Ridicule is the rapier which pierces the pachydermatous hide of the Hun.
William of Potsdam, portrayed in this cartoon as a Cook’s tourist,
chatters with rage whenever he is laughed at. Behold here the All
Highest in a composite portrait of Himself in a few of his favourite
“stunts.” Mark the hat of the mighty hunter who slays hecatombs of
wild boars without running any risk to his august person, the asker of
innumerable and importunate questions (he expected one of our generals
to tell him the official length of our ballet dancers’ skirts!), the
snapshotter, the wearer of English clothes of sporting cut, and first,
last, and all the time--the SPY. Britons forgive and forget easily, but
we may well wonder whether, after this war, high-born Huns all of them
now revealed as spies will be received as of yore by our magnates and
lavishly entertained? Shall we see immense Junkers mixing champagne and
stout in our clubs? Shall we lose our own appetites at the sight of
gracious ladies wolfing our best food with all four feet in the trough?