Yes, war is horrible and hideous--
It jars upon my sense fastidious,
My "noble instincts," to decline
To actions that are not divine.
So, when I mutilate your pictures,
So far from meriting your strictures,
Compassion rather is my due
For doing what I hate to do.
It grieves my super-saintly soul
Even to smash a china bowl;
To carry off expensive clocks
My tender conscience sears and shocks;
I really don't enjoy at all
Hacking to bits a panelled hall,
Rare books with priceless bindings burning,
Or boudoirs into cesspools turning.
My heart invariably bleeds
When I'm engaged upon these deeds,
And teardrops of the largest size
Fall from my heav'n-aspiring eyes.
But, though my sorrow is unfeigned,
Still discipline must be maintained;
And, when the High Command says, "Smash,
Bedaub with filth, loot, hack and slash,"
I do it (much against the grain)
Because, though gentle and humane,
When dirty work is to be done
I always am a docile Hun.
* * * * *
"It is proposed to collect from Nottinghamshire householders bones and
fat for the extraction of glycerine."--_Christian World_.
Poor "lambs"!
* * * * *
"Lady Companion Wanted, immediately, by young married woman; servant
kept, and there are no children: applicant must be well educated, well
read, well-bred, and of impeachable character."--_Provincial Paper_.
So as to give her employer something to talk about?
* * * * *
"'Baghdad' written large on the wall of the terminus in English and
Arabic reminded them that they had arrived. In the booking office, now
deserted, there had been a rush for tickets to Constantinople. The last
train had gone out at 2 a.m. A supper officer discovered the
way-bill."--_Daily Paper_.
A poor substitute if he was looking for the bill-of-fare.
* * * * *