Page:Punch (Volume 147).pdf/384

338

[The Germans have taken a strong objection to the French 75m/m gun.]



No more the town discusses
 * The Halls and what will win;
 * Now stifled are the wags' tones
 * On Piccadilly's flagstones,

And half the motor-buses
 * Have started for Berlin.

New eyes to war adapting
 * We stare at the Gazette;
 * Yon eager-faced civilian,
 * When posters flaunt vermilion

And boys say "Paper, capting,"
 * Replies "Not captain—yet."

"Remains," I asked, "no station
 * Of piping peace and sport?
 * Oh yes. Though kings may tumble,
 * No howitzers can rumble,

No sounds but cachinnation
 * Can boom from Court.

"That garden of the Graces
 * Can hear no cannon roar;
 * From that dear island valley
 * No bruit of arms can sally,

But men must burst their braces
 * With laughter as of yore.

"While dogs of war are snarling
 * His wit shall sweep away
 * Bellona's ominous vapour;"
 * Therefore I bought a paper

To see what Justice
 * Happened to have to say.

In vain his humour sortied,
 * In vain with spurts of glee
 * Like field-guns on the trenches
 * He raked the crowded benches;

My evening print reported
 * No kind of casualty.

No prisoner howled and hooted,
 * No strong policemen tore
 * With helpless mirth their jackets,
 * There was not even in brackets

This notice: "(Laughter—muted
 * In deference to the war.")



"BRITISH PRESS BACK THE ENEMY.' Manchester Courier."

Punch anyhow backs the Allies.

Cardiff claims the honour of having enlisted the heaviest recruit in the person of a police constable weighing nineteen stone odd. He should prove invaluable for testing bridges before the heavy artillery passes across.



the housebreaking business is slack
 * And cracksmen are finding it slow—

For all the seasiders are back
 * And a great many more didn't go—

Here's excellent news from the front
 * And joy in Bill Sikes's brigade;
 * Things are looking up since
 * The German
 * Has been giving a fillip to trade.

His methods are quite up to date,
 * Displaying adroitness and dash;

What he wants he collects in a crate,
 * What he doesn't he's careful to smash.

An historical château in France
 * With Imperial ardour he loots,
 * Annexing the best
 * And erasing the rest
 * With the heels of his soldierly boots.

Sikes reads the report with applause;
 * It's quite an inspiring affair;

But a sudden idea gives him pause—
 * The Germans must stop over there!

So he flutters a Union Jack 
 * To help to keep Englishmen steady,
 * Remarking, "His nibs
 * Mustn't crack English cribs,
 * The profession is crowded already."