Punch, or the London Charivari

f I might, vith dime, bersuade myzelf to gare-- Bot nevare mit no ogly bipes vill I avection share!" (Pause, and glance round your audience with a slightly pained air.) I dink I hear zom laty make a symbathetic shniff-- You Englisch shendlevomens dreats a shmoker var too shtiff! For look--meinzelf I shmoke a bipe, mit baintings on ze bowl, I shtoffs him vith dat sheepstabak vat's dwisted in a roll, I gif my vort it ton't daste pad--zough yust a leedle veak-- Shtill, ven I schmokes inzide a drain,--I vinds zom laties seeck! (Amiable surprise, as you mention this instance of insular intolerance.) Bot, zere, you makes me chadderbox, and dakes op all my dime! I vant to dell you how mein vriend behafed himself sooblime: "If you vill pe mein Braut," he zaid, "tobaggo I'll renounce, And shvear to nefer puy no more von solidary ounce!" Zo she gif him out her lily hand, and shmile on him zo shveet: "Vith sodge a sagrifice," she zaid, "you brove your lôf indeet! And I dakes you--on your zolem vo