R. A. Thorold

“ It was a sight
To bid men gape in wonderment, and praise
My patient courage that endured despite
The gibes of friends and Delia's pitying ways.
Ah, cruel fate that forced my hand to snip
Such cosily growth as graced my upper lip!
Moustache most cherished! Not as other men
That let their lush growth riot as it will,
With just a formal waxing now and then,
Did I maintain it. Nay, with loving skill
And all the precious oils within the ken
Of cunning alchemists I strove until
Its soaring points aspired to pierce the skies,
And I was martial in my Delia's eyes. ”

“ And dragged great chunks of hair out by the roots,
Forgetting mine was not a German head.
"Oh, yes, they'll get it in the neck," said he
And gaily emphasized his prophecy.
Ah me, that ruthless Britisher! He scored
His parallel entrenchments round and round
My quivering scalp. "Invade us 'ere?" he roared;
"Not bloomin' likely! Not on British ground!" ”

“ Great feat by Mascot (medium) ."
"No ally feels
Hungry or tired who carries Ponk's Pastilles."
"The nicest present you can get
To soothe the soldier's nerve is
Our Black Maria cigarette—
The best for active service!" ”