The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 152, June 27, 1917, by Various, Edited by Owen Seaman

Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 152, June 27, 1917

Author: Various

Editor: Owen Seaman

Release Date: June 23, 2005 [eBook #16113]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 152, JUNE 27, 1917***

E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, Keith Edkins,
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
(http://www.pgdp.net)

PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

Vol. 152.

June 27th, 1917.

CHARIVARIA.

The favourite reading of the Sultan of Turkey is said to be criminal literature. A gift-book in the shape of a new Life of the Kaiser is about to be despatched to him.

King Alexander of Greece originally proclaimed that he would "carry out his father's sacred mandate." But when it was pointed out to him that, if this was really his desire, an opportunity of following in his father's footsteps would doubtless be granted him, he tried again.

During the last air raid we are told that the employees of one large firm started singing "Dixie Land." We feel, however, that to combat the enemy's aircraft much sterner measures must be adopted.

"The Huns' diet is low," says a correspondent of The Daily Mail. But then their tastes are low too.

Writing of the recent Trentino offensive, Mr. Hamilton Fyfe says that several Austrian forts captured by the Italians were built of solid ice. It is time that London had some defences of this character.

The arrival of ex-King Tino at Lugubrioso, on the Swiss-Italian frontier, has been duly noted.

The Lord Mayor of London has decided in future to warn the City of impending air raids. Ringing the dinner-bell at the Mansion House, it is thought, is the best way of making City men take to their covers.

A new epidemic, of which "bodily swellings" are the first symptom, is reported by the German papers. And just when the previous epidemic of head-swellings was beginning to subside.

A Marylebone boy, arrested for forgery, told the police that he had made two complete £1 notes out of paper bags. Is this the paper-bag cookery of which we have heard so much?

A market gardener told the Enfield Tribunal that a conscientious objector whom he had employed was found asleep at his work on two successive days. People with highly-strung consciences very rarely enjoy this natural and easy slumber.

The American scientist who claims to have invented a substitute for tobacco cannot have followed the movement of the age. We have been able to obtain twopenny cigars in this country for years.

An applicant who said he had six children has been given six months' exemption. A member of the Tribunal remarked that the exemption would mean one month for each child. This great discovery proved too much for the poor fellow, who is said to have collapsed immediately.

A new ship is being fitted out for Captain Amundsen, who is to proceed shortly with an Arctic exploration party. In case he should discover any new land, arrangements have been made to hold a flag-day for the inhabitants, if any.

Judging by the latest reports the Stockholm Conference is like the gun that they didn't know was loaded.

Because his wife accused him of not loving her, a farmer of Husavik, Manitoba, assaulted her with a pen-knife just to show that he did.

Special "storm troops"—men picked for their youth, vigour and daring, to carry out counter-attacks—are now a feature of the German Armies. Even our ordinary British soldiers, who are constantly compelled to take these brave fellows prisoners, bear witness to the ferocity of their appearance.

Taxes on watering-places, it is announced, will be a feature of the new French Budget. It is feared that this will bear hardly on breweries and dairies.

We are not permitted to publish the name of the Foreign Office official who strolled into a Piccadilly Bar last week and ordered a Clam-Martinic cocktail.

According to a report of the National Physical Laboratory the Tower of London is moving towards the Thames. The hot weather is thought to have something to do with it.

The Board of Agriculture advises the killing of all old cocks and hens. Lively competition between the railway refreshment rooms and the tyre factories should ensure a satisfactory price.

The High Court at the Hague has ordered a new trial in the case of the Editor of the Telegraaf, who was sentenced for referring to "a group of rascals in the centre of Europe." The rascality of the persons in question is now deemed to be proved beyond the shadow of a doubt.

The announcement that there will be no more Sunday music at the Zoo has been received with satisfaction by the more conservative residents, who have always complained that the presence of a band tended to reduce the place to the level of a mere circus.

A well-known inn at Effingham having changed its name from the Blücher to the Sir Douglas Haig, it is further suggested that the name of the village should be changed to Biffingham.

"Ay, poor old Ben's rooined by the war. All 'is yarns wos about above-sea pirates!"

How to Cure a Wound.

"A wounded soldier jumped or fell from a passing S.E.R. Red Cross train between Swanley Junction and Bromley to-day. The train was running at about twenty miles an hour. When picked up the man was found to be uninjured."—Evening Paper.

TITLE AND HALF-TITLE PAGES.

With a view to economy of paper, the title and half-title pages of the Volume which is completed with the present issue are not being delivered with copies of Punch as hitherto; they will however be sent free, by post, upon receipt of a request.

Those readers who have their Volumes bound at the Punch Office, or by other binders in the official binding-cases, will not need to apply for copies of the title and half-title pages, as these will be bound in by the Punch Office or supplied direct to other binders along with the cases.

ALGY.

Algy, it must be admitted, is no Adonis, but at least there is something in his great round pudding-face and his cheery idiotic smile which gives one the impression of a warm and optimistic nature.

Algy is humble and not ambitious; but for all that he is doing his bit, just as you and I are doing. He never goes on strike, and if he had any money, which he never does have, I know he would invest it in War Loan. Above all he is not a food-hog; not for him the forbidden potato or the millionaire's beer—no! Against all luxuries Algy has resolutely steeled his voluminous tummy. He has turned into the strictest of teetotalers, and, though a glass of Scotch