What is this your Punch hears of you?  Can’t you dissipate his fears? 
  Did the bugle ring out vainly for the British Grenadiers? 
  Once the regiment was famous for its deeds of derring-do,
  And you followed where the flag went when on alien winds it flew. 
  Has the soldiers’ “oath of duty” been forgotten, that you shirk,
  Not the face of foe, we’re certain, but this kit-inspecting work?

  You have trodden paths of glory (we have seen your banners fly)
  Where the murky smoke of battle gathered thickly o’er the sky;
  Can you thus besmirch the laurels that in other days you won,
  By forgetfulness of duties that by soldiers must be done? 
  Egad! my gallant lads, your Punch can scarce believe his ears,
  When he hears this shocking story of the British Grenadiers!

* * * * *

VOCES POPULI.

AT A DANCE.

    The Hostess is receiving her Guests at the head of the
    staircase; a Conscientiously Literal Man presents himself.

Hostess (with a gracious smile, and her eyes directed to the people immediately behind him). So glad you were able to come—­how do you do?

[Illustration]

The Conscientiously Literal Man.  Well, if you had asked me that question this afternoon, I should have said was in for a severe attack of malarial fever—­I had all the symptoms—­but, about seven o’clock this evening, they suddenly passed off, and—­

    [Perceives, to his surprise, that his Hostess’s attention
    is wandering, and decides to tell her the rest later in the
    evening.

Mr. Clumpsole.  How do you do, Miss THISTLEDOWN?  Can you give me a dance?

Miss Thistledown (who has danced with him before—­once).  With pleasure—­let me see, the third extra after supper?  Don’t forget.

Miss Brushleigh (to Major Erser).  Afraid I can’t give you anything just now—­but if you see me standing about later on, you can come and ask me again, you know.

Mr. Boldover (glancing eagerly round the room as he enters, and soliloquizing mentally).  She ought to be here by this time, if she’s coming—­can’t see her though—­she’s certainly not dancing.  There’s her sister over there with the mother.  She hasn’t come, or she’d be with them.  Poor-looking lot of girls here to-night—­don’t think much of this music—­get away as soon as I can, no go about the thing!...  Hooray!  There she is, after all!  Jolly waltz this is they’re playing!  How pretty she’s looking—­how pretty all the girls are looking!  If I can only get her to give me one dance, and sit out most of it somewhere!  I feel as if I could talk to her to-night.  By Jove, I’ll try it!

    [Watches his opportunity, and is cautiously making his way
    towards his divinity, when he is intercepted.