Summary

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

A strange waiter showed me to my place, and Joseph was nowhere to be seen. Indeed a wholly different air seemed to pervade the place since my last visit. Presently I beckoned to a waiter whom I recognised as having served under the old régime. "Where is Monsieur Joseph?" I asked him.
"Where indeed, Sir!" the man replied. "It is all so strange. One day it is arranged that he shall take over the restaurant and its staff, and on the next he come to say 'Good-bye' to us all, and then leave for France. Oh, it is drôle. So good a business man to lose the chance that comes once only in a life!
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

The Colonel nodded. "Man, I know, I know; but look at 'em"—he pointed to the pathetic remnant of his battalion lying out behind the crest—"they're dropping asleep where they lie—they're beat to a finish—not another kick left in 'em."
He sat down and buried his face in his hands. The redoubtable Antrims had come to the end.
Suddenly came a shout from the Senior Captain, "Good Lord, what's that fellow after? Who the devil is it?"
They all turned and saw a tiny figure, clad only in underclothes, marching deliberately over the ridge towards the Germans.
Source: Gutenberg

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