As Seen by a Wikitorian.

Coriobustus O'Callaghan writes to "S.J.P." from Braisedsteak Barracks, Berhampore, as follows:—

"Since I have been here, my view-point on most things that matter hasn't materially changed. It's staggering—the stabilising effect of staying in one place. I just keep right on here, and find that, although foreigners still seem stupid, my neighbours aren't half so bad. They not only tolerate me, but welcome my presence, and only get worked up over such incomprehensible atrocities as Modern Hart and Hintellectualism.

"Berhampore is a gorgeous place. It is the super super. There is an indescribable 'Qu'est-ce que c'est?'—forgive the claptrap!-which oozes out of one no matter how much of a greenhorn he may be. Naturally I revel in every second of this scintillating upsurge. Recently I excelled even myself by getting the Berhampore Boys' Brigade Badge, which makes me positively refulgent. You see, the Boys' Brigades are all the rage here, and to get the badge is the aim of every genuine Berhamporovian (Boron for short). That is really why Berhampore is such a lovely place—it's so full of boys wearing their badges, and fine, upstanding, full-chested youngsters they are, too I've also won eminence and distinction in marbles and tag, and am leader of my hoop brigade; so altogether I'm absolutely sitting on the top of the fence. When I have time to stay home, I do a modest meed of knitting-fascinating work.

"I'm also able to say that the Australians have nothing on us in barrow-pushing. I recently completed a circuit of Athletic Park with my trolley, and am anxiously awaiting to hear if my record time will be recognised by the Inter-suburban Trolleypushers' Federation. I'm also writing a history of the development of the trolley and go-cart from the earliest times—this in collaboration with the Minister of Transport, whose assistance I have consented to accept. Anyway, look out for my coming masterpiece, in my new Berhampore brogue, entitled 'Adelaide Road.'

"Just now Berhampore is en route-to the Chewing-gum Championships. I'm coaxing the P.K. Pack, so we are doing quite well. People just jam into the alleyways, and you've hardly room to wobble your chin.

"Berhampore is the home of extreme offspring. There's a crib for youngsters with every type of bib, and the Mothers' Union has Baby Shows with some remarkable subjects. The general view is, without a doubt, Plunketism—young squealers with stubby, immature fingers—rather pathetic sometimes—hardly an opiate for the growing fear of paternity."

—Cato.