Volume 147 — THE GREAT SHOCK.
Reading edition
(Or a tragic result of Armageddon as gleaned from the Evening Press.)
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 Darling's 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 Darling 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.")
Evoe.
A Traitor Press.
"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.