BEFORE BISLEY.
SCENE—Office of the Commanding Commander-in-Chief. The C.C.-in-Chief discovered. To him enter H.R.H. GEORGE RANGER.
H.R.H.G.R. You sent for me, Mr. Punch. I beg pardon, I should say, your Excellency?
C.C.-in-C. (severely). Be careful, Sir, and remember in whose presence you are! I believe about a month ago you asked for subscriptions in aid of the National Rifle Association?
H.R.H.G.R.. Yes, Mr. P.—I should say, your Excellency.
C.C.-in C. And I presume the N.R.A. have been put to very great expense in changing from Wimbledon to Bisley?
H.R.H.G.R. Yes, I am sorry to say so,—personally sorry. Although the bullets may have played the mischief with the adjoining property, still I think—
C.C.-in-C. (severely). We are not discussing Wimbledon now, Sir. Am I right in assuming that the reason funds were requested was to put Bisley in a proper condition for the reception of the Volunteers?
H.R.H.G.R. Of course. I am sure I am the best friend of the Volunteers, and—
C.C.-in-C. (interrupting). How comes it then that when the Volunteers (whose own ranges are being closed all round London) ask for permission to shoot at Bisley, they are told that they may not have it, because "the range is required for the regular troops."
H.R.H.G.R. Well, as Commander-in-Chief, of course I must consider the Army, and as—
C.C.-in-C. President of the N.R.A., you should consider the Volunteers—but you don't! Now see here, if I hear any more of this sort of thing, I tell you frankly that—
[Scene closes in, as the threat is too terrible for publication].