It appears that the enterprising commanders of the Royal Artillery
stationed at Dover have recently been getting themselves disliked by
the members of the National Alliance of Mineral Waters Associations
(Limited), by producing gaseous waters at the canteen under their
control, and offering them for sale to their comrades in garrison.
According to a story laid before the Secretary of State for War, the
representatives of the scientific branch of the army in question have
had dealings with the gallant West Surrey and the equally gallant West
Riding, much to the disgust of the trading producers of non-alcoholic
compounds. The 3rd Battalion of the King's Own Rifle Corps (late
60th) are also at Dover, but there is no evidence to show that these
warriors have preferred "R. A. aërateds" to brands as yet better
known to the consumers of effervescing drinks. According to the _Daily
Telegraph_, this labour, savouring more of peace than of war, enabled
the controllers of the cannon to contribute some £40 in prizes to the
garrison sports held at Dover on Saturday last. Whether the financial
game was worth the athletic candle is a matter that must be decided
by military experts qualified to weigh the respective advantages of
burning "villainous saltpetre" and preparing that exhilarating liquid
known amongst civilians as "fizzle." Admittedly, lemonade and its
companion "ginger pop" when they scintillate are grateful drinks,
but it would scarcely be advisable if through the, no doubt, well
intentioned efforts of those concerned, the Royal Artillery gained an
equally appropriate but less impressive designation. It would indeed
be a sad thing if it ever became necessary for some General to have to
sing out, "Here, you Sir, in command of those Royal Ginger Popgunners,
limber up your soda-water manufacturing apparatus and retire at the
gallop to the canteen in the rear!" Such a direction, if delivered in
the piping time of peace would sound incongruous, and might predict
disaster if uttered in the hideous hour of war.
* * * * *
THE CRICKET THREE.
Great GRACE to young MACLAREN yields his place,
And RANGITSINHJI follows after GRACE.
Mid Harrow's noblest sons let MAC be reckoned,
Who tops the list with such a mighty second.
And well I know that RANJIT'S fame will stand
Firm and secure on India's coral strand.
Oft have I seen upon the level sward
That's owned, or used to be, by Mr. LORD,
While countless thousands, watching ball and bat
Rang out loud cheers and waved th' applausive hat,
Oft have I seen that cricketer or this
Bat, bowl, or field, or catch (or even miss),
And oft, astounded by some piece of play,
Have marked with letters red th' auspicious day;
Yet ne'er before three heroes have I seen
More apt and splendid on the well-rolled green;
Men of one skill, though varying in race,
MACLAREN, RANJITSINHJI, Grand Old GRACE.
* * * * *
Old Saw Re-set.
Mr. GEORGE NATHANIEL CURZON
May be a "superior purzon,"
But Mr. TOMMY GIBSON BOWLES
Is the sturdiest of souls;
And "those who at Bowles will play
Must expect rubbers,"--so men say!
* * * * *
[Illustration: MUCH ADO.
"MAMMA-A-A! BOO-HOO! WE'S CRYING! TUM UP 'TAIRS AN' SEE WHAT'S DE
MATTER WIV US!"]
* * * * *