A FAMOUS VICTORY.

Observer, Volume XXXVI, Issue 49, 12 August 1916, Page 11

A FAMOUS VICTORY.

It was a summer evening, Old Bethmann's beer was done, And he, before the sandy shore Was sitting in the sun, Instructing—for the hundredth time His grandson Fritz yon Hoggenheim. " 'Twas where the German. Ocean rears Its crests of snowy foam, Wo met and beat the British Fleet, And then retreated home. We bolted like the deuce," said he, "After that famous victory. "When things were looking very blue A shoreward course we shaped; We lost about a score of ships, But all the rest escaped. And, in unconquerable pride, Made for a port in which to hide. "A world of human pity filled Our noble Admiral's mind, And so he broke the action off And left the foe behind. We always act like that," said he, "After a famous victory. "In our communiques we made No indiscreet remark, For we had cautiously resolved To keep our losses dark; A course invariably applied By people on the winning side. "And, after that, the beaten foe Blockaded all our ports, And ran us short of meat and bread, And goods of various sorts. Such things as this must always be After a famous victory." "But why did we allow them to?" The artless Fritz inquired, "Because they had so strong a fleet They did as they desired. Such cruel things must always be While brutal Britain rules the sea.' "But, Granpapa," said little Fritz, "If we had really won, Why did not Prussia rule the sea, As Britain once had done?" "Oh, shut your silly mouth!" said he, "It was a famous victory." Horace Wyatt, in London "Chronicle."