Mr. Punch's Railway Book Part 24

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MAIDEN'S PRAYER

A sketch at Aldersgate Street Station]

[Ill.u.s.tration: OBSTRUCTIONISTS IN A SMOKING CARRIAGE]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

TERMINUS TRIOLETS

_At Charing Cross._

To Paris by the tidal train.

Here, register this luggage, quick!

Why, all the world seems going, Jane, To Paris by the tidal train.

It's blowing quite a hurricane; I hope, my love, you won't be sick.

To Paris by the tidal train.

Here, register this luggage, quick!

_At Euston._

By Jove, I've run it precious near, Was ever "hansom"-horse so slow!

Look sharp, now, porter, for it's clear, By Jove, I've run it precious near.

Holloa!--that gun-case--hand it here, The hat-box in the van can go.

By Jove, I've run it precious near!

Was ever "hansom"-horse so slow!

_At Liverpool Street._

Six wholes, three halves, all second cla.s.s.

The baby, mind, you might have killed her.

Oh, policeman, please to let us pa.s.s!

Six wholes, three halves, all second cla.s.s, To Yarmouth. What a madd'ning ma.s.s Of people. Do come on, Matilda.

Six wholes, three halves, all second cla.s.s.

The baby, mind, you might have killed her.

_At Victoria._

Two first, return, to Brighton, please.

Oh, yes--we'll go in Pullman's car.

I like to travel at my ease; Two first, return, to Brighton, please.

We're running down to breathe the breeze, I can't from business go too far.

Two first, return, to Brighton, please.

Oh, yes--we'll go in Pullman's car.

_At Paddington._

Guard, mark "Engaged" this carriage, pray; Now, why on earth's the fellow grinning?

How could he know we're wed to-day?

Guard, mark "Engaged" this carriage, pray.

My darling, hide that white bouquet; My head with champagne fumes is spinning.

Guard, mark "Engaged" this carriage, pray.

Now, why on earth's the fellow grinning?

_At Waterloo._

Good-bye my boy; just one kiss more; You'll write to mother now and then?

A sign from sea is sweet on sh.o.r.e, Good-bye, my boy; just one kiss more.

Nay, don't you cry, dear, I implore, Red eyes are never meant for men.

Good-bye, my boy; just one kiss more; You'll write to mother now and then?