"I trust not."
"It seems the fashion to assume so here, at any rate," said _Mr.
Punch_, not without a hazy recollection of having heard very similar
sentiments in Music Halls much nearer home than Seriocomix. "The young
woman is probably an authority on the subject. Are you off already?"
"Yes," said TIME, as he made for the exit. "I think she is going to
sing again presently. Come along!"
At the next Music Hall they were just in time to hear the announcement
of a new Patriotic Song, and old TIME, who had in his day seen great
and noble deeds accomplished by men who loved and were proud of their
Fatherland, was disposed to congratulate both himself and the audience
on the choice of topic.
Only, as the song went on, he seemed dissatisfied somehow, as if he
had expected some loftier and more exalted strain. And yet it was a
high-spirited song, too, and told the Seriocomicans what fine fellows
they were, and how naturally superior to the inhabitants of all other
planets, while the chorus ran as follows:--
"Yes, we never stand a foreigner's dictation!
No matter if we're wrong or if we're right;
We're a breed of good old bulldogs as a nation,
And we never stop to bark before we bite!"
And then the singer, a fat-necked man, in a kind of military uniform,
drew a sword and struck an attitude, amidst red fire, which aroused
vociferous enthusiasm.
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