قراءة كتاب Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 153, September 19, 1917

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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 153, September 19, 1917

Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 153, September 19, 1917

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PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

Vol. 153.


September 19, 1917.


CHARIVARIA.

There is no truth in the report that one of the most telling lines in the National Anthem is to be revised so as to read "Confound their Scandiknavish tricks."


Grave fears are expressed in certain quarters that the Stockholm Conference has been "spurlos versenkt."


Someone has stolen the clock from St. Winefride's Church, Wimbledon. We hope that the culprit has responded to the universal appeals in the newspapers which urged him to put the clock back on Sunday last.


An Englishwoman living in the East has a servant-girl who, when told about the War, remarked, "What war?" Another snub for the KAISER.


"A Vegetarian" writes to accuse Lord RHONDDA of reducing the price of meat on purpose.


Tube fares are to be raised. An alternative project of issuing special tickets, entitling the holder to standing room, was reluctantly abandoned.


The Thames, says a contemporary, has come into its own again as a holiday resort. Many riparian owners, on the other hand, are complaining that it has come into theirs.


A trades union of undertakers' mutes has been formed. Their first act, it is believed, will be to strike for a fifty-year life.


We have been asked to explain that the Second Division in which Mr. E.D. MOREL is now serving is not the one that fought at the battle of Mons.


Two escaped German prisoners have been arrested at Wokingham by a local grocer. The report that he charged twopence each for delivery is without foundation.


At Leith Hill, in Surrey, trees are being felled by a number of unescaped German prisoners.


"Beans running to seed," says an informative daily paper, "should be picked and the small beans extracted." But the old custom of lying in wait for them on the return journey and stunning them with a flail still retains many adherents in the slow-moving countryside.


"I am the father of sweeps," declared an elderly employer to the West Kent Tribunal. He afterwards admitted, however, that the secret correspondence of Count LUXBURG had not been brought to his notice.


Acting, explained an applicant to the House of Commons' Tribunal, is regarded by many as a work of national importance. The Tribunal have generously arranged for him to storm a few barns in Flanders.


Sixty-eight thousand persons, it is stated, have visited the maze at Hampton Court this season. Others have been content to stay at home and study the sugar regulations.


The admission fee to a concert recently held for the benefit of the Southwark Military Hospital was one egg. None of the gate money, it seems, reached the performers.


According to the Town Crier of Dover, who has just retired after fifty years' service, town crying isn't what it was before the War. People will listen to the bombs instead of attending to the properly constituted official.


A "History of the Russian Revolution" has been published. The pen may not be mightier than the sword to-day, but it manages to keep ahead of it.


A private in one of the London regiments has translated two hundred and fifty lines of Paradise Lost into Latin verse during a sixteen-day spell in the trenches. The introduction of some counter-irritant into our public school curriculum is now thought to be inevitable.


The crew of the U-boat interned at Cadiz, says a Madrid correspondent, have been allowed to land on giving their word of honour not to leave Spain during the continuance of the War. The mystery of how the word of honour came into their possession is not explained.


Further evidence of the success of the U-boat starvation campaign has been thoughtlessly afforded the German Press by a London newspaper which has announced that burglars are now using practically nothing but skeleton keys.


No one has yet found anything that will conquer the wire-worm, says Professor J.R. DUNSTAN. We feel that the Professor is unduly pessimistic. Has he tried the effect of writing a letter to The Daily Mail about it?


Things appear to be settling down in Mexico. Last week only one hundred of General CARRANZA'S men were annihilated by bandits.


The Berlin authorities have ordered a "Shaveless day." As a measure of frightfulness this is doomed to failure against an Army like ours with tanks which will eat their way through all sorts of entanglements.


Because an officer omitted to salute him, Field-Marshal VON HINDENBURG stopped his car and said, "I am HINDENBURG." We understand that the officer accepted the explanation.


"There is a scarcity of violins," says The Evening News. Some papers never know how to keep a secret.


Lundy Island has just been purchased by Mr. AUGUSTUS CHRISTIE, of North Devon. We are relieved to know it is still on the side of the Allies.


A grocer at Coalville, Leicestershire, riding a motor-bicycle without lights, is said to have offered two and a half pounds of sugar to a policeman to say nothing about it. Fortunately the constable, when he came out of his faint, remembered the number of the bicycle, and the man was summoned.


"YOU ON GUARD TO-NIGHT, NOBBY?" "NAW." "WOT YER BIN AN' WASHED YER FACE FOR, THEN?"


OFFICIAL RECTITUDE.

SWEDEN ON THE LUXBURG INCIDENT.

We cannot think that we're to blame.

We took the very natural view

That one who bore a German name

Would be as open as the blue;

Would bathe in sunlight, like a lark,

So different from the worm or weevil,

Those crawling things that love the dark

Because their deeds are evil.

We thought his cables just referred

To harmless matters such as crops,

The timber-market's latest word,

The local fashions in the shops,

To German trade and German bands,

And how in Argentine and Sweden

And all that's left of neutral lands

To build a German Eden.

True he employed a secret code,

But who would guess at guile in that?

Unless he used the cryptic mode

He couldn't be a diplomat;

He wished (we thought) to be discreet,

Telling his friends how frail and fair is

The exotic feminine you meet

In bounteous Buenos Aires.

Why, then, should mud be thrown so hard

At Stockholm's faith? She merely meant

To show a neighbourly regard

Towards a nice belligerent;

For peaceful massage she was made;

Aloof from martial animosities,

She yearns with fingers gloved in suède

To temper war's callosities.

Such courtesy (one would have said)

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