Volume 153 — A LOST LEADER.
Reading edition
(Or, Thoughts on Trek.)
The men are marching like the best; The waggons wind across the lea; At ten to two we have a rest, We have a rest at ten to three; I ride ahead upon my gee And try to look serene and gay; The whole battalion follows me, And I believe I've lost the way. Full many a high-class thoroughfare My erring map does not disclose, While roads that are not really there The same elaborately shows; And whether this is one of those It needs a clever man to say; I am not clever, I suppose, And I believe I've lost the way. The soldiers sing about their beer; The wretched road goes on and on; There ought to be a turning here, But if there was the thing has gone; Like some depressed automaton I ask at each estaminet; They say, "Tout droit," and I say "Bon," But I believe I've lost the way. I dare not tell the trustful men; They think me wonderful and wise; But where will be the legend when They get a shock of such a size? And what about our brave Allies? They wanted us to fight to-day; We were to be a big surprise— And I believe I've lost the way.
The Dawn of Peace?
"The Commissioners of H.M. Works, &c., are prepared to receive tenders for the supply of:
(a) Floor polish during a period of six or 12 months from 1st August, 1917.
(b) Arm chairs."—Daily Telegraph.
From an interview with an eminent playwright regarding a new farce:—
"Has my face a war object? Certainly it has, a very definite though an indirect one."—Liverpool Echo.
If it hadn't been so old a joke, we should have guessed that the author has a strong cast in his eye.
"A Chaplain Wanted, for private chapel in the Highlands. There is plenty of stalking for a good shot, also there is fishing, shooting, and golf. A chaplain is wanted who can drive a motor-car. Terms £1, travelling expenses are paid, and there are rooms provided."—Daily Telegraph.
Yet there are still people who write to the newspapers demanding "Liberty for the Church."
LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT: ITS DISTURBING INFLUENCE.
Mother. "OH, MARY, WHY DO YOU WIPE YOUR MOUTH WITH THE BACK OF YOUR HAND?"
Mary. "'COS IT'S SO MUCH CLEANER THAN THE FRONT."