Page:Punch Vol 148.djvu/268
MAKING AN EXHIBITION OF THEMSELVES.
We seem to recall that in the dim ages of last June something was being said about an Anglo-German Exhibition, and that the idea was subsequently abandoned. We should welcome its revival, though of course with modifications in accordance with our increased knowledge of the subject. As thus:―
Germany at the Black-and-White City.
A true picture of the most amazing people on earth. Open 10 till 10.
Native Arts and Crafts (especially Crafts) as practised in Blackest Berlin.
Native German Village.
With continuous Performances by real Germans (never before brought into contact with civilisation). An illustration of Savage Life that must be seen to be believed.
Quaint Ceromonials and War Dances.
Sacrificing to Kultur.
Departure of Chiefs on Head-hunting Expedition. Chanting the Hymn of Hate (by a choir of genuine Professors).
Also Exact Reproduction of a
British Seaside Watering Place as the Germans see it.
Armour-plated Bathing Machines.
Penny-in-the-Slot Machine Guns.
Gigantic Super-Switchback, capable of hurling twenty-five tons of trippers at a hostile fleet.
Side Shows.
Herr Hohenzollern, the Potsdam Equilibrist, "Walking the Wireless."
The Great Wheel (as done on the Marne).
Cave of Illusion, The Parisian Mirage, "The Calaisdoscope," etc., etc.
Admission One Mark.
LOOKING FORWARD.
One of the most inspiring and interesting of the ceremonies in connection with the Peace Celebrations occurred yesterday at Chelsen, when medals were awarded to a number of stalwart men and youths for their fine record of athleticism and self-denial during the War. They walked in, many hundred strong, to the strains of "Home, Sweet Home," the crowd, which was enormous, boing kept in order by a regiment just back from the Front, who were given this task to keep them out of mischief. The procession evoked tremendous cheers, and no wonder, for it consisted of men in the pink of condition, who contrasted noticeably with many of the poor fellows from the War, some of whom had a battered and not too spruce appearance. A little company of wounded soldiers left during the proceedings.
The heroes being all assembled, a gentleman prominent in the Football world, supported by dignitaries, officials, and pressmen, welcomed them, in a few well-chosen words, in the name of himself and follow-sportsmen. England, he said―and by England he meant the cream of the country, that is, the football enthusiasts―was proud of them. (Cheers.) They had stuck―well, he would not say to their guns, for that was perhaps an unfortunate phrase under the circumstances―but to their own calling―to their footballs―with a steady persistence that did them credit. In spite of all temptation, in spite of all the artful patriotic lures, their self-respect as footballers had conquered (Cheers and excitement.) Again and again it had been put before them by selfish and impulsive partisans that their services as fit and powerful men might be of use to England at the Front, or even for home military service, but nothing had shaken them. (Cheers.) They were adamant. They had been trained to play football, and play football they would. (Immense cheers.) They had manfully remained in the path they had chosen, and had refused to give up their great and noble and truly national pastime. (Hear, hear.) Nothing could shake them―not even the raid on Scarborough. They were gloriously firm―boys of the bulldog breed par excellence. (Cries of "Hurrah.") Football, they recognised, came first, country second, and they behaved accordingly; and the great-hearted public, always ready to acclaim doggedness and pluck, stood by them and rallied week after week to their gallant displays in the field. (Renewed cheers.)
To each man the Chairman then presented an iron cross amid the wildest excitement, and the proceedings terminated by the band playing "After the ball," in which everyone present joined.
Offence and Defence.
"In the Assembly General Hertzog has tried, with no success, to help the cause of friends of his who are in prison with charges of treason hanging over their heads. On Monday Mr. Burton, Minister of Railings, countered these efforts with a stingingly critical speech."―Manchester Guardian.
Judging by the reports of recent proceedings in the South African Parliament Mr. Burton's new post (or perhaps one should say post-and-rails) will be no sinecure.
THE LOWLAND SEA.
Oh came you by the Sound,
And saw you there my true love
That was homeward bound?"
Again by England's shore;
A-sailing by the Lowlands
Your sailor comes no more.
As she was sailing by,
And every soul aboard her,
Oh, they left them all to die.
Nor rovers of Sallee,
But gentlemen of high estate
Come out of Germanie!
Though he were crowned King;
It was no honest seaman
That wrought so vile a thing!
That ever sailed the sea,
And they should swing as pirates swing
Upon the gallows tree,
A-sailing by the Lowlands
That took my lad from me!"
Ex Africa Semper Aliquid Novi.
"The authors tramped 17,000 miles from one side of Africa to the other―a journey which took nearly a year to accomplish."
Observer.
As the continent is only about 5,000 miles across at its widest part, we reckon that these great pedestrians must have crossed it at least three times, and walked over 45 miles a day the whole time.
N.S.P.C.C. Please Note.
"Unfurnished Room wanted by respectable woman (oven preferred), where baby could be minded while mother goes to work."
Evening News.
The Wallaby Again.
"In answer to the query, 'What is wrong with golf?' opinions of writers appear to have differed very much. G. Duncan, A. C. Croome, and Wallaby Deeley expressed the opinion that the greens might be made smaller and the holes enlarged."
West Australian.
"Wallaby" Deeley is doubtless a local flier. Judging by the following extract his idea appears to have been adopted:―
"Since the beginning of the year some clearing has been effected, and a new green laid down, which will permit of the course being considerably lengthened, and provide a spare green should the 4-in. green become unplayable as happened last winter."
"Southern Times," Bunbury, W. A.