Part 8

Pat was not to be taken down so easily, and after a few moments’ thought went up to the bar and, in a loud voice, ordered “A good tea for a V. C.!”

NEVER FAZED HIM

At a recruiting meeting recently the speaker, having got his audience in a high state of enthusiasm by telling them of the many brave deeds of the British soldiers in France, suddenly espied a big, strongly built man at the back of the hall. “My man,” he cried, “how is it that you are not at the front?”

“Oh, it is all right,” replied the burly yokel; “I can hear every word you say from here.”

STAY-AT-HOME TOILET

A South London resident, whose garden runs down to the railway line, has hit upon a novel recruiting advertisement.

He has hung out two old petticoats with a poster reading:

“If you won’t help your King and Country now you had better wear these.”

WHY BE NEUTRAL?

If you favor war, dig a trench in your back yard, fill it half full of water, crawl into it, and stay there for a day or two without anything to eat, get a lunatic to shoot at you with a brace of revolvers and a machine-gun, and you will have something just as good, and you will save your country a great deal of expense.

BATHING IN TEARS

“Some of the soldiers in those trenches,” said a doctor, recently back for a rest, “don’t get a chance to wash for weeks at a time. They eat like bears, they never take cold, their health is superb—but, dear me, how they look, with never a wash!

“A humorist of the Coldstream Guards was singing in a second-line trench a parody of ‘Tipperary.’ It was a funny parody, and in the midst of it a young sergeant shouted to the singer:—

“Yer makin’ me laugh till I cry, Bill! Won’t yer stop it? The tears are makin’ me face all muddy.’”

WHERE HE COULDN’T GO

A few Sundays ago Bobby’s mother was hurrying him to get ready for Sunday-school. Bobby (aged seven), not being very fond of Sunday-school, was grumbling all the time about schools in general and Sunday-schools in particular. Finally, to give vent to his feelings, he exclaimed:—

“I wish there was only one Sunday-school in the world, and that—er—that one was in Germany.”

PEACE SUGGESTION

Ernest P. Bicknell, national director of the American Red Cross, said on his return from Belgium to a Washington reporter:

“If peace is to come, each side must do its share. Advances must be made like the girl, you know.

“A young millionaire said to a beautiful girl on a moonlit beach between two dances:

“‘Don’t you like that Shakespearean quotation:

“‘“The friends thou hast and their adoption tried, Grapple them to they soul with hoops of steel”?’

“The girl sighed.

“‘Beautiful,’ she said. ‘Beautiful. But wouldn’t hoops of gold be better?’”

HEADING HIM OFF

An absentee soldier at West London police court complained that he had not been able to get a decent dinner at the police station and that he was hungry.

“Well, I like to show consideration to men serving their country,” said the magistrate. “Would you like something now?”

“Yes, I could do with tea and bread and butter,” the soldier answered.

“All right,” said the magistrate, but the soldier amended his request.

“Can I have tea, bread and butter and cheese?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” said the magistrate, laughing, “but take him away, jailer, before he asks for champagne and oysters.”

CAPTURED, NOT STOLEN

A British soldier in Belgium was one morning wending his way to camp with a fine rooster in his arms when he was stopped by his colonel to know if he had been stealing chickens.

“No, colonel,” was the reply, “I saw the old fellow sitting on the wall and I ordered him to crow for England, and he wouldn’t, so I just took him prisoner.”

LANDED A LARGE ORDER

A Herculean soldier, arriving at Liverpool by rail, somewhat travel-stained, was passing along Lime Street when he stopped and called on a street arab to shine his boots. His feet were in proportion to his height, and, looking at the tremendous boots before him, the arab knelt down on the pavement and, hailing a companion near by, exclaimed:—

“Billie, come o’er and gie’s a hand; I’ve got an army contract.”

WELCOME RELIEF

A chap had just gone to Flanders from the training camp in Devon, and his calmness and cheerfulness under German fire impressed everyone. So much so, in fact, that his corporal declared:

“I never saw a new hand settle right down to it like George.”

“Oh,” said another recruit, “if you knew George’s wife, corporal, you’d understand how the poor fellow enjoys a quiet day among the vitriol sprays and poison bombs.”

THE USUAL QUERY

An English school inspector, who did not look beyond military age, got a Roland for his Oliver the other day. He invited a class he was examining to put questions to him.

“Now, boys,” he said, “don’t be shy; it’s your turn now. Ask me any question you like on any subject you like, and if I can, I’ll answer it.”

After hesitating, a small but courageous boy held up his hand and blurted out: “Why are you not in khaki?”

BEST OF REASONS

“No, sir, I don’t believe in war,” cried the little man. “It means invasion and confiscation and a forcible and brutal alteration of existing boundaries.”

The man across the way turned to his companion and asked in a whisper who the little man was.

“He is a mapmaker,” the companion whisperingly replied, “and he’s got an immense stock of old maps on hand.”

MOST UNUSUAL

A British officer inspecting sentries guarding the line in Flanders came across a raw-looking yoeman.

“What are you here for?” he asked.

“To report anything unusual, sir.”

“What would you call unusual?”

“I dunno exactly, sir.”

“What would you do if you saw five battleships steaming across the field?”

“Sign the pledge, sir.”

MORE SURFACE TO COVER

The people of Luxemburg are not wanting in a sense of humor. One day an officer of the Prussian Guard entered a barber shop and had a shave. Whereupon he tendered to the barber a twopenny piece.

“Excuse me, sir,” said the barber, “but it’s threepence now.”

“Why threepence?” asked the Kaiser’s Guardsman. “In August last you only charged me twopence.”

“That’s true enough,” was the barber’s reply; “but since the Battle of the Marne your face has grown much longer.”

WORSE THAN WURST

They were talking of the war.

“What an age we are living in, to be sure!” said one.

“Yes,” replied the other; “it is the German sauce age.”

SHE KNEW PADDY

When a certain Dublin woman was informed a few days ago that her son had been captured by the Germans with other prisoners, and that he had been put into a chain-gang, she said, with great emotion:—

“Heaven help the man that’s chained to our Paddy.”

HE HAD SMOKED ONE

English Host—“I thought of sending some of these cigars out to the front.”

The Victim—“Good idea! But how can you make certain that the Germans will get them?”

SALVAGE

During the fighting a Highlander had the misfortune to get his head blown off.

A comrade communicated the sad news to another gallant Scot, who asked, anxiously:—

“Where’s his head? He was smoking ma pipe.”

A SOLDIER’S WIFE RELATES THIS

I received a letter from my husband last week, in which he states that he and others were having a glass of beer, when a minister came amongst them and, kneeling down, began to pray, when one of the company present, known as “Stammering Tommy,” closed his eyes and bent his head. When he again opened his eyes, at the close of the prayer, some one had drunk up all his beer. “Eh!” exclaimed Tommy, in astonishment. “M-my b-beer’s all g-gone. I shall w-watch and p-pray n-next t-time.”

IT SAID SO ON THE DOOR

A group of patriotic and very enthusiastic boys was assembled outside a well-known London hospital. A passer-by was asked by one of them:—

“Please, sir, can you tell us which general it is who is in this hospital?”

“General?” replied the man. “I don’t know of any general in this hospital.”

“Oh, yes, sir—look for yourself,” cried all the boys together.

The man fixed his gaze on the sign and read, “General Lying-In Hospital.”

GENTLE HINT

A woman who had had four stalwart soldiers billeted on her endeavored to use as little butcher meat as possible. Day after day there was served at the dinner time a scanty meal, the chief item of which was tea.

“Ah,” she said one day, pointing to a tea leaf floating in one of the cups, “there’s to be a visitor today.”

“Well, madam,” said one of the hungry four, “let us hope that it’s the butcher!”

SOMETHING JUST AS GOOD

The number of famous literary men who are now serving in his majesty’s forces is so great that the happy idea has been conceived of publishing a book, the contributors to which are all celebrated authors who have become soldiers.

Among the long list of names to be found in the volume, one of the best known is that of A. E. W. Mason, the novelist.

Formerly Mr. Mason was a member of Parliament, and he tells of a man who wrote a certain M. P. asking for a ticket of admission to the gallery of the house of commons.

The M. P. wrote back saying that he was very sorry that he could not send the ticket because the gallery was closed.

The next day he was astonished to receive from the stranger the following note: “As the gallery is closed, will you please send me six tickets for the zoo?”

NOT ON THE MENU

A gentleman in khaki, just back from France, rambled into a restaurant. After glancing over the bill of fare, he looked around the room for a waiter.

“Yes, sir,” said the waiter, sliding over in response to his call with a glass of water and a napkin.

“Tell me, waiter,” remarked the soldier, “have you got frogs’ legs?”

“No, sir,” was the rather unexpected answer; “it is rheumatism that makes me walk like this!”

DYE IS SCARCE

Gen. Joffre’s quiet humor is typified in a story which comes from the trenches. Some members of the general’s staff were discussing the number of officers whose hair had turned from jet black to white since the war began, and they had decided to their own satisfaction that the cause was to be found in the mental strain. Gen. Joffre was asked for his opinion, and, while agreeing with the conclusion arrived at by his officers, naively added that it was also very difficult in war time to obtain the toilet accessories to which one was accustomed in times of peace!

THE HERO

First Tramp—“You seem very ’appy abaht it. Wot’s up?”

Second Tramp (reading Mr. Asquith’s Guildhall speech)—“’Ere’s me bin goin’ wivout luxuries all this time, an’ I’ve only jus’ found out that I’ve bin ’elpin’ the country to win this war.”

NEEDED A BRACER

During the recent fighting along the banks of the Aisne a man was badly wounded. The Ambulance Corps tenderly placed him on a stretcher.

“Take him to the hospital,” said the man in charge.

Slowly the wounded man opened his eyes and whispered, faintly:—

“What’s the matter with the canteen?”

AND SMITH COULDN’T DO IT

Sergeant-Major—“Now, Private Smith, you know very well none but officers and non-commissioned officers are allowed to walk across this grass.”

Private Smith—“But, Sergeant-Major, I’ve Captain Graham’s verbal orders to—”

Sergeant-Major—“None o’ that, sir. Show me the captain’s verbal orders. Show ’em to me, sir.”

PAYING HIS RESPECTS

A soldier had died, and a very unpopular sergeant was making a “voluntary” levy of a shilling per man to be sent to the dead soldier’s widow. He came to Mick, an Irishman, who was always in trouble, and who hated the sergeant.

“Now, Mick, my man, where’s your shilling?”

Mick slowly put his hand in his pocket, and as slowly withdrew it. He looked lovingly at the shilling as it lay in his palm, and then passed it over to the sergeant.

“There it is,” he said, “and I’d gladly make it a sovereign if it was for you.”

GOT THE MONEY FIRST

The following story is vouched for by a well-known Scottish M. P. somewhere off the East Coast. A trawler was on naval patrol duty. The skipper thought he would like some fish for breakfast, so he commenced operations. Soon up popped a German submarine close by. The trawler’s skipper, an Aberdonian, was about to ram it and earn the prize money when the submarine’s commander, not suspecting this evil intention, offered to buy some fish. So the canny Scot went alongside, sold his fish—and then rammed the submarine.

FORTUNATE

Girl (reading letter from brother at the front)—“John says a bullet went right through his hat without touching him.”

Old Lady—“What a blessing he had his hat on, dear.”

FEMININE STRATEGY

“I was speaking with your father last night,” he said, at last, somewhat inanely.

“Oh, were you?” answered the sweet young thing, lowering her eyes. “Er—what were you—er—talking about?”

“About the war. Your father said that he hoped the fighting would soon be over.”

The sweet young thing smiled.

“Yes,” she remarked, “I know he’s very much opposed to long engagements.”

He took the hint.

WAR WORKS WONDERS

Vicar (who has called to read a letter to one of his parishioners from her son at the Front)—“Your son, Mrs. Codling, has been fighting in the trenches. For a whole week he was standing up to his neck in water!”

Mrs. Codling—“Well, I never! This war be doing some funny things, sir, to be sure. We couldn’t get ’im to put water anywhere near ’is neck when ’e was at ’ome!”

UNLIMITED SUPPLY

“Do you know, Bill would be awfully helpful to the Germans at the front.”

“How so?”

“They might just get him on to talking about his fishing exploits when they were filling their gas-bombs.”

HER DEDUCTION

Mrs. Brown (to Mrs. Jones, who has been to see a son off in a troop-ship)—“Well, I’m sure they’ll be starting soon, for both funnels are smoking; and, you see, my dear, they couldn’t want both funnels just for lunch.”

NOT A FAVORITE BRAND

Private A—“Wot kind of a cigarette have you got?”

Private B (handing him one)—“Flor de Kitchener.”

Private A (takes a few puffs and throws it away, remarking)—“They would floor better men than Kitchener.”

AN UNWILLING TARGET

The Home Secretary, we understand, can not see his way to allow a distinguished Anglo-American who dwells in our midst with his family to exhibit, with a view to safeguarding his home against Zeppelins, an illuminated sky-sign bearing the words “Gute leute wohnen hier” (“Good people live here”).—Punch.

A COMPROMISE

In a certain hospital “somewhere in France” one of the nurses, before going out shopping, was inquiring of the wounded soldiers whether they required anything brought in, and, if so, what.

One poor chap asked her to bring him a bottle of “Scotch.” She told him that was impossible, as he had been forbidden to drink anything, whereupon he promptly replied:

“Well, have it frozen, and I’ll bite it.”

ON A SCOTTISH BATTLEFIELD

Patriotism is more than name-deep. In the early summer a tourist party at a Stirling hotel included an obvious German who had a few months previously gone the whole hog in the matter of naturalization.

He had called himself—say—Hector McKiltie. The party strolled out to the field of Bannockburn. Standing beneath the flagstaff, “McKiltie’s” eyes beamed through his spectacles for a minute. And then came the patriotic outburst:

“Mein gracious,” he exclaimed, “so dis vas vere ve beat der Inglish!”

IT HIT HIM FIRST

The wounded soldier explained his grievance to his nurse.

“You see, old Smith was next to me in the trenches. Now, the bullet that took me in the shoulder and laid me out went into ’im and made a bit of a flesh wound in his arm. Of course I’m glad he wasn’t ’urt bad. But he’s stuck to my bullet and given it his girl. Now, I don’t think that’s fair. I’d a right to it. I’d never give a girl o’ mine a second-’and bullet.”

SWEET CHARITY

Wealthy Benefactress (stopping in at the hospital)—“Well, we’ll bring the car to-morrow, and take some of your patients for a drive. And, by the bye, nurse, you might pick out some with bandages that show—the last party might not have been wounded at all, as far as anybody in the streets could see.”

EXPLAINED

Eminent Woman Surgeon, Who Is Also an Ardent Suffragette (to wounded guardsman)—“Do you know, your face is singularly familiar to me? I’ve been trying to remember where we’ve met before.”

Guardsman—“Well, mum, bygones be bygones; I was a police constable.”

OPTIMISTIC

Sniper—“I’ve knocked the spike orf ’is bloomin’ ’elmet—’e’s took the top orf o’ my bloomin’ ear—and it’s my shot next!”

WHAT STRUCK HIM LEAST

An Irishman invalided home from the war was asked by one of his relatives what struck him most about the battles he took part in.

“What struck me most?” said Pat. “Sure, it was the large number of bullets flying around that didn’t hit me.”

THE TERRIER

Sergeant—“’Ey, there! Where are you going?”

The Absent-Minded Beggar (who climbed out of the trench)—“’Oly Jiminy! When that bloomin’ shell whistled over ’ead Hi thought it was twelve o’clock!”

MORE THINGS TO KNIT

“My love, I’ve an idea,” said old Mrs. Goodart to her caller. “You know we frequently read of the soldiers making sorties. Now, why not make up a lot of those sorties and send them to the poor fellows at the front?”

A QUALIFIED FIGHTER

Rather unexpected was the reply of a Mrs. Tommy Atkins to a lady who inquired if her husband was at the front.

“Yus,” she said, “an’ I ’ope ’e’ll serve the Germans as ’e served me.”

A SHORT CUT

A stranger inquired of Pat which was the shortest way to the hospital.

Pat seriously replied: “By shouting three cheers for Germany.”

MORE THAN HE BARGAINED FOR

A soldier in barracks asked for exemption from church parade on the ground that he was an agnostic. The sergeant-major assumed an expression of innocent interest.

“Don’t you believe in the Ten Commandments?” he asked, mildly.

“Not one, sir!” was the reply.

“What! Not the rule about keeping the Sabbath?”

“No, sir.”

“Ah, well, you’re the very man I’ve been looking for to scrub out the canteen!”

AS SEEN IN PRESS REPORTS

Making the geography lesson as interesting as possible, the teacher asked the name of one of the Allies.

“France,” cried one little boy.

“Now name a town in France.”

“Somewhere,” promptly returned the youngster.

BEST OF INTENTIONS

Young Subaltern:—“I think I ought to get a periscope; what do you think?”

Grandmamma—“Don’t go buying one, my dear; if you could borrow one for a pattern, I am sure I could knit you one just as good.”

DOUBLE TROUBLE

“Mein Gott, it iss too much? Ain’t it enough dot I fight for der Vaterland? Now der Emperor says we should marry before leaving for der front.”

HE LOST THE COUNT

A young officer at the front wrote home to his father:

“Dear Father—Kindly send me $250 at once. Lost another leg in a stiff engagement and am in hospital without means.”

The answer was as follows:

“My dear Son—As this is the fourth leg you have lost (according to your letters), you ought to be accustomed to it by this time. Try and hobble along on any others you may have left.”

DEADLIER THAN USUAL

“I understand that all the warring nations find that women are perfectly able to make shrapnel.”

“I’ll wager they make it in their own way, however. One cupful gunpowder, one cupful nitroglycerin, a pinch of fulminate, and so on.”

NEW USE OF THE WORD

She—“Where have you been?”

He—“In the hospital getting censored.”

She—“Censored?”

He—“Yes; I had several important parts cut out.”

THE ORIGINAL ONE-STEP

“Did you ever go to a military ball?” asked a lisping maid of an army veteran.

“No, my dear,” growled the old soldier. “In those days I once had a military ball come to me, and what do you think? It took my leg off.”

MOTHERLY ADMONITION

The young organist of the village church had joined the local corps to fight for King and Country. The whole place turned out to see the boys go off to the Front, among them the organist’s mother, a dear old soul, who was weeping bitterly. Bravely the old lady dried her tears, and as the train steamed out of the station she called to her son:—

“Look after yourself, my boy, and be sure you keep your practice up.”

OTHER INTENTIONS

Recruiting Officer—“And now, my lad, just one more question—are you prepared to die for your country?”

Recruit—“No, I ain’t! That ain’t wot I’m j’ining for. I want to make a few of them Germans die for theirs!”

SLACKERS

British Foreman Compositor—“Three more of my men have enlisted this morning.”

Editor—“Ah! A wave of patriotism, I suppose?”

Foreman Compositor—“Well! Perhaps that’s the way to put it, but they say they would rather be shot than set any more of your copy!”

A PUTTERING PUTTER

War Fan—“What’de yuh think of von Hindenburg’s drive?”

Golf Fan—“His drive is all right, but they say he’s weak on the green.”

BLACK AND BLUE, PERHAPS

The Village Know-All—“’Ow’s that son o’ yourn wot went into the Army gettin’ on, Mr. Highpate?”

Mr. Highpate—“Oh, doin’ splendid. They’ve made ’im a color-sergeant now.”

The Village Know-All—“’Ave they, though? What color?”

BUT WILL THEY?

“What makes you think we’ll have better times when the war is over?”

“Well, for one thing, all these men who do nothing but stand around discussing the war news will have time to go back to work.”

SLOW BUT SURE

Yoemanry Officer (to trooper whose horse continually falls to the rear)—“How’s this? You told me your horse had won half-a-dozen matches against some of the best horses in the country.”

“So he has, sir,” replied the trooper. “It was in ploughing matches he took the prizes.”

THE RECRUIT SCORES ONE

“Blockhead!” shouted the exasperated drill-sergeant to the raw recruit. “Are they all such idiots as you in your family?”

“No,” said the recruit. “I have a brother who is a great deal more stupid than me.”

“Impossible! And what on earth does this incomparable blockhead do?”

“He is a drill-sergeant.”

OUR GUESS WOULD BE BEER

Teacher—“Now, children, who can tell me which is the Germans’ favorite drink?”

After a pause—“Champagne,” exclaimed all the class excepting Tommy.

Teacher—“Now, Tommy, don’t you agree with the others?”

Tommy—“Well, teacher, I don’t know. I am not sure that the German army are fond of champagne, but all the world knows that their navy always stick to port.”

A RARE OFFERING

Scene, improvised singsong in a British relief-camp, to which a number of German prisoners were admitted as a special favor. Officer running it returns after a brief absence to find the sergeant left in control of the program announcing the following item: “Our friends Fritz and ’Ans will now oblige with the ’Ymn of ’Ate.”

WISE RECRUIT

Officer (in volunteer camp, to recruit)—“Now, if a fire should break out, what are you to do?”

Recruit—“Run and find you, sir.”

Officer—“Right. And, if I’m not be found, what then?”

Recruit—“Put out the fire, sir.”

BAD BITE

“Well, I see the Germans have taken Lodz.”

“I’ll bite. Loads of what?”

NEVER ARGUE WITH A WOMAN