"How was it you never let your mother know you'd won the V.C.?"
"It wasna ma turrn tae write."
ENGLAND EXPECTS
(With Mr. Punch's best hopes for the success of the National Industrial Conference.)
BOTH LIONS (together): "Unaccustomed as I am to lie down with anything but a lamb, still, for the sake of the public good ... "
At home, though the rays of "sweet unrationed revelry" were still to come, and Dulce Domum could not yet be sung in every sense, February brought us some relief in the demobilisation of the pivotal pig. And the decision to hold a National Industrial Conference was of encouraging augury for the settlement of industrial strife on the basis of a full inquiry and frank statement of facts. In other walks of life reticence still has its charms, and even in February people had begun to ask who the General was who had threatened not to write a book about the War.
March, the mad month, remained true to type. Even Mr. Punch found it hard to preserve his equanimity:
O Month, before your final moon is set
Much may have happened--anything, in fact;
More than in any March that I have met,
(Last year excepted) fearful nerves are racked;
Anarchy does with Russia what it likes;
Paris is put conundrums very knotty;
And here in England, with its talk of strikes,
Men, like your own March hares, seem going dotty.
Abroad the ex-Kaiser was very busy sawing trees, possibly owing to an hallucination that they were German Generals.
