GOLD BRAID.

Same old crossing, same old boat,

Same old dust round Rouen way,

Same old narsty one-franc note,

Same old "Mercy, sivvoo play;"

Same old scramble up the line,

Same old 'orse-box, same old stror,

Same old weather, wet or fine,

Same old blooming War.

Ho Lor, it isn't a dream,

It's just as it used to be, every bit;

Same old whistle and same old bang,

And me to stay 'ere till I'm 'it.

'Twas up by Loos I got me first;

I just dropped gently, crawled a yard

And rested sickish, with a thirst—

The 'eat, I thought, and smoking 'ard ...

Then someone offers me a drink,

What poets call "the cooling draft,"

And seeing 'im I done a think:

"Blighty," I thinks—and laughed.

I'm not a soldier natural,

No more than most of us to-day;

I runs a business with a pal

(Meaning the Missis) Fulham way;

Greengrocery—the cabbages

And fruit and things I take meself,

And she has daffs and crocuses

A-smiling on a shelf.

"Blighty," I thinks. The doctor knows;

'E talks of punctured damn-the-things.

It's me for Blighty. Down I goes;

I ain't a singer, but I sings;

"Oh, 'oo goes 'ome?" I sort of 'ums;

"Oh, 'oo's for dear old England's shores?"

And by-and-by Southampton comes—

"Blighty!" I says and roars.

I s'pose I thort I done my bit;

I s'pose I thort the War would stop;

I saw myself a-getting fit

With Missis at the little shop;

The same like as it used to be,

The same old markets, same old crowd.

The same old marrers, same old me,

But 'er as proud as proud....

The regiment is where it was,

I'm in the same old ninth platoon;

New faces most, and keen becos

They 'ope the thing is ending soon;

I ain't complaining, mind, but still,

When later on some newish bloke

Stops one and laughs, "A blighty, Bill,"

I'll wonder, "Where's the joke?"

Same old trenches, same old view,

Same old rats and just as tame,

Same old dug-outs, nothing new,

Same old smell, the very same,

Same old bodies out in front,

Same old strafe from 2 till 4,

Same old scratching, same old 'unt,

Same old bloody War.

Ho Lor, it isn't a dream,

It's just as it used to be, every bit;

Same old whistle and same old bang

And me out again to be 'it.

A.A.M.



"The important now development in the cotton situation is that the ½ Prime Minister has consented to receive a deputation."—Manchester Guardian.

All the same, he refused to adopt a ½ measure.


"The history of the development of the ¾eppelin is well-known."—Daily Chronicle.

Particularly since our airmen ceased to give it any quarter.


From an official notice of the sale of an enemy business:—

"Lot 2. The goodwill of the business of the company attaching to goods shipped from England to Nigeria, marked with the unregistered or common-law trade-marks known as 'Eagle on Rocks' and 'Lion and Flag.'"

We are not surprised to hear of the "Eagle on Rocks" when it had the "Lion and Flag" after it.