GLORY O' ENGLAND.
(At the "Plough and Horses.")
"Glory o' England, be passin', sure 'nough."
"She been passin' ever since I been 'ere to tell o' it, seems to me. 'Ow be she passin' now more 'n ordinary times, Luther Cherriman?"
"Way as is nearest to sudden death, George. 'Er young men gettin' that soft an' sloppy-like that there ain't no tellin' some of 'em from gals."
"Gals be comin' 'long won'erful—not much to complain o' wi' they. Drivin' motors, they be, an' diggin' an' all."
"Times be changin' fast; nigh time women wore the breeches an' done wi' it, now."
"I did think as our lads was doin' their bit middlin' well, too, out to Front. I did seem to 'ear they 'd counted f'r a German or two, first an' last."
"Fightin' Germans is a man's work just to present—if 'e be strong 'nough an' young 'nough an' all rest of it. But ye can't judge a man by 'is work 'lone, not to make a proper man of 'im. Sport did used to be the glory o' England, in my young days. An' now the young uns ain't got spunk 'nough to shoot a rabbit."
"That be an 'ard sayin', Luther, if ye like. 'Oo be you 'ludin' to partic'lar?"
"I be 'ludin' to young Squire—'oo did ought to set a good 'xample in this 'ere village, if anyone ought."
"'E were th' first to go when th' War broke out, though 'e be th' only son of 'is parents. An' more 'n 'alf of our chaps went 'cos of 'im, so 'tis said."
"That's all right, far as it goes——"
"I've 'eard say as 'e 've got a few more t' join ev'ry blessed time 'e've been 'ome on leave. They do say 'e be mortal keen."
"I don't say nothin' 'bout 'im shootin' Germans—I knows nothin' 'bout that. But in these 'ome fields I 'ave seen what I 'ave seen—no longer ago 'n yesterday."
"Be it too much to ask ye, then, what ye 'ave seen, Luther?"
"I seen a sight as tells me glory o' England be on th' wane. I seen young Squire loppin' 'bout 'ome fields an' 'is bits o' span'els at 'is 'eels same as ever. An' yet 'e looked that strange like I couldn't take m' eyes off of 'im. An' then it come over me all of a sudden what 'twas. 'Where be y'r gun, Sir?' I shouts to 'im over th' stile."
"What did 'e say to question personal as that?"
"'E come up to me an' I sees 'e got bunch o' daffodils in 'is 'and. 'These things smell o' Heaven,' 'e says, smilin' quiet. 'My gun is in the rack, Cherriman,' 'e says, 'where it's like to be.' 'Lor' love me, Sir,' says I, 'that do be strange, surelye, wi' th' rabbits 'oppin' 'round y' feet like a lot o' gals courtin' o' ye.' 'Strange,' 'e says; 'but we lives in strange times now, Cherriman. An' I've seen slaughter 'nough in Flanders to serve me for th' moment,' 'e says."
"'E said that?"
"'E did. An' white 'e went as 'e said it—you see the white comin' up under the brown of 'im."
"Pickin daffs?"
"Like some bloomin' gal."
"Didn't 'e say nothin' more?"
"'You dunno what it's like,' 'e says, 'to be back in this old place—to smell the good old Sussex clay, to watch the plovers flyin', to pick these flowers. You dunno what it's like, Cherriman,' 'e says, 'seein' you ain't come back to it from 'ell. Rabbits be safe 'nough from me now,' 'e says, an' drops his daffs all unknowin' like an' goes off at a mooney stride. An' 'e finest shot in th' county, some do say—an' I believes 'em!"
"Teh, Luther—stop yer jaw! There be young Squire a-comin'. An' bless me if 'e ain't ..."
"Here, you two old rascals, I've been looking for you—for you, anyhow, Cherriman. Here's a rabbit apiece for your suppers—shot 'em myself."
"Thank ye kindly, Sir. But I thought as you'd give up shootin'?"
"I thought so too, Cherriman—till I saw your face in the field yesterday. And then I said to myself, I must regain Cherriman's respect if it means the hardest bit of shooting I've ever done here or in Flanders."
"That's right, Sir! Don't do to let glory o' England die. Thank ye kindly for rabbits, Sir—us'll enjoy 'em proper."
"Hope you'll break your last tooth on them, Cherriman—that's what I hope."
"Glory o' England's more to me, Sir, 'n an 'ole set o' teeth at my time o' life."
"MARRIED MEN PROPOSALS EXPLAINED."
"Evening News" poster.
Are not these revelations just a little hard on our friends' wives?
The Art of Journalistic Expansion.
"The 'Russky Invalid' states: 'The Caucasus army has performed a miracle which in military history will be remembered for years to come.'"—The Age (Melbourne).
"'General Russky, though an invalid, and his Caucasus army,' declares The Messenger, 'have performed a miracle which military history will remember for years to come.'"
The Argus (Melbourne).