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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 153, October 10, 1917 by Various
page 26 of 57 (45%)
of articles of destruction from Vimy Ridge, which had an irritating
way of making the most of both its existences--reaping in two
fields--by remarking, after a thrilling story of bloodshed, "But
that's all behind me now. My new destiny is to prove the pen mightier
than the sword"? Even though the Jubilee wedding-present came from
Bond Street, and had once been picked up and set down again by QUEEN
ALEXANDRA, what availed that? The souvenir held the floor.

Gradually the other occupants of the room had come to let the
souvenirs uninterruptedly exchange war impressions and speculate as
to how long it would last--a problem as to which they were not more
exactly informed than many a human wiseacre. Under cover of this kind
of talk, which is apt to become noisy, the humdrum of the others, the
chairs and the table and the mantelpiece, and the pacific ornaments,
and the mirror, could chat in their own mild way; the wicker-chair,
for example, could wonder for the thousandth time how long it would
be before the young Captain sat in it once more; and the mirror could
remark that that would be a happy moment indeed when once again it
held the reflections of the Lieutenant and his _fiancée_, who was one
of the prettiest girls in the world.

"Do you think so?" the knob of the brass fender would inquire. "To
me she seemed too fat and her mouth was very wide."

"But that's a fault," the tongs would reply, "that you find with
every one."

To return to the night of which I want particularly to speak, no
sooner had the clock made his monosyllabic utterance than "I am
probably unique," the Vimy Ridge inkstand said.
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