Volume 150 — PLUS ÇA CHANGE, PLUS C'EST LA MÊME CHOSE.

Before the War Miss Betty Pink Was just an ordinary mink; Her skirt was short, her eye was glad, Her hats would almost drive you mad, She was, in fact, to many a boy A source of perturbation; At household duties she would scoff, She lived for tennis, bridge and golf, She motored, hunted, smoked and biked, Did just exactly what she liked, And took a quite delirious joy In casual flirtation. But when the War arrived, you see, She flew at once to V.A.D., Belgians, Red Cross, and making mitts, And (profitably) sold her Spitz, And studied mild economy In things she wasn't wrapt in; One game alone of all her games She stuck to. Which is why her name's No longer Pink. I laughed almost, On reading in The Morning Post, That Betty, "very quietly," Had wed a tempy Captain.