A TOPICAL TRAGEDY.
Jim Startin was not loved at school;
We thought him rather knave than fool.
Migrating thence to Oxford, he
Failed to secure a pass degree.
Years sped—some twenty—ere again
Jim Startin swam into my ken.
I met him strolling down the Strand
Well-dressed, well-nourished, sleek and bland,
A high-class journalistic swell—
The Headline Expert of The Yell.
Great at the art, in peaceful days,
Of finding means our scalps to raise,
The War had since revealed in him
A super-Transatlantic vim,
And day by day his paper's bills
Gave us fresh epileptic thrills.
The sons of Belial, in the rhyme
Of DRYDEN, had a glorious time,
But never managed to attain
To Jim's success in giving pain.
But while his power was at its height
It perished in a single night;
For, with his bills by law abolished,
Jim's occupation was demolished;
Headlines that can't be blazed abroad
On bills and posters are a fraud;
They cease to titillate the mob
Or draw the pennies from its fob,
So Jim was "fired" and lost his job.
Lady (to coalheavers). "SO SWEET OF YOU TO COME. I DO HOPE YOU'LL COME AGAIN."
"More to the west the British marked fresh progress south of Achiet-le-Petit, where their lines were advanced on a front of 2 kilometres (1¼ miles). Finally the Germans fell back for the length of 2 kilometres (5/8 mile) between Essarts and Gommecourt."—The Evening News.
The road home always seems shorter.
"The enemy went at the moment when he left because he was shelled out."—Daily Mail.
Of course he might have had a different motive if he had gone the moment after he left.
"She was wearing a three-quarter red coat with glass buttons to match a heavy blue skirt with low neck."
We never have approved of these décolletés skirts.
First Flapper. "THE CHEEK OF THAT CONDUCTOR! HE GLARED AT ME AS IF I HADN'T PAID ANY FARE."
Second Flapper. "AND WHAT DID YOU DO?"
First Flapper. "I JUST GLARED BACK AT HIM—AS IF I HAD!"