Summary

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

Percy looked wildly around. "There's the Artillery," he gasped, "if that's your advice."
Private Penny burst into a sob of uncontrollable anguish. "Percy," he moaned, "if you want to break me heart, that's the way to do it! Say I've advised you to that, if you like, but it ain't true. With all me soul I says—don't do it. Think, dear boy, think. Kinsider the guns!—the noise—the smoke—the smell—the bursting shells all round—the mad horses and mules everywhere. If you 'ave any affection for me in your 'eart, Percival, leave the guns alone!
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

I have seen a bullfinch swell up in a passionate agitation of love when from its cage it beheld its dear mistress enter the room, but it had never occurred to me before this to attribute such a feeling to a dove. I ought, I suppose, to have known better, as I now do. At this very moment it is cooing away like mad at its declaration of undying love from its favourite haunt on the mantelpiece of one of the bedrooms.
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

And then suddenly we became aware that Private Penny was mourning gently to himself over a dough-nut.
"Pore chap!" he was muttering, "pore young feller—'e don't know. None of 'em knows till it's too late, and then they finds their mistake. No good to tell 'em—pore chap, pore chap—so pleased over it, too!"
"What's that you're saying?" the youth cut in anxiously.
"Young man," said Private Penny very solemnly, "if you'd take my advice—the advice of one that's served his country twelve months at the Front—you'd let the Army Service Corps alone.
Source: Gutenberg

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