Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 147, December 16, 1914
Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 147, December 16, 1914
Book Excerpt
ow him right enough if ever you come up against him. He's a handsome man with black hair and no moustache, and he's got a scar over his right eye where he tumbled against the fender when he was four years old.
Yours without love,
SARAH PROSSER.
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Illustration: Genial Pedestrian. "A BRIGHT MOON TO-NIGHT, CONSTABLE."
Morbid P.C. "YES, SIR. LET'S 'OPE IT DON'T DRAW THE FIRE OF 'OSTILE AIR-CRAFT!"
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THE WATCH DOGS.
IX.
DEAR Charles,--As the men, for reasons best known to themselves, will suddenly chant on the march--"We're here because we're here, because we're here, because we're here," goodness knows when (if ever) we shall get to the Front; so this is yet another letter for you from the Back, where we are, much against our will, kept to deal kindly but firmly with the German invader as, home-sick and sea-sick, he alights gloomily on our shores. If, by the way, I have given hints in this correspondence as to the dis
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