RUS IN URBE
Reading edition
(A Cockney Rhapsody)
As I stroll through Piccadilly, Scent of blossoms borne from Scilly Greet me. Jonquil, rose, and lily, Violet and daffydowndilly. Oh, the feeling sweet and thrilly That these blossoms flounced and frilly From soft plains and headlands hilly Bring my breast in Piccadilly! It subdues me, willy nilly, Though such sentiment seems silly, And a bunch, dear, buys your Willy, To dispatch, by post, to Milly, Dwelling, far from Piccadilly, In moist lowlands, rushed and rilly, Blossomy as Penzance or Scilly. Sweets to the sweet! "Poor Silly-Billy!" You may say in accents trilly. When the postman in the stilly Eve, from distant Piccadilly, Bears this box of rose and lily, Violet and daffodilly, To the rural maiden, Milly, From her urban lover, Willy. P.S.— Dry as toke and skilly, Is this arid Piccadilly, Notwithstanding rose and lily, All the beauteous blooms of Scilly, Reft of that flower of flowers—Milly. So, at least, thinks "Silly Billy."
A Cockney's Exclamation upon seeing the celebrated Heidelberg Ton.— "Well, it is (s)ton-ning!"
NATURAL HISTORY NOTES
Country Cousin. "Lor, Bill, ain't that a horstrich?"
Bill. "Horstrich? 'Corse not. That 'ere's a mongoose!"
SHAKESPEARE ON BLACKHEATH
I saw young 'Arry with his billycock on, Checked trousers on his thighs, with knob stick armed, Climb from the ground like fat pig up a pole, And flop with such sore toil into his saddle As though a bran-bag dropped down from the clouds, To turn and wind a slow "Jerusalem," And shock the world with clumsy assmanship.
'Arry's Latest Conundrum.—Why is a title-page like charity?—Becos it always begins a tome. (Begins at 'ome, don'tcher see!)
Cockney Friend. "Good 'evins! there's a pheasant!"
Country Friend. "Well, what of it?"
Cockney. "Why, it ain't the fust of Hoctober?"
Lady Visitor (at work-girls' club, giving some advice on manners). "And you know ladies never speak to gentlemen without an introduction."
'Liza. "We knows yer don't, miss, an' we offen pities yer!"
AN IDYLL
Hemma. "Oh, 'Arry, hain't this 'eavenly! You'll promise to give me 'am sandwiches always, when we're married, won't yer?"
'Arry. "'Corse I will!"
First Workman. "Why don't yer buy yer own matches, 'stead of always cadgin' mine?"
Second Workman. "You're uncommon mean with yer matches. I'll just take a few"—(helps himself to two-thirds)—"and be hinderpendent of yer!"
ERRAND BOYS
First Boy. "Where are yer goin' to, Bill?"
Second Boy. "I've got to go right over 'Ammersmith Bridge to Barnes, then I'se got to go to Putney and back by Fulham Road, then to 'Igh Street, Kensington.
First Boy. "Why, I've got to go to 'Igh Street. You go on. I'm in a bit of a hurry, but I'll wait for yer!"
Most Musical, Most Melancholy.—A Cockney gentleman who had been hearing a concert of old music, where every piece that was performed was in the programme termed an "op.," observed, as he went out, "Well, after all these 'ops, I vote we have some malt."
Cockneyism in the Country.—1st Cockney. I say, what sort of a 'ouse will do for a fowl-'ouse?
2nd Cockney. Lor' bless yer, hen-ny 'ouse.
Conundrum for Cockneys.—Which has the greater amount of animal heat, the beaver or the otter? Why, of course, the otter of the two.
SONG OF THE COCKNEY SPORTSMAN
How happy could I be in heather, At the grouse gaily blazing away! But then, somehow, I can't touch a feather, So 'tis better at Brighton to stay.
Pro Bono.—There is one first-rate joint that comes to table which is the Cockney's prime aversion—the h-bone.
A Model Model.
(The artist is rather shy, and has left his model to do the honours of his studio). "From whom did Mr. M'Gilp paint that head?"
"From yours obediently, madam. I sit for the 'eads of all 'is 'oly men."
"He must find you a very useful person."
"Yes, madam. I order his frames, stretch his canvases, wash his brushes, set his palette, and mix his colours. All he's got to do is just to shove 'em on!"
Tripper. "'Ere! 'Arf a mo'! Where's the change out o' that bob I gave yer?"
Bystander. "Don't worry about it, cocky; ain't you got the bloomin' 'oss as security!"
Holiday Driver (returning from a pic-nic). "Excuse me, sir, but can you see anything wrong with the 'arness of this 'ere 'orse?"
Sportsmen at Sea.
(Tom exhibiting a tern which he has shot). I say, 'Arry, wot bird 's this 'ere?
'Arry. A auk, I should say.
Tom. What yer calls a sparrerawk?
'Arry. No. Hay, u, k, auk, without the sparrer.
A COCKNEY'S EPITAPH
Think! "From the cradle to the grave!" my brother, A nurse takes you from one, an 'earse to t'other.
A Vulgar Error.—Misplacing the haspirate.
A Chevalieresque Conundrum.—Coster Bill (to 'Arriet). I si! When is your young man like a fish out of water?
'Arriet. Oh, g'long! Give't up.
Coster Bill. Why, when 'es a witin' round the corner.
[Short encounter, and exeunt severally.
A Capital Answer.
"Self-made" Man (examining school, of which he is a manager). "Now, boy, what's the capital of 'Olland?"
Boy. "An 'H,' sir."
DISCOVERED IN DRURY LANE
(Near the new Baker Street Lodging House established by the County Council.)
I 'old it true wote'er befall, I feel it when things go most cross, Better do a fi'penny doss, Than never do a doss at all!
University Sympathy.
First Errand Boy (after the University Boat Race). Wot 'ave yer got a light blue ribbon in yer button 'ole for, Tommy?
Second E. B. (promptly). 'Cos our 'ouse allus sells Cambridge sausages!
A Matter of Taste.
Vulgar Parvenu (who is watching the interior decorations of his house). "Don't you think that tapestry 'eats the rooms?"
Artistic Decorator. "Very possibly, sir; you see, it's Goblin (Gobelin)."
The Irrepressible.
Street Boy (to cabby, in a block). "Look 'ere, are you a goin' on wi' this four wheeler?—'r else me an' my friend 'll get down an' walk!"
[Retires hastily.
Audacious 'Arryism.—Our friend 'Arry objects to the title of a recently published novel, "Airy Fairy Lilian." He says that he can't imagine a fairy all over 'air, though he might an 'obgoblin.
THE BAGMAN'S BAG
Hark how the cockney sportsman drops His aitches o'er the glades and glens, But, at hen pheasents though he pops, Your 'Arry never drops his n's.
A Pair of "Nippers."—A coster's twins.
Cockney Classics.
"Jack," said Robins, "which varsity would you rayther go to, Hoxford or 'Idleberg?"
"Hoxford, Jemmy, to be sure, you muff," answered Robbins. "'Cos vy, I prefers hindustry to hidleness."
A Bank Holiday Reminiscence.
'Arry. "Ow much an hour, guv'nor?"
Horsekeeper. "Eighteenpence."
'Arry. "All right. I'll have a ride."
Horsekeeper. "Well, you've got to leave 'arf a crown on the 'orse?"
POOR LETTER "H"
"Have you got any whole strawberry jam?"
"No, miss. All ours is quite new!"
SONGS OF THE SUMMER
"The weather seems to be improving, Nupkins!"
"Yes, miss; the nightingale and the cuckoo is a-'ollerin', every night!"
'ARRY ON 'ORSEBACK
Our 'Arry goes 'unting and sings with a will, "The 'orn of the 'unter is 'eard on the 'ill"; And oft, when a saddle looks terribly bare, The 'eels of our 'Arry are seen in the air!
Cockney Epitaph for a Cook.—"Peace to his hashes."
"A Horse," observed a Scotch vet., "may have a very good appetite, and yet be unable to eat a bit."
"Ah," said 'Arry, "there's the difference between a 'oss and a ostridge, which could eat bit, snaffle, curb and all."
Le Sport.
A Cockney sportsman, wishing to introduce hare-hunting into France, is seriously meditating a work on the subject, to be entitled, Arrière-pensées; or, Thoughts on Keeping 'Ariers. His nom de plume will be Le petit Jean du Jockey Club.
'Arriet (as a bee alights on her hand). "My word, 'Arry, wot a pretty fly!"
(Sting.)
"Crikey! ain't 'is feet 'ot!"
"'Ullo, Jim, look 'ere! 'Ere's a noo stachoo! Lend us yer knife!"
Jinks. "I want to buy a dog. I don't know what they call the breed, but it is something the shape of a greyhound, with a short curly tail and rough hair. Do you keep dogs like that?"
Fancier. "No. I drowns 'em!"
Cockney Philosophy.
The Socratic mode of argument is the only true mode of chopping logic, because it proceeds altogether on the principle of axing questions.
'Arry puts 'em right.
The Daily Chronicle—recently suggested that the plural of rhinoceros is a disputed point. 'Arry writes: "What O, Mr. P., 'disputed'?—not a bit. Any kiddy as 'as 'ad 'arf an eddication knows what the plural of ''oss' is, don't he? No matter as to its bein' spelt ''os' or ''oss.' Plural, anyway ''osses.' 'Bus-'os'—'Bus-'osses.' 'Rhinocer-os'—'Rhinocer-osses.' That's as plain as an 'aystack, ain't it?
"Yours,
'Arry."
Definition for a Diner-out.—An unlicensed wittler, quoth our worthy 'ost.—'Arry.
FERVOUR IN THE FOG
Unpromising Individual (suddenly—his voice vibrating with passion).
"She's moy unney; Oim 'er joy!"
"Ah!" exclaimed, enthusiastically, a hairdresser's assistant who had been out for a holiday. "'Ind 'Ead, in Surrey! That's the place for hair!"
The Real London Pride.—We know an inveterate Cockney who declares that London milk beats the country milk, and beats it "by many chalks."
Good Paper for Deaf Cockneys.—The 'Earer.
The Musical Coster Craze.—Customer. Have you a copy of Costa's Eli?
Shopman. No, sir; we have none of Chevalier's songs.
"I say, 'Arry, don't we look frights!"
"I say, Bill, oo was this 'ere Nelson as everybody wos a talkin' about?" "Why, 'e was the chap as turned the French out of Trafalgar Square!"
"Bill, can you lend me twopence?"
"Wot a silly question to arst! Why, if I 'ad twopence, wot 'ud I be doin' standin' outside a public 'ouse?"