And the strange people who intruded with third-class tickets, and trampled on our toes, and smoked shag, and talked repulsively about the Cockspurs and Chelsea's new purchase from Oldham Athletic, and gave each other "dead certs" of appalling incertitude, and passed remarks which to my mind showed a shocking lack of respect for the upper and middle classes! We were not one class in those times.
May it all come back to us soon—all the old chatter! Come back to us, Sir Thomas Lipton and the Cup! Come back to us, Gloomy Dean! Come back to us, Ninepence for Fourpence. Come back to us, "dead certs" and "also rans." Come back golf and motor-cars. Come back, Wicked Government and Wicked Opposition. Life is too painfully interesting now. I long to be bored again.
But it must be boredom with honour.
Mabel. "Mother, dear! I do hope this war won't be over before I finish my sock!"
MR. PUNCH'S WAR CORRESPONDENCE.
New Style.