Papa. Go to bed!
Johnny. What for, Papa?
Myself. Yes, what for, Tom? I'm sure the dear fellow has done his best to please you.
Papa. You are right. It is I who ought to be sent to bed. All right, Johnny. Let us have a game at the Battle of Dorking—get the board. That's good fun. But £100 a-year, and sollicitum, a solicitor, isn't. However, we'll alter that.
And, dear Mr. Punch, he gave notice the very next day that Johnny should not go back to the Private School, and is going to send him to a College, to be starved, fagged, beaten, knocked down with cricket-balls, trampled down at football, and taught to fight.
Believe me, yours,
An Unhappy Mother.
True Thomas of Chelsea.
It was Mr. Carlyle who first revealed the existence of Phantasm Captains, which many people refused to believe in, and laughed at the notion of. What do they say now that a Board of Captains in command over Captains and Admirals too is called by its own Secretary a Phantom Board? Surely that Thomas of Chelsea is a true Seer, and long since saw through Simulacra which have, in truth, at last been discovered to be transparent Shams.