Dear Mr. Punch,--Seeing from your cartoon that you have views of your own
on Food Control, may I put a puzzling case to you? The other evening, after
the theatre, I wished to give some supper to a hungry young soldier friend
who any day now may be summoned to France. It was a quarter past eleven and
I led him to a restaurant near Piccadilly Circus which was still open and
busy. But the door-keeper refused to admit him. I might go in--oh, yes--but
not a soldier. Now I am an elderly civilian, doing very little for my
country except carrying on my own business and paying my way and my taxes;
but this boy is a fighter, prepared to die for England if need be. Yet it
is I who am allowed to eat at night, and not he, however much in need of
food he may be! Surely there is some want of logic here?
I am, Yours faithfully,
PERPLEXED CIVILIAN.
* * * * *
"April came in yesterday with none of the mildness
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllll xfifl vbg emf shr tao hr which is proverbially
associated with that month."--_Glasgow Evening Times._
We can almost hear the printer's teeth chattering.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Mother._ "SO YOU'RE THE BOTTOM BOY OF YOUR CLASS. AREN'T
YOU ASHAMED OF YOURSELF?"
_Peter._ "BUT, MOTHER, IT'S NOT MY FAULT. THE BOY WHO'S ALWAYS BOTTOM IS
AWAY ILL."]
* * * * *