Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 156, May 28, 1919 — John Shaqi
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 156, May 28, 1919Various
General
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 156, May 28, 1919
Various
English wit and humor -- Periodicals
Would the lady (?) in the purple toque note that, though it
may be the thing in her home to disregard the feelings of
others, the abstraction of someone else's chair at a White
Sale at Blankridge's is not the thing.
And again:--
The female with a red parasol, who thought it her duty to
struggle like a wild-cat for a place on a No. 11 bus, opposite
the Stores, on Friday afternoon last at a quarter to three,
may be interested in learning that the service is not run
solely for her.
And a more intimate note still may be struck. Something like this may
be looked for:--
Will Lydia Lopokova take pity on an unhappy and neglected
wife, whose husband has stated that he would resume dining at
home only on condition that the table was laid as it is laid
in _The Good-Humoured Ladies_?
* * * * *
BEFORE.
Before I was a little girl I was a little bird,
I could not laugh, I could not dance, I could not speak a word;
But all about the woods I went and up into the sky--
And isn't it a pity I've forgotten how to fly?
I often came to visit you. I used to sit and sing
Upon our purple lilac bush that smells so sweet in Spring;
But when you thanked me for my song of course you never knew
I soon should be a little girl and come to live with you.
R. F.
* * * * *
MORE DILLYDALLYING.
"Arbitration is to be adopted first in disputes
between members of the League, then meditation by the
Council."--_Liverpool Paper_.
* * * * *
THE TREACHEROUS SON.
I certainly hoped when I took up my quarters in this quiet village
that there would be no jarring note to disturb the idyllic peace of
my surroundings. And yet I had not been long in this pleasant
sitting-room, with its outlook on blossom-laden fruit-trees,
creamy-spired chestnuts and wooded down, before I became aware that a
pitiful and rather sordid little domestic drama was in progress within
fifty yards from my open windows. I discovered a son in the act of
encouraging his aged and apparently imbecile parent to gamble with
a professional swindler! Not that I have actually seen them thus
engaged. As a matter of fact I have merely heard a few short
remarks--and those were all spoken by the son. But, as everyone knows,
even a single sentence accidentally overheard by an observant stranger
may give him a clearer insight into the unknown, and possibly unseen,
speaker's character than could be gained from countless chapters of a
modern analytical novel.
So these four sentences were quite enough for _me_. Perhaps I should
mention here that the three personages in this drama are birds--which
makes it all the more painful.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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