OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Proclamation 5641

Delivered on 28 April 1987.
By the President of the United States of America A Proclamation
For more than 70 years, we Americans have set aside the second Sunday in May to honor our mothers and tell them of our love. No matter how often we express these tributes of the heart throughout the year, we choose to do so in a special way on Mother's Day.
That is because we know and can never forget all that our mothers have given us every day, year by year, in love and courage, in toil and sacrifice, in prayer and example, in faith and forgiveness. There is no love like a mother's-she who carries the child that God knits in the womb, she who nourishes and guides, she who teaches and inspires, she who gives of her heart and soul and self for the good and the happiness of her children and her family.
As mothers help give their families a stability rooted in love, steadfastness, devotion, and morality, they strengthen our communities and our Nation at the same time. Mother's Day is a wonderful time for each of us to give thanks for America's mothers and for all they mean and have meant to our country and our history. It is also a time to thank our own mothers; and whether we may do this in person still, or by loving memory, let us do it with all the love and thanks and prayer we possess.
In recognition of the contributions of mothers to their families and to our Nation, the Congress, by a joint resolution approved May 8, 1914 (38 Stat. 770), has designated the second Sunday in May each year as Mother's Day and requested the President to call for its appropriate observance.
Now, Therefore, I, Ronald Reagan, President of the United States of America, do hereby request that Sunday, May 10, 1987, be observed as Mother's Day. I urge all Americans to express their love and respect for their mothers and to reflect on the importance of motherhood to the well-being of our country. I direct government officials to display the flag of the United States on all Federal government buildings, and I urge all citizens to display the flag at their homes and other suitable places on that day.
In Witness Whereof, I have hereunto set my hand this twenty-eighth day of April, in the year of our Lord nineteen hundred and eighty-seven, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and eleventh.
RONALD REAGAN
[Filed with the Office of the Federal Register, 10:44 a.m., April 29, 1987]
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Proclamation 5639

Delivered on 26 April 1987.
By the President of the United States of America A Proclamation
Two hundred years ago, when our Founding Fathers drafted the Constitution that has remained our charter of liberty, they began it with the immortal words, "We the People." These are but three words, yet they say everything about America and about Americans. We have Godgiven dignity and rights neither granted by the state nor subject to it; we take responsibility for living our lives in freedom; and we come to the assistance of our neighbors in time of need.
The spirit of "We the People" is the American spirit, and we Americans will always honor it and live by it. Just one example of this is our heritage of voluntarism, which is flourishing today. "We the People"-89 million of us-volunteer our time, energy, talents, and material resources to create a better America. There is no problem facing us today that volunteers are not addressing. We can all be grateful to America's generous volunteers and glad that the tradition of voluntarism will continue to serve us in the future as it has in the past.
Now, Therefore, I, Ronald Reagan, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and laws of the United States, in recognition of the indispensable contributions volunteers make to our national life, do hereby proclaim the week of April 26 through May 2, 1987, as National Volunteer Week: Our Constitutional Heritage, and I call upon the people of the United States to commemorate the week with appropriate ceremonies and activities.
In Witness Whereof, I have hereunto set my hand this 26th day of April, in the year of our Lord nineteen hundred and eightyseven, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and eleventh.
RONALD REAGAN
[Filed with the Office of the Federal Register, 11:18 a.m., April 28, 1987]
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Proclamation 5634

Delivered on 21 April 1987.
By the President of the United States of America A Proclamation
For 30 years, as the United States has celebrated the first of May as Law Day, U.S.A., Americans have taken time to reflect on our legal heritage and the greatness it has brought to our Nation. This year, Law Day is of special significance because its theme, "We the People," highlights one of the most important observances of our time-the Bicentennial of the Constitution, our charter of liberty and justice under law.
Abraham Lincoln characterized our government as being "of the people, by the people, and for the people." The same can be said of the Constitution. It is the framework of our Republic, enshrining liberty for all alike. Two centuries ago, this immortal document was drafted by Americans who had fought a Revolution for the freedom they cherished and who shaped their dreams of freedom into a blueprint for a free Nation for a free people whose Godgiven liberties would never again be subject to the arbitrary dominance of any one individual.
The Preamble of our Constitution begins, "We the People of the United States, . . . do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America." Here is the genius, the hope, and the promise of America forever and for all mankind: "We the People." In our Constitution, we the people tell government what it may do and what it may not; the people are sovereign, not the state. Thanks to our Constitution, the rule of law in the United States means the rule of the people. This is the difference between our Constitution and so many others; this is freedom.
Law Day, U.S.A., is a time to give thanks for our legacy of liberty under law and for the Constitution that preserves this priceless heritage-and to recall our sacred trust as Americans to protect our Constitution and our country as others have done for us.
Now, Therefore, I, Ronald Reagan, President of the United States of America, do hereby proclaim Friday, May 1, 1987, as Law Day, U.S.A. I urge the people of the United States to use this occasion to reflect on our Constitution and its protection of the rights and liberties of "We the People." I call upon the legal profession, schools, public bodies, libraries, courts, the communications media, business, the clergy, civic, service, and fraternal organizations, and all interested individuals and organizations to join in efforts to focus attention on the need for the rule of law. I also call upon all public officials to display the flag of the United States on all government buildings on Law Day.
In Witness Whereof I have hereunto set my hand this twenty-first day of April, in the year of our Lord nineteen hundred and eighty-seven, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and eleventh.
RONALD REAGAN
[Filed with the Office of the Federal Register, 11:27 a. m., April 22, 1987]
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3821/Valhalla

VALHALLA.
(A vision and a protest.)
I saw in the night unbroken,
In the land the daylight shuns,
At their long tables oaken
The Sea-kings and the Huns.
Strong arms had they for smiting,
To them death only gave
More feasting and more fighting,
More plunder for the brave.
Scant use had they for pleaders,
They boasted of their war,
The pitiless bright-eyed leaders,
And their battle-god was Thor.
And When this right hand falters,"
Quoth one, "the soul is fled;" "And I made so many altars
Ruinous," this one said.
And lo! as they sat and vaunted
Across the mist of the years,
There came to them one that flaunted
The helm of the war-god's peers.
A little shape and a mightless,
And the strong men laughed and roared: "Is our father Odin sightless
That bade him share the board?
"From what realms spoilt and plundered,
From what shrines burnt art come?
Has thine hand hewed and thundered
On the crosses of Christendom?"
And he said, "I too had legions,
I fouled where ye defiled,
I trod in the selfsame regions
And warred on woman and child.
"Tricked out in my shining armour
And riding behind my Huns,
I harried the priest and farmer,
I followed the smoking guns."
But the kings cried out and shouted
As they drained the sweetened mead: "Was it thus that the Franks were routed,
When we made Europe bleed?
"This king with a leaden rattle
And death that comes from afar,
What pride hath he of the battle?
What lust to maim or mar?
"The loot and the red blood running
Were the only signs we saw;
But the gods that gave thee cunning
Have also given thee law."
And a Northman spake: "With seven
Fair churches when I died
I had paved my path to heaven;
Their pillage was my pride.
"I tore the saints from their niches
With the red hands of my rage;
But what hast thou in thy ditches
To do with a craftless age?
"Thou hast felt no Viking's starkness;
Thou hast lost a Christian's throne." And they drove him forth in the darkness To find a place of his own.
Evoe.
# Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3822/A Sea Change

A SEA CHANGE.
Ponto in town is strictly comme il faut, A member of the most exclusive set (His pedigree and dwelling all may know Who read page 90 in the "Dogs' Debrett").
His mien is dignified, his gait is slow; If upstart strangers try to catch his eye He kicks the dust behind with scornful toe, Averts his lifted nose and passes by.
His friends he greets with careful etiquette, Permits his well-poised tail-tip to vibrate, Then treads with them the solemn minuet That antique custom and good form dictate.
But Ponto by the sea! ah, who would know This damp wild ragamuffin on the strand Who importunes the passers-by to throw Big stones across the opal-shining sand?
Ponto dishevelled, ears turned inside out, Has suffered some sea change; his social worth Is all forgot; he leads a Comus rout, Tykes of the shore and curs of lowly birth.
Yelping with joy he brings his wolfish pack About my legs, as, dripping from the sea, I pick my way thro' shingle and wet wrack Beleaguered by this bandit company.
But when the day comes round to leave the shore Ponto puts off this maniac Mr. Hyde; Becomes a Dr. Jekyll dog once more And homeward goes serene and dignified.
# Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3822/Burgomaster Max

BURGOMASTER MAX.
Belgian soldiers, martial heroes, in a world of fire and flame, By their fortitude and daring have achieved immortal fame, But there's one, a more civilian, who a vates sacer lacks— Burgomaster Max!
Therefore let a sorry rhymer offer you his humble meed, And salute your priceless service to your country in her need, All unarmed yet undefeated, never turning in your tracks— Burgomaster Max!
Athanasius contra mundum—you remind us of the tag, You whose fearless manifestoes never brooked the German gag; Bucking up your fellow-townsmen when their hearts were weak as wax— Burgomaster Max!
Now, alas! we read the foemen have decided to deport And intern you for a season in some dismal German fort, For your presence was distasteful to the Hun who sacks and "hacks"— Burgomaster Max!
Yet, whatever fate befalls you, as the ages onward roll You will live in deathless lustre on your country's Golden Roll, For you faced the German bullies with the stiffest of stiff backs— Burgomaster Max!
# Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3822/Another Scrap of Paper

ANOTHER "SCRAP OF PAPER."
["The Times" of October 1st vouches for the following Army Order issued by the German Kaiser on August 19th: "It is my Royal and Imperial Command that you concentrate your energies, for the immediate present, upon one single purpose, and that is that you address all your skill and all the valour of my soldiers to exterminate first the treacherous English and walk over General French's contemptible little Army."]
Wilhelm, I do not know your whereabouts. The gods elude us. When we would detect your Earthly address, 'tis veiled in misty doubts Of devious conjecture.
At Nancy, in a moist trench, I am told That you performed an unrehearsed lustration; That there you linger, having caught a cold, Followed by inflammation.
Others assert that your asbestos hut, Conveyed (with you inside) to Polish regions, Promises to afford a likely butt To Russia's wingéd legions.
But, whether this or that (or both) be true, Or merely tales of which we have the air full, In any case I say, "O Wilhelm, do, Do, if you can, be careful!"
For if, by evil chance, upon your head, Your precious head, some impious shell alighted, I should regard my dearest hopes as dead, My occupation blighted.
I want to save you for another scene, Having perused a certain Manifesto That stimulates an itching, very keen, In every Briton's best toe—
An Order issued to your Army's flower, Giving instructions most precise and stringent For the immediate wiping out of our "Contemptible" contingent.
Well, that's a reason why I'd see you spared; So take no risks, but rather heed my warning, Because I have a little plan prepared For Potsdam, one fine morning.
I see you, ringed about with conquering foes— See you, in penitential robe (with taper), Invited to assume a bending pose And eat that scrap of paper!
O. S.
# Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3822/A Possible Source

A POSSIBLE SOURCE.
Dear Mr. Punch,—Having recently dropped into several London theatres and halls of variety I have been struck by the numerical strength, agility and apparently abounding vitality of the young men forming the chorus. These gallant fellows sing and caper with the utmost spirit throughout the whole evening, both in musical comedy or revue; and in London alone, where revues are now being postponed at many of the outlying halls, there must be more than a thousand of them. Now and then they even go so far as to impersonate recruits—the chorus to the recruiting songs which have crept into more than one programme—and they make, I can assure you, Sir, a very brave show with their refles and their miliary paces, a little accelerated perhaps by the exigencies of the tune, but a marvel of discipline none the less.
Watching these brisk and efficient male choruses at work, the thought has come to me—in fact has often been forced upon me by the martial nature of the musical number which they were engaged in rendering with so much capability and cheerfulness—that at a time when England is particularly in need of her young men in the field, the audiences of London might consent to forgo a little of the pleasure that comes from watching athletic youths covered with grease-paint and gyrating in the limelight, and, by expressing their readiness to see these necessary evolutions carried out by older men, liberate so much good material to join the Army. Such is the power of the make-up (I am told) that a man of fifty could easily be arranged to look sufficiently like a man of half his age, at any rate without imperilling the success of the entertainment from the point of view of the spectator. And of course the girls will remain in all their charm, since girls cannot enlist.
The point may be worth considering. The decision, I feel sure, rests entirely with the public. If the public says: "Let the young go, and give us more mature choristers for a while, and we will patriotically endeavour to endure the privation"—then all the young men will, of course, enlist as one. But unless the public says this they must remain in the choruses against the grain.
I am, Sir,
Yours gratefully,
Over Age.
# Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3822/Cannon Fodder

CANNON FODDER.
(Thus the War Party designates the rank and file of the German army.)
They are coming like a tempest, in their endless ranks of grey, While the world throws up a cloud of dust along their awful way; They're the glorious cannon fodder of the mighty Fatherland, Who shall make the kingdoms tremble and the nations understand.
Tramp! tramp! tramp! the cannon fodder comes. God help the old; God help the young; God help the hearths and homes. They'll do his will that taught them, on the earth and on the waves, Then, like faithful cannon fodder, still salute him from their graves.
From the barrack and the fortress they are pouring in a flood; They sweep, a herd of winter wolves, upon the scent of blood; For all their deeds of horror they are told that death atones And their master's harvest cannot spring till he has sowed their bones.
Into beasts of prey he's turned them; when they show their teeth and growl The lash is buried in their cheeks; they're slaughtered if they howl; To their bloody Lord of Battles must they only bend the knee, For hard as steel and fierce as hell should cannon fodder be.
Scourge and curses are their portion, pain and hunger without end, Till they hail the yell of shrapnel as the welcome of a friend; They rape and burn and laugh to hear the frantic women cry And do the devil's work to-day, but on the morrow die.
A million souls, a million hearts, a million hopes and fears, A million million memories of partings and of tears March along with cannon fodder to the agony of war. Have they lost their human birthright? Are they fellow-men no more?
Tramp! tramp! tramp! the cannon fodder comes. God help the old; God help the young; God help the bearths and homes. They'll do his will that taught them, on the earth and on the waves, Then, like faithful cannon fodder, still salute him from their graves.
# Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3822/Charivaria

A weekly selection of short humorous items, normally on the first page of each issue.
CHARIVARIA.
General Villa has now declared war on President Carranza. Everybody's doing it.
Is there, we wonder, a single unfair weapon which the Germans have not used? It is now said that not infrequently a German band is made to play when the enemy's infantry advances to attack.
A regrettable mistake is reported from South London. A thoroughly patriotic man was sat upon by a Cockney crowd for declaring that the Kaiser was a Nero.
Servia, The Times announces, will in future be called Serbia in our contemporary's columns. We would suggest that in the same way Bavaria might be called Babaria.
All German soldiers are close-cropped. To show, apparently, that they have the courage of the conviction they deserve.
The German officers in France are said to be extremely careful as to what they eat, betraying a great fear of being poisoned. It is, of course, a fact that one grain of vermin-killer would dispose of any one of them.
It has been suggested that the explanation of the Kaiser may be that he is a "throwback." His parents were gentlefolk, but his ancestor, Frederick William I., was a well-known undesirable.
It has been decided, after all, that Shakspeare may be played in Germany; and the proposal that the name of the bard should be changed to Wilhelm Säbelschüttler has been dropped in deference to the wishes of the Kaiser, who thought it might lead to confusion.
It has, we are glad to see, been denied that Carpentier, the famous boxer, has been wounded. This reminds us, by-the-by, of one more miscalculation that the German War Party made. In choosing their date for the outbreak of war they relied on the face that Carpentier was not yet liable for service.
The Germans have had a bright new idea, and are calling us a nation of shopkeepers. Certainly we have been fairly successful so far in repelling their counter attacks.
   "GERMAN PIES SHOT."
   Times.
Sound policy this. The enemy cannot fight without his commissariat.
A well-known Floor Polish firm has issued a notice declaring that it is entirely a British concern. However, we shall not complain of their dealing with an alien enemy if they care to supply a little of it for the benefit of German manners.
Dr. Karl Vollmöller, who is chiefly notable for his spectacle "The Miracle," has, The Express tells us, been acting for th epast month as Germany's head Press agent in Rome, and has now sailed for New York. One would have thought that there was greater need for him in Germany, where only a miracle can save the situation.
Publishers seem to be realising that books, to sell nowadays, must have warlike titles. Mrs. Kate Douglas Wiggin's new volume is, we note, called A Summer in a Cañon.
By the way, The Price of Love is announced. It is six shillings.
# Protestant Exiles from France/Book First - Chapter 15 - Meres, Myller, and Evan

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Meres, Myller, and Evan.
There are no extant registers of the City of London French Church of earlier date than January 1599 (o.s.). I find the following baptisms recorded in London parish church registers at earlier dates, and entered as having been performed in the French Church.
10th September 1564. — Hester, daughter of John Meres. Registered at St. Dionis Backchurch.
28th June 1570. — Peter and Barbara, twins, son and daughter of Mychaell Myller, a Frenchman. Registered at St. Michael’s, Cornhill. (Both children died.)
19th November 1583. — Jane, daughter of Giles Evan. Registered at St. Antholin’s.
# Protestant Exiles from France/Book First - Chapter 15 - Paget

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Paget.
Valerian Paget, a French Protestant refugee, settled in Leicestershire in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Leonard Paget, his son, founded a family represented in last century by Thomas Paget, Esq. of Humberstone, near Leicester, a landowner. He was famous as a breeder of cattle, and later in life joined with a partner in founding the Leicester Bank, which still exists under the firm of Thomas Paget and Thomas Tertius Paget, having its head office in the county town, and branch offices at Melton-Mowbray and Loughborough. Thomas Paget, its founder, had a son, Thomas, born in 1779, who was elected one of the M.P.’s for Leicestershire in 1831, and retired in 1832. Having taken an intense interest in the Reform Act, he was equally gratified by the passing of the new Municipal Corporations Act, under which he was the first Mayor of Leicester in 1836. He died at Humberstone on 25th November 1862, aged eighty-three. Among other descendants of the old refugee I observe the names of Edmund Arthur Paget, Esq. of Thorpe, near Melton, and Charles Paget, Esq. of Ruddington, late M.P. for Nottingham.
# Protestant Exiles from France/Book First - Chapter 15 - Marindin

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Marindin.
Marindin is a good old Huguenot surname. Pierre Marindin was a refugee from the St. Bartholomew Massacre, and adopted Switzerland as his country. His descendants are distinctly traced in “Burke’s Landed Gentry.” His great-great-grandson, Pierre Marindin, born 1701, was elected a town councillor of Vevay in 1742. Two of the councillor’s sons settled in England, of whom Jean Ferdinand Marindin was childless, but Jean Philippe Marindin (born in 1742) founded a flourishing English family. His grandson, Samuel Peter (born 1778, died 1839) was the father of Rev. Samuel Marindin (born 1807, died 1852), a Dorsetshire rector, but a Hampshire landed proprietor, known as Marindin of Chesterton, His surviving brother was Major Henry Richard Marindin of the 1st Royals (born 1812, died 1877). The reverend gentleman had six sons, one of whom is Major Francis Arthur Marindin, of the Royal Engineers, born 1st May 1838. The head of the family of that generation died in 1872, leaving a son and heir.
# Protestant Exiles from France/Book First - Chapter 15 - Sexton and another

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Sexton and another.
“To two poor learned French preachers” Robert Nowell extended his bounty at the St. Bartholomew period. I have no information regarding them. Here is the entry in his “Spending of the Money”:—
Too towe poor larned prechers frenche one m$^{r.}$ sexton, the other sengreins, the viij$^{o.}$ of Martche A$^{o.}$ 1573 . . . Xs.
[Perhaps the name of the former was Sacristain or Secretan.]