(_The Life-tragedy of a Military Wag_.)
Time was I rocked the crowded tents
With laughter loud and hearty,
Librettist to the regiment's
Diverting concert party;
With choice of themes so very small
The task was far from tiring;
There really was no risk at all
Of any joke misfiring.
I found each gibe at army rules
Appreciated fully;
I sparkled when describing mules
As "embryonic bully,"
Or, aided by some hackneyed tune,
Increased my easy laurels
By stringing verses to impugn
The quartermaster's morals.
And so I vowed on my demob.
To shun the retrogression
To any sort of office job;
I'd jest as a profession
And burst upon the world a new
Satirical rebuker,
Acquiring fame and maybe too
A modicum of lucre.
But vain are all my _jeux de mot_,
No lip is loosed in laughter;
I send them to the Press, but no
Acceptance follows after;
And if, as formerly, I try
Satiric themes my gibe'll
Be certain to be hampered by
The common law of libel.
In short, my hopes begin to fade;
The yawning gulf has rent them
Twixt finding subjects ready made
And having to invent them.
Shattered my foolish dreams recede
And pass into the distance,
And I must search for one in need
Of clerical assistance.
* * * * *
"SOLDIER BREAKS WINDOW AND BOLTS WITH TWO CAKES."--_Daily Paper_.
You can only do this kind of thing with the refreshment-room variety.
* * * * *
"For Sceptic Throats use Iodized Throat Tablets."--_Local Paper_.
This distressing complaint is the very reverse of "clergyman's sore
throat."
* * * * *
"LADY wishes to Exchange, from 15th July to 15th September, Young
Englishman for Young Frenchman."--_Daily Paper_.
We fear she is a flirt.
* * * * *