Part 8 (1/2)

[Ill.u.s.tration: Those ---- Mouth-Organs.

”Keep away from the 'ive, Bert; 'e's goin' to sting yer!”]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Garcong! the bill, tres vite!

That Provost-Marshal Feeling.

A sensation only to be had at a Base--in other words, a base sensation.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Blighty!]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Those Raiders at the Seat of War.

”I wish the 'ell you'd put a cork on that blinkin' pin of yours, Bert!”]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Romance, 1917.

”Darling, every potato that I have is yours” (engaged).]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Modern Topography.

”Well, you see, here's the church and there's the post-office.”]

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”There Was a Young Man of Cologne.”

(I've forgotten the rest of the poem, but it's something about ”a bomb”

and ”If only he'd known.”)]

[Ill.u.s.tration: In the Support Trench.

Old Bill has practically decided to get Private s.h.i.+nio (the ex-comedy-juggler and hand-balancer) transferred to another platoon.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: It's the Little Things that Worry.

What is so particularly annoying to Private Lovebird is, that he would not have had this bother with his dug-out if his leave had not been postponed.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: That Periscope Sensation.

”I wonder if I oughtn't to tell the captain about that thing sticking up in the sea over there.”]