A LETTER HOME.
Reading edition
(From our Youngest Contributor.)
My dear Mr. Punch,—This is about the last letter you will receive from me. I know it is, as all will soon be over! And I shall be glad of it. I can't last out until the Christmas holidays. Who could with such food? Why, it would make a dog cough!
It's no use learning anything. Why should I, when it will be all over almost directly? What's the good of Latin and Greek if you are going to chuck it almost at once? And mathematics, too! What use are they if the end is near? It's all very well to cram, but what's the good of it when you know you won't survive to eat the plum pudding?
There's no news. There's never any news. Smith Minor has got his cap for football, and Snooks Major is going up to Oxford instead of Cambridge. What does it matter when the beef is so tough that you might sole your boots with it? And as for the mutton! Well, all I can say is, that it isn't fit for human food, and the authorities should be told about it. As for me, I am passing away. No one will ever see me more. For all that, you might send me a hamper. Your affectionate friend,
Jacky.
STAR-GAZING.
["Astronomy has become a deservedly fashionable hobby with young ladies."]
My love is an astronomer, Whose knowledge I rely on, She'll talk about, as I prefer, The satellites of Jupiter, The nebulous Orion. When evening shades about us fall Each hour too quickly passes. We take no heed of time at all, When studying celestial Phenomena through glasses. The salient features we descry Of all the starry pattern; To see with telescopic eye The citizens of Mars we try, Or speculate on Saturn. To find another planet still If ever we're enabled, The world discovered by her skill As "Angelina Tomkyns" will Triumphantly be labelled. The likeness of the stars elsewhere By day we view between us, We recognise the Greater Bear, I grieve to say, in Tomkyns père, And close at hand is Venus! In fact, the editorial note Above, which is of course meant To lead more ladies to devote Attention to the stars, I quote With cordial endorsement!
"In the Name of the Prophet!"—Which is the right way of spelling the name of the Prophet of Islam? Is it Mohammed? Mahomet? Muhammed? or Mahomed? Are his followers Mohammedans? Mahommedans? Mahometans? Moslems? Mussulmen? or Muslims? Perhaps, to adapt Mr. Mantalini's famous summary, and merely substituting "all" for "both," and "none of 'em" for "neither," we may say "So all are right, and none of 'em wrong, upon our life and soul, O demmit!"