Summary

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

When all these things occur we of the Navy will know that our day is past and done.
Why our Mr. Spooner is such a remarkable fellow is because he can sit deep in an easy-chair and recite these things without turning a single hair on his top lip. Of course he realises that the work of the Navy must go on—until the crash descends. But it is rather unsettling for us. It seems to give us all a sort of impermanent feeling. Quite naturally we all ask what is the use of keeping up the log and painting the ship? Why isn't all the spare energy in the ship bent to polishing up our boat-drill?
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

Uncle Billy lifted his hat reverently. "The ginger one is Comrade—a fine name."
"Why, 'tis a little sow."
"And what better comrade than a blessed female, my loving dear, and who'd know that better than me?"
"Don't you go mixing me up with the pigs, Willum; I won't have it. What's the name of that perky black one?"
"Mount Royal," said Uncle Billy. "I'm a King's man and like to respect they set over me. Royal just means one of the King's family."
The parade was dismissed; the herd returned to its home and Uncle Billy paid the cost of wear and tear.
Source: Gutenberg

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