ketcher, w'ere the missin' word are yer shovin' us to?"]
[Ill.u.s.tration: _Coster (to acquaintance, who has been away for some months)._ "Wot are yer bin doin' all this time?"
_(Bill Robbins who has been "doing time")._ "Oh I've bin wheelin' a bit, ole man--wheelin' a bit!"]
[Ill.u.s.tration: HE THOUGHT HE WAS SAFE.
_Irascible Old Gentleman._ "Buy a comb! What the devil should I buy a comb for? You don't see any hair on my head, do you?"
_Unlicensed Hawker._ "Lor' bless yer, sir!--yer don't want no 'air on yer 'ead for a tooth-comb!!"]
[Ill.u.s.tration: A QUESTION OF TASTE
_Liz (to Emily)._ "Mind yer, it's all roight so fur as it goes. All I sez is, it wants a fevver or two, or a bit o' plush somewhares, to give it what I call _stoyle_!"]
THE LAND OF THE 'ARRY'UNS.--'Am'stead 'eath.
When a vulgar husband drops his h's, a good wife drops her eyes.
