This brand of vulture, most obscene,
May have designs upon the Dove;
Its carrion taste was never keen
On the Millennial reign of Love;
And I, for one, am stiff with fear
About our little friend's career,
Lest that disgusting fowl should maul
And eat it, olive-branch and all.
I mention this to mark the quaint
Notion of "Peace" the public has,
That wants to smear the Town with paint,
To whoop and jubilate and jazz;
And while our flappers beat the floor
There's Russia soaked in seas of gore,
And LENIN waxing beastly fat;
Nobody seems to think of that.
O.S.
* * * * *
PERFECTLY UNAUTHENTIC ANECDOTES.
_which may be reproduced (with the permission of Mr. Punch) in any
forthcoming volume of Anybody's Reminiscences_.
"You do things so sketchily and casually," said FRITH to WHISTLER one
day. "Now when I paint a picture I take pains. 'The Derby Day' cost me
weeks and months of sleeplessness. I did nothing else; I gave my whole
mind to it." "Oh," said WHISTLER, "that's where it's gone to, is it?"
* * * * *
When Mr. BERNARD SHAW made his tour of the ports in order to
popularise Socialism in the Navy, he was courteously received at
Portsmouth by Sir HEDWORTH MEUX. The talk happened to turn on the
theatre, and the Admiral was candid enough to confess himself somewhat
at sea with regard to the merits of contemporary writers.
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