Read Ebook: Punch or the London Charivari Volume 153 September 19 1917 by Various

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VOL. 153.

SEPTEMBER 19, 1917.

CHARIVARIA.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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 su?de To temper war's callosities.

O.S.

THE PRUDENT ORATOR.

"The Premier was accompanied by Mrs. Lloyd George and his laughter."

"Our new nippers are beginning to squeeze to some tune in France and Belgium."

Try a little oil.

We print the following letter:--

"DEAR SIR,--This morning I was reading your edition dated September 5, 1917. In the 'Charivaria' I saw an article in which you proclaimed the North Pole to be the only territory that has not had its neutrality violated by the Huns. I beg to draw your attention to the South Pole.

"I remain, yours sincerely,

"A WOUNDED TOMMY."

WASHOUT.

We had hardly settled down to Mess when an orderly, armed with a buff slip, shot through the door, narrowly missed colliding with the soup, and pulled up by Grigson's chair. Grigson is our Flight Commander--one of those rugged and impenetrable individuals who seem impervious to any kind of shock. There is a legend that on one occasion four machine-gun bullets actually hit him and bounced off, which gave the imitative Hun the idea of armour-plating his machines.

Lieutenant Maude, commonly known by a loose association of ideas as Toddles, buried a heightened complexion in a plate of now tepid soup. Someone having pulled him out and wiped him down, he was understood to remark that he would have preferred longer notice, as it had been his intention that night to achieve a decisive victory in the Flight ping-pong tournament.

"Oh, but, Toddles," came a voice, "think how pleased old Fritz will be to see you. You'll miss the garden party, but you'll be in nice time for the fire-works--Verey lights and flaming onions and pretty searchlights. Don't you love searchlights, Toddles?"

Toddles stretched out an ominous hand towards the siphon, and was only deterred from his fell intention by the entry of the C.O.

Toddles was exactly halfway through his fish.

Whether it was that his more fastidious taste in architecture detained him I do not know, but it was fully ten minutes after the others had landed before we who were watching on the aerodrome became aware that Toddles was coming home to roost. The usual signals were exchanged, and Toddles finished up a graceful descent by making violent contact with the ground, bouncing seven times and knocking over two flares before finally coming to rest. His machine appeared to be leaning on its left elbow in a slightly intoxicated condition.

"Bust the V strut," said Toddles cheerfully. We assured him that one would hardly notice it. Grigson meanwhile had been examining the under carriage with scientific care, and turned to ask him how he had got on.

"Bong," said Toddles, beaming; "absolutely bong. They spotted us, but Archie was off colour."

"Did you see your pills burst?"

Toddles beamed more emphatically than ever. "One in what I took to be the station yard, one right on the line, and one O.K. ammunition truck; terrific explosion--nearly upset me. Three perfectly good shots."

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