WHAT'S HOT
Prev | Current Page 30 | Next

Various

"Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 153, September 12, 1917"

I remember that my feet were very cold, and when I fell asleep I
dreamed that my betrothed's name was Peter. When I awoke I cried very
loud, and my grandmother slapped my cheeks.
Shortly afterwards she died, and I went to live with my uncle, who was a
pawnbroker in Moscow.
* * * * *
THE LONG-FACED CHUMS.
When Alexander won the world he knew not bombs nor guns,
His simple forms of frightfulness were quite unlike the Huns';
'Twas not by barking mortars that the pushful CAESAR scored;
He trusted close formations and the silent stabbing sword.
When ROLAND'S rearguard turned at bay, and from the furious press
The scuppered Paladin sent forth his famous S.O.S.,
Scared Roncesvalles rang loud with war, as misty legends tell,
But echo's ear was spared the shriek and crash of bursting shell.
So could you meet the shades of those whose prowess made Romance,
You'd find them only puzzled by your tales of stunts in France;
You'd have to cut the business out, and be content to chat
Of rations, grub, and officers--such odds and ends as that,
Unless you chanced to entertain some true rough-rider's ghost,
Who galloped after HANNIBAL, or with the Parthian host,
Some curled Assyrian prince who pranced, bareback, along a frieze--
Or one of RUPERT'S _beaux sabreurs_--a horseman--whom you please.


Pages:
18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42