Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 153, October 10, 1917 by Various
page 26 of 57 (45%)
page 26 of 57 (45%)
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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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