AN AFTER DINNER CONVERSATION. [From Punch.]

New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian, Volume V, Issue 335, 14 October 1848, Page 4

AN AFTER DINNER CONVERSATION. [From Punch.]

Colonel. SibbY, an English Gentleman and Member of Parliament. Mr. Benjamin Dizzy, ditto, ditto. Mr. Y. Dpodli?, a. Gentleman from Philadelphia. ', . ' * Mr. CufFEE',^ Delegate. Gentleman from Philadelphia. That cider we had a.\ dinner-was tarnation good, but d — your pickles, Colonel. Why, the istojpes on 'em 's fit to choke a body. ' !

Colonel. Cider! Pickles! The cider was champagne, aud the pickles are olives, Mr. Yankee. [Aside.] "What an ignorant sun of a gun it is ! Mr. Benjamin. I never could understand, Mr. Cuffee, why an olive should have been selected as an emblem of peace. It has an ungainly trunk, a scanty foliage, and a bitter fruit. It grows where no other trees will grow ; I have seen it, Sibby, lining the bleak hill sides of my native Syrian hills, and speckling the mangy mounds which they call hills in Attica. Brougham cultivates oil y9rds at his place in Provence — a comfortable box enough, where he and I have speared a boar many a time. But the Greeks were fools in their choice of imagery. They call an olive tree peaceful, which neither gives shade nor fruit fit to speak of; as they call an owl wise, which only knows how to whoop in the dark, and is a beast unfit for daylight. Peace is a palm tree, Wisdom is the sun. , Colonel. What the deuce are you a driving at, about suus, palm trees, owls, and em- I blems of peace ? Pass round the claret, Dizzy, and give Mr. Cuffee a glass. Cuffee. Thank ye, Colonel ; I ,stick to port. And yours is uncommon rich and strong, to be sure. My service to you, gents. I suppose now you aye a reglar fish and soup dinner, as we ad, and wine, every day ? Colonel. Ha, ha! Here's Mrs. Cuffee's health. Cvffee. Thank ye, gents. She's gone out engaged professionally, with Miss Martin, or I'm sure she would like to aye ad her legs under this maogany. What's the use of keeping the cloth on it? You ant ashamed on it, Colonel, are you ? Colonel. Good for wash,ing, you know. Ha, ha ! had him there. How are you off for soap 1 Has your mother sold her mangle ? Good for trade, don't you see ? Mr. Dizzy. We wrap up everything in this country, my worthy Cuffee. We put a wig on my Lord Chancellor's head as we do powder on the pate df that servant at whom I saw you winking at dinner. We call a man in the House an honourable gentleman : we dish up a bishop in an apron. We go to Court dressed in absurd old-fashioned bags and buckles. We are as lavish of symbols as the Papists, whom we are always abusiug for idol worship. And we grovel in old world ceremonies anJ superstitions of which we are too stupid to see the meaning, the folly, or the beauiy. Do you apprehend me, Cuffey ? Cuffee. I'll take a back-hand at the Port — bey, neighbour t American Gentleman (shrinking back). I wish that man of colour would know his place. Mr. Benjamin. You complain that the cloth is left for dessert ; why was it on at dinner ? The Colonel's soup would have been just as good on a deal table. Sibby. But where would Mrs. Cuffee and her mangle have been ?- No table-cloth, no washerwoman. Cvffee. Washin and luxuries be blowed, I say. What I want is that every man should have a bellyful, and (here's my health to you, Colonel) that there should be no superfluities. I say we aye ad victuals and drink enough to support twenty men. Look at this table and all, this your plate. This year gilt fork (don't be afraid, I ain't a going to prig it, Colonel) would keep a family for a week. You've got a dozen of 'em. Why should you 1 1 once ad two teaspoons marked with aC. ; but that was in appier times, and they are separated now. W T hy are you to aye two dozens ? What aye you done for 'em ? You toil not, neither neither do you spin. You ain't a Solomon in all your glory, certainly. You are no better than me ; why should you be better hoff? And not you only, but those that is higher than you. The time has come for doing away with these superfluities, and that's the great Principles of Freedom. Your health, Citizen. Mr. Dizzy. If our friend the Colonel had no security for his spoons, those articles, which are indeed very elegant, would lose half their worth. My horse may be worth twenty pounds in London now ; but if I am certain that the government will take possession of him to mount the cavalry, my tenure in the brute becomes hazardous, and his value instantly drops. And suppose you were to make a general distribution of all the spoons in the kingdom — what would happen next? He would exchange bis silver for bread ; that is, the man who had the most bread would come into possession of the most spoons, as now. You propose an absurdity, Mr. Cuffee. No : our friend and host has as good a right to his forks as to his teeth ; and may he long use both in the discussion of his meals. Mr. Cvffee. The law of man and nature is -^thtfea man shtfuld live, and that he is as good a^his neighbour. No honest Chartist wants your rights, he only wants his own. The Aristocracy have managed matters for us so badly ; have made themselves so rich and us,so poor, by managing for us, that now we're determined to manage for ourselves. We can't be worse —^ Mr, Dizzy. Yes, I say you can. I

Mr. Cvffee. I say again, we can't be worse ; ami that we ore the strongest, »nd mean to have it. We'll come down in the might of our millions, and say ws will be beard — we will be represented — we will be fed — or if not — Mr. Dizzy. That's your Convention talk, Cuffee — don't talk to us in that way. Sibby. No, no, you may wish it, and you may wish you may get it ; but since the 10th, I think that cock won't fight — Ay, my boy ? I say, wasn't that a glorious sight, Mr. Doodle, to see a people rally round their Queen in the way that the citizens did ? Gentlemanfrom P. Rally round the Qaeen 1 You would have had to go to Osborne to do that. Cvffee (with a satirical air). Where His Royal Highness, the Prince, was a taking care of Her Majesty. Dizzy. Pish ! The flag-staff was here, on Buckingham Palace arch, with the crown on the top — What matter that the flag was down? My dear sir, Monarchy is but a symbol, by which we represent Union, Order, and Property. Sibby. Our Glorious Constitution, dammy ! Dizzy. And we can rally round a stick just as well as a living sovereign. The times i are gone by when kings turned out with white panaches, and tilted against their enemies like so many dragoons. Would you have had Her Majesty, on a side-saddle, haranguing the police, and His Royal Highness the Prince carrying a baton ? Cuffee. He is a Field-Marshal, ain't he ? Sibby. Ha, ha! Had him there, Cuffee ! Dizzy. His Royal Highness is, so to speak, only an august ceremony. He is an attendant upon the Ark of the Monarchy; we put that out of danger when commotions menace us. Cvffee. If a stick would do as well as a sovereign, why not have one ? It don't cost as much — it neves dies. It might be kep in a box lined with erming, and have a stamp at the end to sign the warrants. And it might be done for less than four hundred thousand a year. Gentlemanfrom P. We can do it for less' in our country — our President, Mr. Polk, for instance. Dizzy. Your President, Mr. Polk, cost you a Mexican war ; how many millions of dollars is that ? If in this country we were to have an election every year, a struggle for the President's chair every three years, men taking advantage of the excitement of the day, and outbidding each other on the popular cry, we should lose, in mere money, ten times as much as the Sovereign costs us. Look ever the water at your beloved France, Mr. Cnffee. Cvffee. Veeve la liberty {drinks). Dizzy. They have already spent two hundred millions of our money in ge'ting rid of old Ulysses. What is the daily produce of a nation ? When Mr. Cuffee is professionally occupied, he earns — how much shall we say? Cuffee. Say five bob a day, you won't be far wrong ; and here's your health. Dizzy. He loses thirty shillings every week, then, that he does not work ; and either of free will or necessity spends it. If he does not work himself, if he prevents others from working, if he frightens customers, our worthy friend ties the hands of labour, and stops the growth of bread. Cvffee. You mean by all these grand phrases that there will be a convulsion, during which the labour of the country will stop temporary ? — of course there will. But then see how much better we shall be after, and how much freer to work ! Why, give us our six pints (and have 'em we will) and this country becomes a regular Eutropia. The Colonel. Explain — Mr. Cuffee — explain ! Cvffee. I will, gents, I will ; but the bottle's empty ; and, if you piease, John shall bring another, so as not to interrupt me. [The Colonel rinysfor more Wine.