a British army camp in England, challenging returning stragglers late
after dark. The following is reported as an incident of his vigil:
“Who goes there?” called the sentry at the sound of approaching
footsteps.
“Coldstream Guards!” was the response.
“Pass, Coldstream Guards!” rejoined the sentry.
“Who goes there?” again challenged the sentry.
“Forty-ninth Highlanders!” returned the unseen pedestrian.
“Pass, Forty-ninth Highlanders!”
“Who goes there?” sounded a third challenge.
“None of your d——n business!” was the husky reply.
“Pass, Canadians!” acquiesced the sentry.
BRITISH HUMOR
The crew of the Harpalion, one of the British ships torpedoed off
Beachy Head, arrived in London yesterday. Mr. S. Harper, the second
officer, describing the experiences of the crew, said the ship was
sailing down the Channel at the rate of about eleven and a half knots.
“We had just sat down to tea,” said Mr. Harper, “at the engineers’
table, and the chief engineer was saying grace. He had just uttered the
words, ‘For what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly
thankful,’ when there came an awful crash.”
A MIXED BLESSING
A gallant Tommy, having received from England an anonymous gift of
socks, entered them at once, for he was about to undertake a heavy
march. He was soon prey to the most excruciating agony, and when, a
mere cripple, he drew off his foot-gear at the end of a terrible day,
he discovered inside the toe of the sock what had once been a piece of
stiff writing paper, now reduced to pulp, and on it appeared in bold,
feminine hand the almost illegible benediction: “God bless the wearer
of this pair of socks!”
OR A BASEBALL UMPIRE
“I saw a war picture, and one of the soldiers in the firing-line, amid
bursting shells and dead and wounded men, was yawning.”
“He was probably a football-player to whom his surroundings seemed
tame.”
NOT TO EXCEED HIS LIMIT
During the opening stages of the present war a certain soldier was told
that there were three Germans to every one of the Allied forces in that
part of the field.
Tommy went into action with great vigor, but later his company sergeant
was horrified to see him shoulder his rifle and calmly march to the
rear.
“Where are you off to?” he roared.
“Oh,” replied Tommy, “I’ve killed three of the enemy. I’ve done my
share, so I’m off back to the camp.”
OUT OF HARM’S WAY
“If you had to go to war what position would you choose?”
“The drummer’s, I think.”
“Why so?”
“When a charge was ordered, I’d pick up my drum and beat it.”
SHOWING HIM HOW
The company was about to commence practice in trench-digging.
“Shall I show you how to handle the spade?” inquired a young officer of
one private who was curiously watching the efforts of his companions.
“Aye, if tha likes,” responded the soldier.
“There you are,” commented the officer shortly afterwards, as he handed
over the spade.
“Tha shapes pratty weel,” said the private, a collier from the Durham
pits, “for a novice.”
NO EXCEPTION
Policeman (arresting burglar)—“Ain’t people worried enough by this war
without burglaring their houses?”
Burglar—“All the papers are saying ‘business as usual.’”
IN HIS OWN LANGUAGE
Bill Bates, a coal miner, had joined Kitchener’s Army, and was
undergoing musketry instruction.
The officer had been at some pains to impress upon the recruits that in
loading a rifle they should place one cartridge in the barrel and ten
in the magazine.
Singling out Bill, the officer said to him:
“Now, what do you do with your cartridges when loading?”
“Put one in t’ tunnel an’ ten in t’ can!” was the reply.
SCARED HIM TO THINK OF IT
The general was distributing medals for special valor. Summoning
Private Bumptious to step forward, much to the general surprise of the
ranks, he thundered out:
“Men, look upon this hero, and imitate his bravery! All through the
long night he stood firm at his sentinel’s post, although completely
surrounded by the enemy, and there he remained, calmly.”
Private Bumptious turned deadly pale. But before he fell in a faint to
the ground, he gasped out:
“Then they were enemies! I thought they were our own troops.”
WHAT HAPPENED TO REIMS
“Wasn’t it fearful about the Reims cathedral?”
“Don’t say Reems; it sounds horribly ignorant.”
“Well, how do you pronounce it?”
“Why, Hranss.”
“How?”
“Hn—Hranhss! Just as if you were clearing your throat. See? Hranss!”
“Well, you sound as if you had a dreadful influenza, threatened with
grip!”
“Well, that’s right, anyhow. H—hn—hnh—hrahnhss!”
“You’d better go to Arizona! You’ll never get well here! I don’t
believe you, anyway. Everybody says Reems.”
“They don’t, either!”
“They do so!”
“Oh, well, it depends on the sort of people you associate with—”
“Well, I don’t go with a lot of fake highbrows, anxious to show off the
French they learned in a course of lessons by mail—”
“Better than a lot of country junks who don’t know how to pronounce—”
“Oh, well, the church wasn’t hurt much, anyhow.”
“No, they say it can be repaired. How do you like my hat?”
“Heavenly! What do you think of mine?”
“Adorable! Let’s go in and have soda.”
“Let’s.”
REBUKE THAT DIDN’T WORK
British Teacher (to small boy)—“So you’ve come to school without a pen,
eh? What would you say if one of our soldiers went to France without
his gun?”
Tommy—“Please, sir, I should say he was an officer.”
SOMETHING TO THINK OF
The awkward squad had been having a lecture in musketry. Just before
they were dismissed the instructor asked one of them:
“Why is the rifle placed in the hands of a soldier?”
“To protect my life,” came the prompt reply.
The instructor glared at him.
“Protect your life!” he snorted. “Who’s bothering about your life?
The rifle, my lad, is placed in your hands for the destruction of the
King’s enemies!”
A FAVORABLE BALANCE
A friend called on a merchant who did a large Continental business to
offer him his sympathy.
“This must hit you very hard.”
“Very hard,” said the merchant. “I’ve over eleven hundred pounds owing
to me in Germany, and it’s touch and go whether I ever get a penny of
it. Still, we’ve got to put up with something for the country.”
“I’m glad you take it so cheerfully.”
“Well,” explained the merchant, “I owe over sixteen hundred pounds in
Germany.”
DISREGARDING THE LIMIT
In order to stimulate rifle practice in a Lancashire district,
especially amongst the rising generation, a match was arranged in which
the competitors must be over fourteen years and under seventeen years
of age.
The match was in progress, and there seemed to be not a few of the
competitors who would never see another seventeenth birthday.
The climax was reached, however, when a young enthusiast, seeing the
excellent score one of the competitors was making, astonished the
spectators by shouting at the top of his voice:
“Go on, father; get another bull’s-eye!”
NO ABBREVIATIONS WANTED
A corporal in the Liverpool Scottish tells a good story of “the front.”
The sentry’s challenge is no longer the orthodox “Halt! Who goes
there?” It is a short, prosaic, “Who are you?”
The other day a tired sentry challenged a party of the Princess
Patricia’s Own Canadian Light Infantry. Back came the response,
“P.P.O.C.L.I.”
“I don’t want to hear you say your alphabet,” growled the sentry. “Who
the blazes are you?”
HIS SACRIFICE
“George, where are your school-books!”
“When notices appeared that books were wanted for the wounded, I gave
mine to them.”—Humoristicke Listy (Prague).
UNSATISFACTORY OFFICER
They were about the rawest lot of recruits the sergeant had ever
tackled. He worked hard for a couple of hours, and at last, thinking he
had them licked into shape, he decided to test them.
“Right turn!” he barked; then, before they had ceased to move, barked
again, “Left turn!”
One burly yokel slowly left the ranks and made off towards the barracks.
“Here, you!” yelled the sergeant, angrily, “where are you off to?”
“Ah’ve had enough on’t,” replied the recruit, in disgusted tones. “Tha
dissent knaw thee arn mind two minutes stright running.”
PERPETUAL MOTION
“Excuse me, but do you mind keeping your dog indoors at night till the
war is over?”
“Why?” said the surprised dog-owner to the stranger.
“Well, your dog’s barking sounds just like a ‘special’ boy shouting in
the distance. My wife’s got two brothers at the front, and every time
she hears your dog she sends me racing down to get the ‘special,’ and
says I’ve been too stupid to catch the boy.”
MURDERING HIM
Very British Guest—“What! Brahms? You’re surely not going to sing
German?”
Hostess (apologetically)—“Well, of course, I shall take care to sing it
flat.”
SLACKER GETS BACK
Frederick Palmer, the war correspondent, was talking about England.
“Everything is war, war, war, over there,” he said. “Dear help the
young man who is not in khaki. He has a dreadful time.
“Now and then, though, one of these slackers—as they are called—gets a
bit of his own back.
“A slacker, for example, was passing a prison camp near London when an
interned German shouted at him from the barbed wire fence:
“‘Hey, Kitchener vants you!’
“The slacker frowned. ‘What?’ he said.
“‘Kitchener vants you,’ the German repeated.
“‘Well, by Jove,’ said the slacker, ‘he’s got you, all right!’”
NEW CAUSE FOR WAR
Robert Skinner, ex-consul-general to London, said at a dinner:
“Of course neutrals see things from one viewpoint and belligerents from
another. We all have our various viewpoints.
“An English inebriate was recently released from jail. To a friend who
met him outside the prison gates he said:
“‘Well, mate, wot noose?’
“‘There’s a law agin’ treatin’, was the reply, ‘and pretty near the
whole world is at war.’
“‘Just think,’ he said. ‘Just think of a no-treatin’ law havin’ sech an
effect as that.’”
NO ROSE WITHOUT ITS THORN
The wounded soldier had reached home and was just out of a long
delirium.
“Where am I?” he said, feebly, as he felt the loving hands making him
comfortable. “Where am I? In heaven?”
“No, dear,” cooed his devoted wife. “I am still with you.”
A GOOD COME-BACK, BILL
A chaplain in the navy enjoys telling of his endeavors to induce a
marine to give up the use of tobacco. During a talk that ensued between
the two, the chaplain said:—
“After all, Bill, you must reflect that in all creation there is not to
be found any animal except man that smokes.”
The marine sniffed.
“Yes,” he agreed, “and you won’t find, either, any other animal in all
creation that cooks its food, or wears clothes.”
ON THE SAFE SIDE
Zealous Sentry—“Afraid I can’t let you go by without the password, sir.”
Irate Officer—“But, confound you! I tell you I have forgotten it. You
know me well enough. I’m Major Jones.”
Sentry—“Can’t help it, sir; must have the password.”
Voice from the Guard-Tent—“Oh, don’t stand arguing all night, Bill;
shoot ’im.”
COULDN’T BE DONE
The English official had been telling the old Scottish farmer what he
must do in the case of a German invasion on the East Coast of Scotland.
“An’ hiv I reely tae dae this wi’ a’ ma beesties gin the Germans come?”
asked the old fellow at the finish.
The official informed him that such was the law, “All live stock of
every description must be branded and driven inland.”
“Dearie me!” gasped the farmer, in dismay. “I’m thinking I’ll hae an
awful; ob wi’ ma bees!”
ON THE FIRING LINE
A stranger became one of a group of listeners to a veteran of many
battles. The veteran had about concluded a vividly colored narrative of
a furious battle, in which he had taken part.
“Just think of it,” exclaimed one of the party, turning to the
stranger. “How would you like to stand with shells bursting all around
you?”
“I have been there,” responded the newcomer.
“What? Have you, too, been a soldier?”
“No,” answered the stranger. “I am an actor.”
A MATTER OF TRADE
Outside one of the recruiting depots in a large town a sergeant saw a
smart young milkman, and, thinking to get a fresh recruit, said:
“Young man, would you like to serve the King?”
“Rather!” said the milkman, eagerly. “How many quarts does he want?”
NOT LIKELY
Two Irishmen were walking into Dublin from one of the outlying
villages, and fell to discussing the war and the consequent increase in
the cost of living.
“But have ye heard the latest news?” says Tim.
“No,” says Pat. “Phwat is it?”
“There’s a penny off the loaf.”
“Bedad,” says Phat, “I hope it’s off the penny ones.”
IMPORTANT POSTSCRIPT
An Army officer’s wife wrote to a Royal Army medical corps officer
saying her child was suffering during teething; she addressed the
letter “Dr. Brown.”
The recipient returned it with the remark that he should be addressed
“Brigade-Surgeon Lieutenant-Colonel Brown.”
Whereupon the lady wrote back:—
“Dear Brigade-Surgeon Lieutenant-Colonel Brown—I am sorry about
mistake.—Yours, May Jones.
“P. S.-Please bring your sword to lance baby’s gums.”
OR A SCRAP OF PAPER
“I suppose you had a good deal of trouble when you spent your holiday
in Germany this summer?” said Mrs. De Jinks.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Von Slammerton; “chiefly in the matter of getting
money, however. Why, would you believe it, Mrs. De Jinks, a letter
of credit over there wasn’t of any more value than a treaty of
neutrality?”
NOT TO BE OUTDONE
An Irishman who had recently joined Lord Kitchener’s Army was sitting
in a railway refreshment room the other day, when two smart young
soldiers entered. Thinking to make the Irishman look small, one of them
went up to the young lady attendant and asked for “A good cigar for a
Hussar!”
A little time afterwards the other one went up and said: “A glass of
beer for a Grenadier!”
Pat was not to be taken down so easily, and after a few moments’
thought went up to the bar and, in a loud voice, ordered “A good tea
for a V. C.!”
NEVER FAZED HIM
At a recruiting meeting recently the speaker, having got his audience
in a high state of enthusiasm by telling them of the many brave deeds
of the British soldiers in France, suddenly espied a big, strongly
built man at the back of the hall. “My man,” he cried, “how is it that
you are not at the front?”
“Oh, it is all right,” replied the burly yokel; “I can hear every word
you say from here.”
STAY-AT-HOME TOILET
A South London resident, whose garden runs down to the railway line,
has hit upon a novel recruiting advertisement.
He has hung out two old petticoats with a poster reading:
“If you won’t help your King and Country now you had better wear
these.”
WHY BE NEUTRAL?
If you favor war, dig a trench in your back yard, fill it half full of
water, crawl into it, and stay there for a day or two without anything
to eat, get a lunatic to shoot at you with a brace of revolvers and a
machine-gun, and you will have something just as good, and you will
save your country a great deal of expense.
BATHING IN TEARS
“Some of the soldiers in those trenches,” said a doctor, recently back
for a rest, “don’t get a chance to wash for weeks at a time. They eat
like bears, they never take cold, their health is superb—but, dear me,
how they look, with never a wash!
“A humorist of the Coldstream Guards was singing in a second-line
trench a parody of ‘Tipperary.’ It was a funny parody, and in the midst
of it a young sergeant shouted to the singer:—
“Yer makin’ me laugh till I cry, Bill! Won’t yer stop it? The tears are
makin’ me face all muddy.’”
WHERE HE COULDN’T GO
A few Sundays ago Bobby’s mother was hurrying him to get ready
for Sunday-school. Bobby (aged seven), not being very fond of
Sunday-school, was grumbling all the time about schools in general and
Sunday-schools in particular. Finally, to give vent to his feelings, he
exclaimed:—
“I wish there was only one Sunday-school in the world, and that—er—that
one was in Germany.”
PEACE SUGGESTION
Ernest P. Bicknell, national director of the American Red Cross, said
on his return from Belgium to a Washington reporter:
“If peace is to come, each side must do its share. Advances must be
made like the girl, you know.
“A young millionaire said to a beautiful girl on a moonlit beach
between two dances:
“‘Don’t you like that Shakespearean quotation:
“‘“The friends thou hast and their adoption tried, Grapple them to they
soul with hoops of steel”?’
“The girl sighed.
“‘Beautiful,’ she said. ‘Beautiful. But wouldn’t hoops of gold be
better?’”
HEADING HIM OFF
An absentee soldier at West London police court complained that he had
not been able to get a decent dinner at the police station and that he
was hungry.
“Well, I like to show consideration to men serving their country,” said
the magistrate. “Would you like something now?”
“Yes, I could do with tea and bread and butter,” the soldier answered.
“All right,” said the magistrate, but the soldier amended his request.
“Can I have tea, bread and butter and cheese?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” said the magistrate, laughing, “but take him away, jailer,
before he asks for champagne and oysters.”
CAPTURED, NOT STOLEN
A British soldier in Belgium was one morning wending his way to camp
with a fine rooster in his arms when he was stopped by his colonel to
know if he had been stealing chickens.
“No, colonel,” was the reply, “I saw the old fellow sitting on the wall
and I ordered him to crow for England, and he wouldn’t, so I just took
him prisoner.”
LANDED A LARGE ORDER
A Herculean soldier, arriving at Liverpool by rail, somewhat
travel-stained, was passing along Lime Street when he stopped and
called on a street arab to shine his boots. His feet were in proportion
to his height, and, looking at the tremendous boots before him, the
arab knelt down on the pavement and, hailing a companion near by,
exclaimed:—
“Billie, come o’er and gie’s a hand; I’ve got an army contract.”
WELCOME RELIEF
A chap had just gone to Flanders from the training camp in Devon, and
his calmness and cheerfulness under German fire impressed everyone. So
much so, in fact, that his corporal declared:
“I never saw a new hand settle right down to it like George.”
“Oh,” said another recruit, “if you knew George’s wife, corporal, you’d
understand how the poor fellow enjoys a quiet day among the vitriol
sprays and poison bombs.”
THE USUAL QUERY
An English school inspector, who did not look beyond military age,
got a Roland for his Oliver the other day. He invited a class he was
examining to put questions to him.
“Now, boys,” he said, “don’t be shy; it’s your turn now. Ask me any
question you like on any subject you like, and if I can, I’ll answer
it.”
After hesitating, a small but courageous boy held up his hand and
blurted out: “Why are you not in khaki?”
BEST OF REASONS
“No, sir, I don’t believe in war,” cried the little man. “It means
invasion and confiscation and a forcible and brutal alteration of
existing boundaries.”
The man across the way turned to his companion and asked in a whisper
who the little man was.
“He is a mapmaker,” the companion whisperingly replied, “and he’s got
an immense stock of old maps on hand.”
MOST UNUSUAL
A British officer inspecting sentries guarding the line in Flanders
came across a raw-looking yoeman.
“What are you here for?” he asked.
“To report anything unusual, sir.”
“What would you call unusual?”
“I dunno exactly, sir.”
“What would you do if you saw five battleships steaming across the
field?”
“Sign the pledge, sir.”
MORE SURFACE TO COVER
The people of Luxemburg are not wanting in a sense of humor. One day an
officer of the Prussian Guard entered a barber shop and had a shave.
Whereupon he tendered to the barber a twopenny piece.
“Excuse me, sir,” said the barber, “but it’s threepence now.”
“Why threepence?” asked the Kaiser’s Guardsman. “In August last you
only charged me twopence.”
“That’s true enough,” was the barber’s reply; “but since the Battle of
the Marne your face has grown much longer.”
WORSE THAN WURST
They were talking of the war.
“What an age we are living in, to be sure!” said one.
“Yes,” replied the other; “it is the German sauce age.”
SHE KNEW PADDY
When a certain Dublin woman was informed a few days ago that her son
had been captured by the Germans with other prisoners, and that he had
been put into a chain-gang, she said, with great emotion:—
“Heaven help the man that’s chained to our Paddy.”
HE HAD SMOKED ONE
English Host—“I thought of sending some of these cigars out to the
front.”
The Victim—“Good idea! But how can you make certain that the Germans
will get them?”
SALVAGE
During the fighting a Highlander had the misfortune to get his head
blown off.
A comrade communicated the sad news to another gallant Scot, who asked,
anxiously:—
“Where’s his head? He was smoking ma pipe.”
A SOLDIER’S WIFE RELATES THIS
I received a letter from my husband last week, in which he states
that he and others were having a glass of beer, when a minister came
amongst them and, kneeling down, began to pray, when one of the company
present, known as “Stammering Tommy,” closed his eyes and bent his
head. When he again opened his eyes, at the close of the prayer, some
one had drunk up all his beer. “Eh!” exclaimed Tommy, in astonishment.
“M-my b-beer’s all g-gone. I shall w-watch and p-pray n-next t-time.”
IT SAID SO ON THE DOOR
A group of patriotic and very enthusiastic boys was assembled outside a
well-known London hospital. A passer-by was asked by one of them:—
“Please, sir, can you tell us which general it is who is in this
hospital?”
“General?” replied the man. “I don’t know of any general in this
hospital.”
“Oh, yes, sir—look for yourself,” cried all the boys together.
The man fixed his gaze on the sign and read, “General Lying-In
Hospital.”
GENTLE HINT
A woman who had had four stalwart soldiers billeted on her endeavored
to use as little butcher meat as possible. Day after day there was
served at the dinner time a scanty meal, the chief item of which was
tea.
“Ah,” she said one day, pointing to a tea leaf floating in one of the
cups, “there’s to be a visitor today.”
“Well, madam,” said one of the hungry four, “let us hope that it’s the
butcher!”
SOMETHING JUST AS GOOD
The number of famous literary men who are now serving in his majesty’s
forces is so great that the happy idea has been conceived of publishing
a book, the contributors to which are all celebrated authors who have
become soldiers.
Among the long list of names to be found in the volume, one of the best
known is that of A. E. W. Mason, the novelist.
Formerly Mr. Mason was a member of Parliament, and he tells of a man
who wrote a certain M. P. asking for a ticket of admission to the
gallery of the house of commons.
The M. P. wrote back saying that he was very sorry that he could not
send the ticket because the gallery was closed.
The next day he was astonished to receive from the stranger the
following note: “As the gallery is closed, will you please send me six
tickets for the zoo?”
NOT ON THE MENU
A gentleman in khaki, just back from France, rambled into a restaurant.
After glancing over the bill of fare, he looked around the room for a
waiter.
“Yes, sir,” said the waiter, sliding over in response to his call with
a glass of water and a napkin.
“Tell me, waiter,” remarked the soldier, “have you got frogs’ legs?”
“No, sir,” was the rather unexpected answer; “it is rheumatism that
makes me walk like this!”
DYE IS SCARCE
Gen. Joffre’s quiet humor is typified in a story which comes from the
trenches. Some members of the general’s staff were discussing the
number of officers whose hair had turned from jet black to white since
the war began, and they had decided to their own satisfaction that the
cause was to be found in the mental strain. Gen. Joffre was asked for
his opinion, and, while agreeing with the conclusion arrived at by his
officers, naively added that it was also very difficult in war time to
obtain the toilet accessories to which one was accustomed in times of
peace!
THE HERO
First Tramp—“You seem very ’appy abaht it. Wot’s up?”
Second Tramp (reading Mr. Asquith’s Guildhall speech)—“’Ere’s me bin
goin’ wivout luxuries all this time, an’ I’ve only jus’ found out that
I’ve bin ’elpin’ the country to win this war.”
NEEDED A BRACER
During the recent fighting along the banks of the Aisne a man was badly
wounded. The Ambulance Corps tenderly placed him on a stretcher.
“Take him to the hospital,” said the man in charge.
Slowly the wounded man opened his eyes and whispered, faintly:—
“What’s the matter with the canteen?”
AND SMITH COULDN’T DO IT