Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, September 13, 1890Various
General
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, September 13, 1890
Various
English wit and humor -- Periodicals
villas were putting in a disfiguring appearance. On the beach was a
melancholy pic-nic party, engaged in a mild carouse. In the gloaming
was a light-ship, marking the end of the Goodwin Sands.
On a beautiful day no doubt St. Margaret's Bay would look quite
as lovely as Gravesend, but when it rained I question whether it
would compare favourably with Southend under similar atmospheric
circumstances. There was some shrubbery creeping up the white
hill-side that may have been considered artistic, and possibly the
great expanse of ocean (when completely free from mist) had to a
certain extent a sort of charm. As I looked towards the coast of
France I had an excellent view of a steamer, crammed with (presumably)
noisy excursionists, coming from Margate. But when I have said this I
have nothing more to add, save that you can get from Martin's Mill
to St. Margaret's Bay by an omnibus. By catching this conveyance you
avoid a tedious walk, which puts you out of temper for the rest of the
day.
P.S.--I missed the omnibus!
* * * * *
GOOD YOUNG "ZUMMERSET!"
(_CHAMPION IN CRICKET OF THE SECOND-CLASS COUNTIES._)
Eight matches played, and eight matches won!
_That_'s what none of the First-class Counties have done.
'Tis clear that Young Zummerset knows "how to do it."
Bravo, PALAIRET, WOODS, TYLER, ROE, HEWITT!
Go on in this fashion, and soon you'll be reckoned
Among the First-Classers, instead of the Second.
Wet wickets this season, boys, seldom a rummer set,
But they anyhow seem to have suited Young Zummerset!
* * * * *
THE REAL GRIEVANCE OFFICE.
(_BEFORE_ MR. COMMISSIONER PUNCH.)
_A Medical Officer (with martial manner, and well set up)
introduced._
_The Commissioner_. Well, Sir--may I call you Colonel?--what can I do
for you?
_Medical Officer_ (_smiling_). I am afraid, Sir, you may give me no
military rank, as it would be contrary to the Regulations.
_The Com._ Have I not the pleasure of addressing a soldier?
[Illustration]
_Med. Off._ Well, yes, Sir, I suppose I may claim that title. I
am an Army Surgeon, and in that capacity have not only to risk my
life equally with my comrades in the field, but have to brave the
additional danger inseparable from the fever-wards of a hospital. As
a matter of fact many of my colleagues have earned the V.C., and not
a few taken command when their aid was needed. I hope you have not
forgotten ANTHONY HOME WYLIE and MACKINNON.
_The Com._ Certainly not--they are gallant fellows. Well, I am sorry
to see you here, Doctor--what can I do for you?
_Med. Off._ I would ask your good services, Sir, to get us greater
recognition in the Army. Pray understand we do not wish to be called
Captain, Major, or Colonel, merely to "peacock" before civilians,
but because, without official recognition of our true status, we are
treated as inferior beings by the youngest subaltern in any battalion
to which we may be attached.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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