Excerpt
CHARIVARIA.
"The King," says The Manchester Courier, "has returned all his German Orders." So much for the taunt that Britain's object in taking part in the War was to pick up German orders.
We hear that, in addition to lowering the lights at night, the authorities intend, in order to confuse the enemy, to alter the names of some of our thoroughfares, and a start is to be made with Park Lane, which is to be changed to Petticoat Lane.
The Kaiser is reported to have received a nice letter from his old friend Abdul ("the D—— d"), pointing out that it is the fate of some kind and gentle souls to be misunderstood.
Matches, it is stated, are required at the front—to put an end, we believe, to Tommy Atkins' reckless habit of lighting his cigarette by applying it to the burning fuse of a bomb.
A Sikh non-commissioned officer has, according to The Central News, delivered himself of the following saying:—"Power is to kings, but time belongs to the gods. The Indians know how to wait." This will no doubt call forth an indignant rejoinder from the Teutonic Waiters' Association.
"Property insured in London is valued at £1,320,000,000," according to an announcement made by Lord Peel last week. One can almost hear the Kaiser smacking his lips.
At last the authorities have acted, and the premises of a German firm with concrete foundations have been raided. This bears out the promise of certain high officials who declared that they would take action when a concrete example was brought to their notice.
The official "Eye-Witness" in a recent despatch tells us how a British subaltern saw, from a wood, an unsuspecting German soldier patrolling the road. Not caring to shoot his man in cold blood, he gave him a ferocious kick from behind, at which the startled German ran away with a yell. This subaltern certainly ought to have figured in "Boots' Roll of Honour" which was published last week.
Why, it is being asked, do not the French retaliate for the damage done by the Germans to their cathedrals and drop bombs on Berlin? The persons who put this question have evidently never seen Berlin or they would know that you cannot damage its architecture if you try.
The Kaiser has announced his intention of eating his Christmas dinner in London. We trust that Mr. McKenna and his men will see to it that His Majesty will, anyhow, find no mince pies here. [Note.—"Mince pies" should be pronounced "mean spies." This greatly improves the paragraph.]
According to one report which reaches us the Kaiser is now beginning to quibble. He has pointed out that, when he said he would eat his Christmas dinner at Buckingham Palace, he did not mention which Christmas.
TO THE ENEMY, ON HIS ACHIEVEMENT.
Now wanes the third moon since your conquering host
Was to have laid our weakling army low,
And walked through France at will. For that loud boast
What have you got to show?
A bomb that chipped a tower of Nôtre Dame,
Leaving its mark like trippers' knives that scar
The haunts of beauty—that's the best réclame
You have achieved so far....