REVELATION REVISED.
[A portion of "The Photodrama of Creation," a cinematograph enterprise hailing from the United States, has recently been exhibited.]
Oh, would I were a preacher or a prophet
Of some wild pagan creed, I know not where—
One of whom people said, "This man is off it"
(But still I had a following sparse and rare),
That so, if cynics urged, "How hard to prove is
The faith ye cling to fondly and so fast!"
By favour of the men who work the "movies,"
I might expound the future and the past.
Hiring a lot of lads with mobile faces,
And all the world to tap for filméd scenes,
Would I not set backsliders in their places
And give my errant congregation beans?
Uprising in the darkened tabernacle,
A canvas sheet across the stage unfurled,
"To-night, dear brethren, we propose to tackle,"
I should commence, "the Making of the World.
"Doubts have arisen lately if the cosmos
Sprang as I stated; an egregious don
Has published pamphlets asking if it was moss,
Or something else, that formed the primal On.
"Well, to confute at once this creeping scandal,
You shall behold the facts before your eyes,
(If Mr. Potts will kindly turn that handle—
Thank you) and note, the camera never lies."
Yes, I would teach them; and if any scoffers
Still weltered in the quagmire of their sin,
If when I overhauled the monthly coffers
I found the business part a trifle thin,
Choosing a model for the worst offender
I should unroll a still more lively lot
Of films depicting him in pomp and splendour,
"Swift glories," I should say, "and doomed to rot;"
And then turn on "The Day of Retribution,"
Shades of avengers in the world below
Prodding my man with verve and resolution,
And broiling him on spits exceeding slow,
And flaying him, and squeezing him with pincers;
And whilst I pointed to his shrivelled shape
(These moving picture-men are rare convincers),
How I should thunder to the stalls agape!
"Look at yon sinner perishing in toto,
Take warning lest the same occurs to you;
Each fraction of each wriggle is a photo,
And therefore must be absolutely true."
Evoe
"At the short fourteenth Vardon was bunkered, and took an hour."—Exeter Express.
He should have read our book, "How to get out of a Bunker in Forty-five Minutes. By One who often Does."
"This move of the Powers, sending a rural gentleman from the Rhine to do the big stick stunt in Albania with a lot of blood-thirsty savages, is about as much use as putting a boy sprout in the room of Sir John French."—London Mail.
Personally we put an elderly artichoke in Sir John's room when he comes to stay with us. This, of course, in addition to the usual tin of biscuits.
