Punch, or The London Charivari | Page 9

Warrior-Journalist, who was suspected of combining with the duties of a hero the labours of a Special Correspondent for a Roman journal.
"Do I look like a jester?" asked the Prisoner; and then he added, "My brave companions, it is for the honour of our country--to conceal her poverty from the sneers of foreigners--that I carry with me the secret of my action to the family vault. Press me no further--see, I am ready for the firing-party!"
There was nothing further to be said, and the little procession made its way to the Barrack Square. The Prisoner shook hands warmly with his Judges, and with the weeping soldiery who were to act as his executioners. "I will give the words of command myself. Ready--present--"
"Stop!"
An aged man had approached the group. He was out of breath with running. The firing-party paused, and lowered their rifles.
"Do not listen to him!" shouted the Accused. "And if he will not desist, shoot him too--shoot us both."
"You exceed your duties, Sirrah," said the Commander-in-Chief, with some severity--for discipline was strict in the Italian Army. "It is for me to command, not you!" The Prisoner lowered his head at the just reproof, and then his superior officer continued, "Why do you ask us to desist?"
"Because the Prisoner is innocent. He acted from the best of motives. I was the proprietor of the shop he sacked, and I (for, after all, I am a patriot) demand his pardon!"
"You!" exclaimed the Commander-in-Chief. "Surely you ought to be the last to urge such a plea. We do not know what your shop contained, but presume that the contents was your property."
"You are right in the presumption," acquiesced the aged man; "but these documents will show that he was right, from a military point of view, to sack my shop."
The Commander-in-Chief hastily glanced at the papers, and with a thrill of pleasure, ordered his favourite General to be released.
"This mystery must never be revealed," he murmured. And it never would, had not the hero-journalist printed the story. Thus it was that the tale became international property. Now it is known all the world over that the General sacked a shop to obtain the arms and accoutrements of the Italian Army. But it is still (comparatively) a secret that the proprietor of the establishment carried on on the premises the business of a pawnbroker!
* * * * *
COMPULSORY GREEK;
OR, BYRON UP TO DATE.
(_A BRITISH BOY'S VIEW ON A BURNING QUESTION._)
[Illustration]
Compulsory Greek! Compulsory Greek! Though "burning SAPPHO loved and sung," Why in Greek shackles should they seek To bind the British schoolboy's tongue? Eternal bores, that Attic set, But, heaven be thanked, we'll "chuck" them yet.
"The Scian and the Teian Muse" Ruled us as tyrants absolute; Now even pedagogues refuse To stodge us with such stale old fruit. Why should the STANLEY-dowered West Make the Anabasis a test?
They teach us about Marathon, But what is Marathon to me? Tell me of fights still going on, Men "rightly struggling to be free;" Nay, I find interest much more brave in The mill 'twixt Thingummy and SLAVIN.
Oh, feed me not on mythic lore, But Science and the modern Fact, Teach me Electric Fires to store, The difference 'twixt "Bill" and "Act." Why should a Cockney care a "cuss" For HOMER or for ?SCHYLUS?
For who are they? But what art thou, My Country? On thy fertile shore The heroic lyre is tuneless now; To scheme for dividends, dig for ore, These are the things we hold divine, Not HOMER's long-resounding line.
If you would make a splendid name Amidst a lucre-loving race, You must be in god Mammon's game, And hustle for a foremost place. What do we want with poets here? For Greece a snub, for Greek a sneer!
Must we still pore o'er classic text Because our simple fathers said It made "a gentleman"? What next? Let the dead languages stay dead! Hooray for Fact and Rule of Three! Compulsory Greek is fiddle-de-dee.
Place me on Stock Exchange's steep With nought to do but sell and buy To Bull and Bear we need not keep Our classics up; that's all my eye. Ho! for the Factory, Mart, and Mine The toils of Greek our souls decline.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE POOR OVERWORKED PARLIAMENTARY OFFICIAL TRIES TO ESCAPE FOR A HOLIDAY WITHIN HIS OWN COUNTRY.
The poor overworked official escapes for a holiday
he is observed and followed by a crowd of officials
but Escapes--up in a Balloon Away!
The wind changes
He flies to the Seaside Oh horror!
a narrow Escape!
But eventually lands on his own estate
and is delighted to see his tenants coming out to welcome him!
but it turns out to be a demonstration against his policy!!
Escapes on board a friend's racing yacht--but finds that his political antagonist is one of the party!!
Alone by the shore he picks up a bottle
In it