Our Brave Lions Have Been Defeated

It is with great sadness that I heard on the wires that our brave Lions have been defeated on the high veldt by those pesky Boers.

The error of course was in the choice of Captain. No side proclaiming to represent this Sceptered Isle should be led into battle by anyone other than a proud upstanding Englishman. I acknowledge that our Celtic brethren make super infantrymen and they work wonders with a pick axe down the mine.

However, all on these isles look to the charm of an Englishmen to lead the line into battle and outwit our colonial opponents with a caddish wink and a languid air.

America – Coming to One’s Senses

A while ago, we indulged our colonial children from across the pond, and permitted them a degree of self rule.

This was against our better judgement, but in the spirit of paternalism we ruling classes felt that the Americans could be trusted to have a degree of autonomy.

We have tolerated their mistakes and their occasional petulance: their adolescent punch up of 1812 with the loyalists across the 49th Parallel; their tardy entry into various wars; and their obsession with insipid meat products wrapped in a bun.

However, eight years ago, they seemed to forget their feudal obligations and elect a half wit to run them. It made me wonder why they had got rid of Good King George all those years ago.

My learned colleagues in the Lords were forced to down our port and approach the real chap who runs America, our Queen’s representative the Governor General, and urge him to do something. The GG has said that it is not too easy to sway these colonial whippersnappers without a little tantrum and some attempt to pretend that they have independent thought from their masters in London. 

Lessons needed to be learnt and I am pleased to report that today they have taken our counsel and elected a Jolly Good Fellow to the White House.

It is always immensely gratifying to see our Colonial Children come to heel and learn from their mistakes. Let us hope that this is the end of it and no more shall they have the pretence of “knowing better.” Henceforth, shall they take their master’s advice and defer to England.


Bank Holidays Are So Very Tiresome

I do find bank holidays so very tiresome. They were introduced by the trading classes as a sop to those who were even lower down the social scale than themselves.

Why do the labourers feel as though they should have an extra day off? Is not one morning a week to go to Church sufficient? 

If those who serve us have a day at some squalid seaside town, who is there to iron my Thunderer, mix my morning Bloody Mary, or butter my crumpet in the dull time before the bar opens at 6?

Furthermore, the tracks and lanes are full of the hoi polloi traipsing to their Great Aunt’s cabbage infused hovel. I can barely pass them in my Four Wheel Carriage without knocking them into the ditches and drains.

Needless to say, I vehemently opposed the passing of The Bank Holiday Act in the Lords. It was one of the few debates that I have managed to awaken from my drunken slumber during the proceedings and stir myself into arguing a coherent stream of invectives against giving the labourers any rights beyond their feudal obligations. 

We lost the vote due to a large section of Whigs deciding that patronising the lower classes would earn them their love and affection. Do they not realise that this type of behaviour will lead us down the rocky path which can only end in the ghastly guillotine?