Illustration: _Medical Officer._ "SORRY I MUST REJECT YOU ON ACCOUNT OF YOUR TEETH." _Would-be Recruit._ "MAN, YE'RE MAKING A GRAN' MISTAKE. I'M NO WANTING TO BITE THE GERMANS, I'M WANTING TO SHOOT 'EM." * * * * * A FIRST CHARGE. _Mr. Punch's_ appeal is once more for the children. Most earnestly, and with great confidence, he begs his readers to care for those little ones whose fathers and brothers are serving under the Flag for our country's honour and the defence of our homes, or may suffer through loss of work. All gifts to the National Relief Fund should be addressed to H.R.H. The Prince of Wales, at Buckingham Palace. * * * * * A PLEA FOR PEGASUS. Ye mobilisers of that other arm Whose might is famed superior to the sabre's, Who furnish forth the wherewithal to charm The Special Correspondent to his labours, And by whose enterprise we're daily fed on Reports of Armageddon. List to my plaint. It is not that I tire Of those despatches--picturesque effusions-- Which by the witness of a later wire Are proved to rank among the Great Illusions; Though much to be deplored, such news, I'm willing Freely to own, is thrilling. But when your pages, shrunken through the scare Of that worst blow of all, a paper famine, Dispense exclusively Bellona's fare, And, failing battle tales, you simply cram in Facts about spies, commodities and prices, I writhe beneath this crisis. I can support the other pains of war: Transport disorganised and credit shaken, The fear of hunger knocking at the door, And threepence extra on a pound of bacon; In fact, I'd be the most resigned of creatures If you'd compose your "features." Could you not lift a corner of the mask That makes these solemn days so much more solemn? A very little ray is all I ask To light the utter darkness--say a column Of "stories" which your slang describes as "snappy;" With these I could be happy; With these my topic Muse I might entice; But war has left her mute, and me despairing. They call for horses; must I sacrifice The steed with whom I've taken many an airing? Poor Pegasus--and none too well-conditioned! Must _he_ be requisitioned? * * * * * From parallel columns in The Evening News:--- "Haelen is forty-five miles northwest | "The centre of the battle was of Liége; it is fifty miles | at Haelen (thirty miles east of Brussels." | northwest of Liége | and thirty miles | from Brussels)." This is simply to deceive the Germans. * * * * * Illustration: THE WORLD'S ENEMY. THE KAISER. "WHO GOES THERE?" SPIRIT OF CARNAGE. "A FRIEND--YOUR ONLY ONE." * * * * *