[Illustration: DISTRACTIONS OF CAMP LIFE.
Tommy (by roadside). “OUT ON THE SPREE AGAIN? GOING TO THE PICTURES?”
Highlander. “NO. WE’RE AWA’ TO SEE YOUR LOT CHANGE GUARD.”]
* * * * *
“The Motor Cycle
says over 165,000 magnates have been made in Britain
for war purposes.”—Provincial
Paper.
And the New Year Honours List (political services) has yet to appear.
* * * * *
“We owed all this more
to our splendid navy and its silent virgil than
to anything else.”—Provincial
Paper.
We suppose the CENSOR won’t let him narrate the epic exploits of the Fleet, but he might have allowed him a capital initial.
* * * * *
“Surbiton residents
have supplied for British prisoners in Germany 800
waistcoats made from 2,100
old kid gloves.” Manchester Evening
News.
A notable instance of large-handed generosity.
* * * * *
SIX VILE VERBS.
(To the makers of journalese, and others, from a fastidious reader.)
When I see on a poster
A programme which “features”
CHARLIE CHAPLIN and other
Delectable creatures,
I feel just as if
Someone hit me a slam
Or a strenuous biff
On the mid diaphragm.
When I read in a story,
Though void of offences,
That somebody “glimpses”
Or somebody “senses,”
The chord that is struck
Fills my bosom with ire,
And I’m ready to chuck
The whole book in the fire.
When against any writer
It’s urged that he “stresses”
His points, or that something
His fancy “obsesses,”
In awarding his blame
Though the critic be right,
Yet I feel all the same
I could shoot him at sight.
But (worst of these horrors)
Whenever I read
That somebody “voices”
A national need,
As the Bulgars and Greeks
Are abhorred by the Serb,
So I feel toward the freaks
Who employ this vile verb.
* * * * *
“Some of the public men of Rawmarsh have high ambitions for their township, and at the Council meeting on Wednesday there was considerable industrial developments immediately after the war.” Botherham Advertiser.
Happy Rawmarsh! In our part of the country it is not over yet.
* * * * *
“NAVY Pram. for Sale, good condition.” Provincial Paper.
Just the thing to prepare baby for being “rocked in the cradle of the deep.”
* * * * *
THE SUPER-CHAR.
SCENE.—A square in
Kensington. At every other door is seen the lady
of the house at work with pail, broom, scrubbing-brush,
rags,
metal-polish, etc.