And many a Sabbath have I seen thee stride
    With stately step across the Merville Square,
  Beaming with pleasure, full of conscious pride,
    Breaking the hearts of all the jeunes filles there;
  A bowler hat athwart thy stubborn locks
    And round thy neck a tie of brilliant blue,
  Thy legs in football shorts, thy feet in socks
    Of silken texture and vermilion hue.

  Impassive Chu (or should I call thee “Chow"?),
    Say, what hast thou to do with all this fuss,
  The ceaseless hurry and the beastly row,
    The buzzing plane and roaring motor-bus,
  While far away the sullen Hwang-ho rolls
    His lazy waters to the Eastern Sea,
  And sleepy mandarins sit on bamboo poles
    Imbibing countless cups of China tea?

  A year ago thou digged’st in feverish haste
    Against the whelming onset of the Hun
  A hundred miles of trench across the waste—­
    A year ago—­and now the War is won;
  But thou remainest still with pick and spade,
    Celestial delver, patient son of toil! 
  To fill the trenches thou thyself hast made
    And roll the twisted wire-in even coil.

  But not for thee the glory and the praise,
    The medals or the fat gratuity;
  No man shall crown thee with a wreath of bays
    Or recommend thee for the O.B.E.;
  And thou, methinks, wouldst rather have it so,
    Provided that, without undue delay,
  They let thee take thy scanty wage and go
    Back to thy sunny home in Old Cathay;

  Where never falls a shell nor bursts a bomb,
    Nor ever blows the slightest whiff of gas,
  Such as was not infrequent in the Somme,
    But on thy breast shall lean some slant-eyed lass;
  And she shall listen to thy converse ripe
    And search for souvenirs among thy kit,
  Pass thee thy slippers and thy opium pipe
    And make thee glad that thou hast done thy bit.

* * * * *

“SELF MADE MAN

Young widwep lady intelligent, wealthy wishing to remarie, wishes to make acquaintance in a Swiss Sportplace with a well situated english or american gentleman.  Preference is given to a businessman, self made, with fine caracter aged 35-45 handsome as the lady is it too.”—­Swiss Paper.

We foresee a rush of profiteers to the Alps.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Sportsman.  “THEY DON’T SEEM VERY ANXIOUS TO HUNT TO-DAY, TOM.”

Tom (exasperated by a bad scenting day).  “POOR THINGS, THEY’VE ALMOST FORGOT HOW TO; THEY’VE BEEN SO BUSY GETTIN’ OUT OF THE WAY OF YOU YOUNG OFFICER GENTS SINCE YOU CAME ’OME.”]

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

(BY MR. PUNCH’S STAFF OF LEARNED CLERKS.)