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diff --git a/old/10711-h/10711-h.htm b/old/10711-h/10711-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fa3136d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10711-h/10711-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2107 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 153, Oct. 3, 1917, by Various</title> +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[*/ + + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + .note, + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;} + + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .figure, .figcenter, .figright + {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img, .figcenter img, .figright img + {border: none;} + .figure p, .figcenter p, .figright p + {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + + .footnote {font-size: 0.9em; margin-right: 10%; margin-left: 10%;} + + .side { float:right; + font-size: 75%; + width: 25%; + padding-left:10px; + border-left: dashed thin; + margin-left: 10px; + text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; + font-weight: bold; + font-style: italic;} + --> +/*]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 153, +Oct. 3, 1917, by Various, Edited by Owen Seamen</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a> + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 153, Oct. 3, 1917 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 13, 2004 [eBook #10711] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: iso-8859-1 + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 153, OCT. 3, 1917*** + + +</pre> +<center><h3>E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram,<br /> + Punch, or the London Charivari,<br /> + William Flis,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3></center> +<br /> +<hr class="full" /> +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> +<h2>Vol. 153.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>October 3, 1917.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page231" id="page231"></a>[pg +231]</span> +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> +<p>There is no truth in the rumour that the Imperial Government is +trying to secure from KING ALFONSO an agreement that German +prisoners shall not escape on Sundays or in batches of more than +fifty at a time.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"Far better another year of war," said the Bishop of LONDON in a +recent sermon, "than to leave it to the baby in the cradle to do it +over again." Too much importance should not be attached to these +ill-judged reflections on the younger members of the Staff.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>In Berlin a crowd of people attempted to do some injury to an +officer on the paltry excuse that he ordered the execution of +thirty people for alleged espionage. The German people have always +been a little jealous of the privileges of the military.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Captain N. BERNIERS, who has just returned to Quebec, reports +that the Eskimos had not heard of the War. We should be the last to +worry Lord NORTHCLIFFE at present, but it certainly looks as if the +Circulation Manager of <i>The Daily Mail</i> has been slacking.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>We really think more care should be taken by the authorities to +see that, while waging war on the Continent, they do not forget the +defence of those at home. The fact that Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL and +Mr. HORATIO BOTTOMLEY were away in France at the same time looks +like gross carelessness.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"Next to the field of Mars we must pay homage to the forge of +Vulcan," said the KAISER in a recent speech. A stout fellow, this +Vulcan, but as a forger not really in the ALL-HIGHEST'S class.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Taxicabs are to be entitled to charge a shilling for the first +mile. The bus fare for the remainder of the distance will be the +same as heretofore.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>It is stated that fifty per cent. of the sugar forms have been +filled in wrong. On the other hand a number of our youthful +hedonists are complaining that as far as sugar is concerned their +forms have never been anywhere near filled in.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A Wood Green gentleman has written to an evening paper to say +that he has grown a vegetable marrow which weighs forty-three +pounds. There is some talk of his being elected an Honorary +Angler.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A Grimsby lady who has just celebrated her hundredth birthday +states that she has never visited a cinema theatre. We felt sure +there must be an explanation somewhere.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>It seems a pity that the Willesden Health Committee should have +troubled to pass a resolution about the decreasing birth-rate. When +we remember air-raids and the shortage of sugar it is only natural +that people should show a disinclination to be born just now.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"I don't care how soon a General Election comes," says Mr. JOHN +DILLON, M.P. It is this dare-devil spirit which has made so many +Irishmen what they are. The recruiting officer has no terrors for +them.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>HENRY ELIONSKY, of New York, has succeeded in swimming seven +miles with his legs tied to a chair and with heavy boots and +clothing. It is not known why he did it, but we gather that CHARLIE +CHAPLIN is now wondering whether he was wise, after all, in +becoming a naturalised American.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The wave of crime still sweeps the country. On top of the +£30,000 jewel robbery comes the news that a man has been +charged with breaking into a London tobacconist's shop and stealing +a box of matches value ½<i>d.</i> (price +1½<i>d.</i>).</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A letter has just reached a City office addressed to the tenants +who occupied the premises twenty years ago. Fortunately such cases +of loitering on the part of our postmen are extremely rare.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>An infuriated bull has been killed in High Street, Tonbridge, +after wrecking several shop windows. It is thought that the animal +had misread the directions on its sugar card.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A number of people have complained that they could hear nothing +of the recent air-raids over London, owing to the noise of the +firing being drowned by the admonitory activities of the +police.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href= +"images/231.png"><img width="100%" src="images/231.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<h3>THE BULLDOG BREED.</h3> +<p><i>Company Commander</i> (<i>making sure of his men before the +show</i>). "NOW, WHEN WE GO OVER THE TOP TO-MORROW, YOU ALL KNOW +WHAT YOU'RE TO MAKE FOR?"</p> +<p><i>Chorus of Tommies</i>. "YUSS, SIR."</p> +<p><i>C.C.</i> "WHAT IS IT, THEN?"</p> +<p><i>Chorus</i>. "THEY GERMANS, SIR."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>Our Centripetists.</h3> +<blockquote>"Mrs. Eckstein and Miss Eckstein have returned to +London from Scotland, and they are leaving London immediately for +London."—<i>Brighton Standard and Fashionable Visitors' +List</i>.</blockquote> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"The Irish farmers are confident that the Food +Controller's declared intention to fix the price of cattle at +6<i>s.</i> per cwt. for next January will not be carried into +effect. They believe that Lord Rhondda must realise the necessity +of making a substantial increase on this figure."—<i>Saturday +Herald (Dublin)</i>.</blockquote> +<p>Lord RHONDDA, we understand, has already met the Irish farmers +more than halfway by fixing the price at 60<i>s.</i></p> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"The Apia Blacksmiths, Ltd., will undertake contracts +for the building of houses, with or without +material."—<i>Samoa Times</i>.</blockquote> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"And gives to airy nothing</p> +<p>A local habitation."—<i>Shakspeare</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>Taking Our Pleasures Sadly.</h3> +<p>A correspondent informs us that the playbill of IBSEN'S +<i>Ghosts</i> at the Pavilion Theatre bears the following words: +"Mr. Neville Chamberlain says, 'It is essential there should be +provided amusements and recreations which can take people for an +hour or so out of themselves and return them to their work +refreshed and reinvigorated.'"</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page232" id="page232"></a>[pg +232]</span> +<h2>SOCIETY NOTES.</h2> +<h4><i>By The Hanger-on.</i></h4> +<h3>AIR-RAIDS AND OTHER DIVERSIONS.</h3> +<p>A promising young poet of my acquaintance, who in the midst of +war's obsessions still finds time and taste for the exercise of his +art (he is in a Government office), has allowed me to see the +opening couplet of what I understand to be a very ambitious poem. +It runs as follows:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Though overhead the Gothas buzz,</p> +<p>Stands London where it did? It does."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Many good judges of poetry to whom I have quoted these lines +think them very clever.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A witty friend of mine tells me that he is thinking of bringing +out a handy and up-to-date edition of the <i>Almanach de Gotha</i>, +special attention being paid to the changes of the Moon.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Society is always on the look-out for some new distraction from +the tedium of War. The latest vogue with smart people is to get up +little air-raid parties for the Tube, to be followed by auction or +a small boy-and-girl dance. Sections of tunnel or platform can be +engaged beforehand by arrangement with the Constabulary.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>I hear that my friend, ARTHUR BOURCHIER, continues to draw +crowds to the Oxford. I was dining the other day with a young and +brilliant officer, who has seen two months' active service in the +A.S.C. and won golden opinions at the Base, and he assured me that +there is no "Better 'Ole" than the Oxford during an air-raid.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Now that London is part of the Front, with a barrage of its own, +one has to be careful to censor one's correspondence. It is +advisable not to mention your actual address, but just to write +"Somewhere in the West-End. B.S.F." (British Sedentary Force).</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The Winter season has begun exceptionally early. Last Sunday at +Church Parade I saw Lady "Nibs" Tattenham, looking the very image +of her latest photograph in <i>The Prattler</i>, where she appears +with her pet Pekie over the legend, "Deeply interested in +War-work."</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A gallant Contemptible has been complaining to me that the Press +shows no sense of proportion in the space that it allots to +air-raids. Our casualties from that source, he said, are never one +tenth as heavy as those in France on days when G.H.Q. reports +"Everything quiet on the Western Front." I naturally disagreed with +his attitude. Nothing, I told him, is more likely to discourage the +Hun than to see column after column in our papers proving that +these visitations leave us totally unmoved. Besides it must be very +comforting to our troops in the trenches to learn in detail how +their dear ones at home are sharing the perils of the other fronts. +In any case nobody who knows our Press would doubt the purity of +their motive in reporting as many air-raid horrors as the Censor +permits.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p><i>À propos</i> of the Patriotic Press, no praise can be +too high for some of our society weeklies. They have set their +faces like flint against any serious reference to the War. When I +see them going imperturbably along the old pre-war lines, snapping +smart people at the races or in the Row, or reproducing the +devastating beauty of a revue chorus, I know that they have their +withers unwrung and their heart in the right place. I always have +one of these papers on my table to be taken as a corrective after +the daily casualty lists.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A striking feature of the Photographic Press is to be seen in +the revival of the <i>vie intime</i> of popular idols of the stage. +The human life of our great actors and actresses as revealed in +some simple rustic <i>villeggiatura</i> has always had a +fascination for a public that does not enjoy the privilege of their +private friendship. And in these strenuous War-days it is well to +bring home to the theatre-goer how necessary is domestic repose for +those who are doing their courageous bit to keep the nation from +dwelling on the inconveniences of Armageddon.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>One of the most profound after-the-war questions that is +agitating the mind of the Government is what eventually to do with +the miles of wooden and concrete villages that have sprung up all +over London like Jonah's mushroom. I hear a rumour that the House +of Commons tea-terrace will shortly be commandeered for the +erection of yet another block of buildings to accommodate yet +another Ministry—the Ministry of Demobilization of Temporary +Departmental Hutments.</p> +<p>O.S.</p> +<hr /> +<h2>THE TUBE HOTELS, LTD.</h2> +<p>[Mr. Punch has been fortunate enough to secure in advance a +prospectus of the enterprising managements.]</p> +<h3>THE CENTRAL LONDON RAILWAY</h3> +<p>offers splendid night accommodation in its magnificently +appointed stations. Every modern convenience. Luxurious lifts +conducted by the Company's own liveried attendants convey guests to +the dormitories. Constant supply of fresh ozone. Reduced terms to +season ticket holders.</p> +<h3>HÔTEL EMBANKMENT.</h3> +<p>All lines converge to this Hotel, which is therefore the most +central in London. Frequent trains convey visitors direct to their +beds. For the convenience of patrons arriving above ground or by +District, the Directors have installed a superb moving staircase, +thereby obviating the inconvenience of crowded lifts.</p> +<p>The platforms and passages are tastefully decorated with +coloured pictures by the leading firms.</p> +<p>Visitors are respectfully requested not to sleep on the moving +staircase.</p> +<h3>HÔTEL PICCADILLY CIRCUS.</h3> +<h4>In the Heart of Fashionable London.</h4> +<p>This Hotel, which is one of the deepest in London, is composed +of four magnificent platforms and nearly a mile of finely +tessellated corridors. Electric light. Constant temperature of +sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit. Excellent catering under the control +of the Automatic Machine Company. Reduced terms during moonless +nights.</p> +<h3>HÔTEL HAMPSTEAD TUBE.</h3> +<p>Situated in a commanding position, underlooking the Heath, this +hotel is positively the deepest in London. The Management has +decided to extend the accommodation during one week in each month +by offering beds on the steps of the staircase. No one has ever +been known to walk either up or down this staircase, and patrons +are therefore assured of an uninterrupted night's repose. Extremely +moderate terms are quoted for the higher flights.</p> +<h3>THE GILLESPIE ARMS.</h3> +<p>Ensure an undisturbed night's sleep by putting up at the +Gillespie Road Station Family and Commercial Hotel. Large numbers +of trains pass this station without stopping, and residents are +comparatively free from the annoyance caused by the arrival and +departure of passengers.</p> +<p>Special terms for Aliens, who are requested to bring their own +mattresses.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page233" id="page233"></a>[pg +233]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/233.png"><img width="100%" src="images/233.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<h3>A PLACE IN THE MOON.</h3> +<p>HANS. "HOW BEAUTIFUL A MOON, MY LOVE, FOR SHOWING UP ENGLAND TO +OUR GALLANT AIRMEN!"</p> +<p>GRETCHEN. "YES, DEAREST, BUT MAY IT NOT SHOW UP THE FATHERLAND +TO THE BRUTAL ENEMY ONE OF THESE NIGHTS?"</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page234" id="page234"></a>[pg +234]</span> +<h2>CODES.</h2> +<p>It began like the noise of rushing water, and for a moment the +Brigade Major hoped that somebody had taken it upon himself to wash +the orderly. The noise, however, was followed by a succession of +thumps which put an end to this pretty flight of fancy. Aghast he +surveyed the scene before him. Close to the Brigade Headquarters' +dug-out was an old French dump of every conceivable kind of +explosive made up into every known form of projectile. No longer +was it a picture of Still Life. The Sleeping Beauty was awake +indeed. The Prince had come in the form of a common whizz-bang.</p> +<p>As he looked (and ducked) a flock of aerial torpedoes, propelled +by the explosion of one of their number, rose and scattered as if +at the approach of a hostile sportsman. Another explosion blew what +seemed to be a million rockets sizzling into the air.</p> +<p>The store was on fire!</p> +<p>The Brigade Major retired.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Everybody was in the Signal dug-out (Signals build deep and +strong). Secretly the clerks were praying for the disintegration of +the typewriter and the total destruction of the overwhelming mass +of paper (paper warfare had been terrible of late). The Staff +Captain and the O.C. Gum Boots, who had been approaching the +Headquarters, were already half a mile down the road and still +going strong.</p> +<p>The Division rang up. One need hardly have mentioned that. In +times of stress the higher formations rarely fail.</p> +<p>"What's going on?" they asked.</p> +<p>The Brigade Major was just going to say, when suddenly he +remembered. That very morning he had been severely strafed for +speaking of important things over the telephone when so near the +enemy. "Had he not read the Divisional G 245/348/24 of the 29th +inst.? What was the good of issuing orders to defeat the efficiency +of the Bosch listening apparatus if they were not obeyed?" etc., +etc.</p> +<p>True, it was conceivable that even without the aid of a delicate +listening apparatus the Bosch was cognisant of an explosion that +made his whole front line quiver; still orders is orders. So the +Brigade-Major swallowed hard.</p> +<p>"C-can't tell you over the wires. Your G 245/348/24..."</p> +<p>"Yes, yes, we know all about that. Don't say it +<i>definitely</i>, but give us an <i>idea</i>. <i>Where</i> is all +this noise?"</p> +<p>"Here!—Oh!" piped the B.M. as a crump shook the receiver +out of his hand.</p> +<p>"Send it in code at once. The G.O.C. is strafing horribly to +know."</p> +<p>To encode a message which may be your last words on earth is not +the easiest of tasks. It has no romance about it. Who would relish +an obituary such as: "He died like a hero, his last words being +'XB35/067K'"?</p> +<p>To the ramping of the continuous crump the B.M. scraped away the +dirt and stuff that had fallen from the throbbing walls of his +dug-out and fished out the Code-Book. Hurriedly he turned over the +pages to "Ammunition" and read down the set phrases and their code +equivalents. Four times he relit the candle. There seemed nothing +under this heading applicable to the situation. "Send up" was one, +but that had already been done. "Am/is/are/running short of" was +another, but it was doubtful if the Division would see the real +meaning of it.</p> +<p>"Ah, here we are," he muttered, relighting the candle for the +fifth time. "Dumps." Alas, there was nothing to convey the +situation very clearly even under this heading. Finally he picked +out the nearest he could find and sent it over the wires.</p> +<p>This is what they decoded to the expectant G.O.C. of the +Division: "<i>Advanced ammunition depôt has moved</i>."</p> +<p>The G.O.C. said something which impelled the entire Divisional +Staff to the telephone, where they all grabbed for the +receiver.</p> +<p>"What the devil is this code message? We can't understand it. +You've sent in something about the dump at your Brigade +Headquarters."</p> +<p>"Ah!" said the B.M. meaningly, "there is <i>not</i> a dump at +Brigade Headquarters now."</p> +<p>"Well, I don't care. We want to know what all this noise is +about."</p> +<p>"It's the dump. It's m-moved."</p> +<p>"Moved? Moved where? Give the map reference."</p> +<p>"Map reference?" murmured the B.M. "Oh, my sacred aunt, what +fools ... I'm sorry" (he smiled at them through his teeth) "I can't +give you the <i>m-map</i> reference, but I can give you the +<i>area</i> roughly."</p> +<p>"Barmy!" was the word he heard spoken to a bystander at the +other end.</p> +<p>"Look here, old man," they said kindly, "we know you're all very +tired and worried, but just try to <i>think</i> a moment. Never +mind dumps now. You can't be making all that noise moving a +dump—what?" (Specimen of Divisional joke—very rare.) +"Tell us, is the Bosch shelling?"</p> +<p>"No. They've stopped."</p> +<p>"Good. Then it's all over?"</p> +<p>"No. It's still going on."</p> +<p>"But you just said that it had stopped."</p> +<p>"Yes, it has. But the dump hasn't. It keeps m-moving."</p> +<p>"Poor old bird," they said, "his nerve's gone at last. All +right," they shouted, "don't you worry. The storeman will look +after the dump. You go to bed and have a good sleep."</p> +<p>"Have a g-good sleep!" muttered the B.M., "that's just like the +Divis—Oh!" and he sat down as a torpedo flopped into his +bedroom a few doors away and made a hole of it.</p> +<p>Then he sat up. The storeman of the Brigade dump was not two +hundred yards away from the active one. The poor fellow was to have +gone on leave that night. Presently it occurred to him that, +instead of trying to decide who should have the reversion of the +storeman's leave, it would be better to go and see if there really +was a vacancy. Fifteen boxes of melinite delayed him but a moment. +With melinite you know the worst at once; it doesn't hang round +like boxes of ammunition, for instance. He called a clerk and +together they raced over to the storeman's dug-out.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page235" id="page235"></a>[pg +235]</span> +<p>"Jock!" cried the clerk. "Are ye there, Jock?"</p> +<p>"Is he quite dead?" said the B.M., making up his mind to use his +leave warrant for himself.</p> +<p>"No, Sir, he's very deaf, that's why he's a storeman. +Jo-ock!!"</p> +<p>"Hello!" came from the ground.</p> +<p>"Are ye all right, Jock?"</p> +<p>"Na. There's an awfu' to-do here."</p> +<p>"What's wrong then?"</p> +<p>"Ma candle keeps going oot."</p> +<p>"Are ye all right, though, Jock?"</p> +<p>"Na."</p> +<p>"Well, what's up with ye?"</p> +<p>"I told ye. Ma candle keeps going oot. What's up yon?"</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>When the B.M. got back he found a one-sided war in progress on +the telephone. The G.O.C. had heated up the wires to red-heat.</p> +<p>"Is that you, Nessel? Where the devil have you been? This noise +is still going on. Tell me what it is. No-dam-nonsense-now. Let's +have it."</p> +<p>"If you want to know and you don't mind the Bosch hearing what I +say, Sir, the dump, the French dump, has b-blown itself to +b-blazes."</p> +<p>"Why the <i>devil</i> couldn't you say so before?"</p> +<p>Every dog has his day. With a full and fatuous smile the +Brigade-Major picked up a paper and began: "Reference your G. +245/348/24 of the 29th inst. It says that—"</p> +<p>Somebody must have taken a bone away from a dog at the other +end. He growled horribly.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href= +"images/234.png"><img width="100%" src="images/234.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Flapper (shyly).</i> "COULD YOU TELL ME WHAT A STAMP STUCK ON +AT <i>THAT</i> ANGLE MEANS IN THE LANGUAGE OF POSTAGE-STAMPS?"</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<p>From an account of the Ministerial crisis in Sweden:—</p> +<blockquote>"Two imperialist minstrels, however, Von Melsted and +Lengquist, did quite enough mischief."—<i>Daily +Mail</i>.</blockquote> +<p>Members of the pro-German band, no doubt.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. Punch desires to record thanks to the innumerable +correspondents who have drawn his attention to the statement in +<i>The Daily Chronicle</i> that among the German officers who +escaped and were afterwards recaptured was "Von Thelan, a +lieutenant in the lying corps." The existence of this unit in the +German Army has, as most of them point out, been long suspected, +but never officially confirmed till now.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/235.png"><img width="100%" src="images/235.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<i>The Colonel's Daughter</i>. "WHAT A WONDERFUL VOICE AND WHAT +A PERFECT ARTIST!"<br />> +<i>The Colonel</i>. "DON'T THINK MUCH OF HIM! HE'S GOT A POCKET +UNBUTTONED." +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>TIPS FOR NON-TIPPERS.</h3> +<blockquote class="note">["If taxi-cab fares are increased it will +put a stop to tipping."—<i>Evening Paper</i>.]</blockquote> +<p>Only really robust men should refuse to tip the taxi-driver. +Many a City man has set out in the morning intent on giving no tips +and has not been heard of afterwards.</p> +<p>To enable timid men to avoid a tip, the police are providing +taxi-drivers with antiseptic mouthpieces, through which their words +may be sterilised.</p> +<p>If the driver insists on a tip do not threaten to take his +number. Just take it and run. If you haven't time for both, just +run.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote> +<p>"ALL-WOOL Black Cashmere Stockings, winter weight. 1/11½ +and 2/6 per yard."—<i>Advt. in Scotch Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>We had always thought hosiery was sold by the foot.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"On the estate of the late Hon. Lionel Walrond, +Uffculme, Devon, Robert James, 97, is felling for the purpose of +aeroplane construction aspen trees which he helped to plant 80 +years ago."—<i>The Times</i>.</blockquote> +<p>Three cheers for Mr. ROBERT JAMES! "For he's a jolly good +feller!"</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page236" id="page236"></a>[pg +236]</span> +<h2>BEASTS ROYAL.</h2> +<h3>II.</h3> +<h3>CÆSAR'S GIRAFFE. B.C. 46.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>From Egypt, Africa and Gaul</p> +<p class="i2">CÆSAR his Roman triumph brings:</p> +<p class="i2">Dark queens and ruddy-bearded kings,</p> +<p>And scowling Britons led in thrall,</p> +<p class="i2">And elephants with silver rings;</p> +<p>But oh, more excellent than all,</p> +<p class="i2">This pensive beast, this mottled beast,</p> +<p class="i2">From the marshes of the East.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Patres conscripti</i>, hail him now</p> +<p class="i2">Divine! Through Rome his triumph rolls;</p> +<p class="i2">Oysters in barrels, pearls in bowls,</p> +<p>Chariots and horsemen, moving slow</p> +<p class="i2">Where purple garlands droop on poles.</p> +<p><i>Patres conscripti</i>, crown his brow,</p> +<p class="i2">Who brought us from the golden East</p> +<p class="i2">This unimagined peerless beast!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Never has CÆSAR made our foes</p> +<p class="i2">Weep more than he has made us laugh;</p> +<p class="i2">He who divides the world in half</p> +<p>With the long shadow of his nose,</p> +<p class="i2">And bridges oceans with his staff,</p> +<p>Brings now, with pomp of vine and rose,</p> +<p class="i2">This wondering and wondrous beast</p> +<p class="i2">From the subjugated East.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>In bronze and basalt let us raise</p> +<p class="i2">The bust of CÆSAR; he has done</p> +<p class="i2">Great things for Rome; but here is one</p> +<p>Above the rest, o'ertopping praise.</p> +<p class="i2">The elephants and kings are gone,</p> +<p>But still the roaring tumult sways—</p> +<p class="i2">Much for the Conqueror of the East,</p> +<p class="i2">More for the incomparable beast.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>AN INVOLUNTARY RAID.</h2> +<p>Life in a convalescent hospital for officers is not one +continuous round of gaiety, but it has its incidents for all +that.</p> +<p>The other day Sister took Haynes, Ansell and myself to have tea +with some people in the neighbouring village of Little Budford. We +were waiting in the hall for the car when Seymour came along. +Seymour is an adjutant when he is not at home, and he likes to see +things done with proper military precision.</p> +<p>"Here," he said, "you can't go off casually like that. Fall in, +tea-party."</p> +<p>We fell in, and he went to the smoking-room and woke Major +Stanley.</p> +<p>"Party for tea ready for inspection, Sir," he reported.</p> +<p>"Who? What? Where?" asked the Major confusedly. "Good Lord, you +young idiot, what a scare you gave me! Thought I was back in France +for a moment. Where's this party paraded?"</p> +<p>"Hout in the 'all, Sir." Seymour led him to where we were +standing at ease.</p> +<p>"Party!" he roared. "Shunsuwere!" We gave two convulsive jerks. +"Smarten up there, smarten HUP! Get a move on! This ain't a +waxwork. Shunsuwere!... Shun!! Party present, Sir."</p> +<p>The Major inspected us.</p> +<p>"I don't like this smear, Sergeant," he said, pointing to +Ansell's upper lip.</p> +<p>Seymour examined the feature in question.</p> +<p>"It don't appear to be dirt, Sir. Some sort o' growth, I think. +You try sand-papering it, me lad, an' you'll find it come orf all +right."</p> +<p>"Very good, Sergeant," answered Ansell solemnly.</p> +<p>The Major proceeded to Haynes, and eyed him with disfavour.</p> +<p>"We can't do nothing with this man, Sir," said Seymour +deprecatingly. "'Is legs is that bandy."</p> +<p>"What do you mean, Private Haynes, by appearing on ceremonial +parade with a pair of bandy legs?"</p> +<p>"It wasn't my fault, Sir. 'Strewth, it wasn't. They got wet, +Sir, an' I went an' dried 'em at the cook'ouse fire, Sir, an' they +got warped, Sir."</p> +<p>"Well," said the Major, "don't bring 'em on parade again. Tell +your Q.M.S. I say you're to have a new pair."</p> +<p>"Very good, Sir."</p> +<p>The Major passed on to me, and surveyed my left arm more in +anger than in sorrow.</p> +<p>"Why has this man got his blue band fastened on with pins?" he +demanded. "Why isn't it sewn on? Why hasn't he fastened it on with +elastic? D'you hear me? Are you deaf? Why isn't it sewn on? Why +don't you speak?"</p> +<p>"Please, Sir...."</p> +<p>"Don't answer me back! Sergeant, take this man's name. He is +insolent. Take his name for insolence. You are insolent, Sir. +You're a disgrace to the Army. You're a ..."</p> +<p>"If you've quite finished with my squad, Major," put in Sister +in a quiet voice from the door, "the car is here, and we're late +already. I shall have to push a bit."</p> +<p>I promptly made for the seat beside the driver, explaining that +I wanted to see the speedometer burst. Sister does a good many +things, and does most of them well; but her particular +accomplishment is her motor-driving. After my experiences in +different cars at the Front—especially those driven by +Frenchmen—I thought at first that motoring had no new thrills +to offer me; but when Sister takes corners I still clutch at +anything handy.</p> +<p>Surrey began to stream past us. The landscape was extremely +beautiful, but only the more distant parts of it were visible +except as a mere blur. After five or six miles we turned into a +long straight stretch of road.</p> +<p>"The Hepworths live somewhere along this," said Sister. "There's +a lovely sunken garden just in front of the house which I want you +to notice. Hallo! here we are; I thought it was further on."</p> +<p>The car whizzed round and through a drive gateway half hidden in +trees. When I opened my eyes again I looked for the sunken garden; +but except for a few very prim-looking flower-beds the grounds in +front of the house consisted entirely of a lawn, round which the +drive took a broad circular sweep.</p> +<p>"It must be the wrong house," said Sister, and without pausing +an instant in our centrifugal career we rushed round the complete +circle and disappeared through the gate as suddenly as we had come. +As we passed the house I had a fleeting glimpse of an old, +hard-featured and furious female face glaring at us from one of the +windows.</p> +<p>On the road we stopped the car so as to regain some measure of +gravity before presenting ourselves at our real +destination—next house—but were still rather hysterical +when we arrived.</p> +<p>"You'll hear more of this," said our hostess, when we had +reported our raid. "Old Miss Mendip lives there—a regular +tartar; all kinds of views; writes to the papers."</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>In a subsequent issue of the local weekly we found the +following:—</p> +<blockquote><i>To the Editor of "The Inshot Times, Great and Little +Budford Chronicle and Home Counties Advertiser</i>."</blockquote> +<p>SIR,—Even in <i>war-time</i>, when one cannot call our +souls our own, we may surely expect the privacy of individuals and +the rights of property to receive <i>some</i> respect. An +Englishman's home is still his castle, though the debased morals +and decayed manners of modern <i>Society</i> (?) seem to blind its +members to the fact.</p> +<p>I wish to give publicity in your pages to a disgraceful +<i>outrage</i> of which I have been made the victim. On Tuesday +last I was rudely awakened from my afternoon rest by the sound of a +large motor-car. As I did not expect visitors I proceeded to the +window in order to discover to what the <i>intrusion</i> might be +due. What was my <i>astonishment</i> to discover that the vehicle +contained a party of four <i>perfect strangers</i>. Three of them, +I regret to state, were wounded officers; they were being driven by +one of the modern games-playing cigarette-smoking <span class= +"pagenum"><a name="page237" id="page237"></a>[pg 237]</span> young +women to whom the old-fashioned word "<i>lady</i>" seems so +<i>singularly</i> inapplicable. Their sole object in entering +appeared to be the perpetration of a senseless practical +<i>joke</i>, for after <i>careering</i> round my garden at a pace +which I can only describe as <i>unwomanly</i>, they went off by the +way they had come.</p> +<p>My gardener, who witnessed the incident, tells me that on +reaching the road they stopped the vehicle and celebrated the +success of their inane efforts by <i>shrieking</i> with that +unrestrained mirth which jars so painfully on refined ears.</p> +<p>Can <i>nothing</i> be done?</p> +<p>I am, Sir, Yours faithfully,</p> +<p>LYDIA MENDIP.</p> +<p><i>Manor Lodge, Little Budford</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/237.png"><img width="100%" src="images/237.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<i>Orderly Officer</i>. "HOW MANY HORSES ARE HERE, PICKET?"<br /> +<i>Picket (a little fed-up)</i>. "ER—HORSE LINE, 'SHUN! +FROM THE RIGHT—NUMBER!!" +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>The Food Shortage in Germany.</h3> +<blockquote>"While the horse doeuvres were being served, the +Kaiser, etc."</blockquote> +<p>At the Imperial table, it will be observed, they put the horse +before the <i>carte</i>.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"He held several Court appointments, including those of +Keeper of the Privy PuPrse to the Prince"—<i>The +Star</i>.</blockquote> +<p>It is not every Keeper of the Privy Purse who thus manages to +double the initial capital.</p> +<hr /> +<h2>THE P.-P.-D.</h2> +<p>Henry is in the War Office, where he takes a hand in the +Direction of Military Aeronautics. To meet him you might almost +think that Military Aeronautics was a one-man show. He has, at any +rate in the eyes of the layman, an encyclopædic knowledge of +aircraft and all appertaining thereto. When he is out for a walk on +Sunday with his wife and daughter, and a British aeroplane passes +over them with the usual fascinating roar, Henry is very superior. +Mummy (who is of coarse clay) and Betty (aged 1½, and +coarser still) are frankly excited every time.</p> +<p>"Look at the pretty airship!" says Mummy.</p> +<p>"Oo-ah!" says Betty.</p> +<p>"B.E.4X.," snaps Henry, without looking at it.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Or rather this is what Henry used to do; but now things are +different. It was Betty who, so to speak, brought him down to earth +again. He had great ambitions for Betty, whom he fondly believed to +be possessed of intelligence above the lot of woman, and he always +laboured prodigiously to advance her education. Betty took to it +philosophically, however, and refused to be hurried; and Henry +almost despaired of getting her beyond two syllables. The "Common +Objects of the Farmyard" were rapidly assimilated, and all the +world of mechanical traction was comprehended in the generic +"puff-puff." But Henry wouldn't be satisfied with this very +creditable repertoire. "Out of respect for her father, if for no +other reason," he would insist, "she <i>must</i> learn to say +'aeroplane.'"</p> +<p>"How ridiculous!" said Mummy, who always called them "airships," +to annoy Henry; "and anyhow it's no use going on at her; she never +will say things to order. If you'll only leave her alone for a bit +she'll probably say it, and then your sordid ambition will be +gratified."</p> +<p>But Henry cared for none of these things, and when Sunday came, +and with it Sunday's promenade and Sunday's aeroplane, he went at +it as hard as ever.</p> +<p>"Say 'air-ye-play,'" he commanded, as the pram was brought to a +standstill and the droning monster passed overhead.</p> +<p>Betty gazed raptly at the entrancing thing. Then suddenly she +raised a fat hand and pointed. "Oo-ah!" she said, +"puff-puff-dicky!"</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>And nowadays Henry's omniscience is decently obscured under a +capacious <span class="pagenum"><a name="page238" id= +"page238"></a>[pg 238]</span> bushel. If you meet an aeroplane when +you are walking with him and ask humbly for his verdict thereon, in +the expectation of an explosion of clipped technical jargon, he +will stop and study its outline with great attention, and will +eventually inform you, to your respectful mystification, that it is +a "P.-P.-D." Thereafter he will chuckle most unofficially.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/238.png"><img width="100%" src="images/238.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<i>Lady</i>. "WELL, MRS. GUBBINS, WHAT IS THE WEATHER GOING TO +BE TO-DAY?"<br /> +<i>Charwoman</i>. "OH, I DON'T KNOW, MUM. I'M NOT MUCH OF A +WEATHERCOCK." +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>More Sex Problems.</h3> +<blockquote>"Wanted, a Blue Bull (Nilgai or Rojh). Apply, stating +sex, age, height and price."—<i>Pioneer</i>.</blockquote> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>From a German <i>communiqué</i>:—</p> +<blockquote>"On the eastern bank of the Mouse desperate fishing +continues."—<i>Edinburgh Evening Paper</i>.</blockquote> +<p>And the Bosch has caught more than he bargained for.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>From the report of the meeting, in London, of the Executive +Committee of the National Farmers' Union:—</p> +<blockquote>"Farmers had hundreds of acres of grass which they were +willing to turn into meat, but were prevented from doing +so."</blockquote> +<p>Mr. Punch thinks that the difficulty might be overcome if the +meat were turned into the grass.</p> +<hr /> +<h2>THE H.Q. TOUCH.</h2> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Command Headquarters (who, of course,</p> +<p>Ride us as Cockneys ride a horse—</p> +<p>I mean, without considering</p> +<p>The animal; the ride's the thing)</p> +<p>On Army Form—I cannot think</p> +<p>Precisely which; the form was pink—</p> +<p>Instructed Captain So-and-so,</p> +<p>With certain other ranks, to go</p> +<p>And at a given hour report,</p> +<p>With rifles, such-and-such a sort,</p> +<p>So many rounds of S.A.A.</p> +<p>Per man, and so much oats and hay</p> +<p>Per horse (as specified and charged</p> +<p>On War Establishments, enlarged,</p> +<p>Revised and issued as amended);</p> +<p>And here the said instruction ended,</p> +<p>"Signed, Eustace Blank, G.S.O.3,</p> +<p>For D.A.Q.A.M.A.G."</p> +<p class="i2">The reason why the form was thus</p> +<p>Truncated was—alas for us!—</p> +<p>That Major Blank, a hasty man,</p> +<p>Neglected his accustomed plan</p> +<p>And failed, in short, to P.T.O.,</p> +<p>So never told us where to go.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">We drafted a polite reply:—</p> +<p>"Your such a number, Fourth July;</p> +<p>Instructions touching destination</p> +<p>Requested, please, for information."</p> +<p>And Captain So-and-So and men</p> +<p>Donned and inspected kits.</p> +<p class="i10">And then</p> +<p>Command Headquarters went and wired:</p> +<p>"The draft in question not required.</p> +<p>When any draft is <i>wanted</i> you</p> +<p>Will hear <i>precisely</i> what to do;</p> +<p>No error ever passes through</p> +<p>This office. You will therefore not</p> +<p>In future tell US what is what;</p> +<p>WE know; and WE are on the spot.</p> +<p>The G.O.C.-in-C. is much</p> +<p>Displeased."</p> +<p class="i10">The old Headquarters' touch.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>Our Spoilt Pets.</h3> +<blockquote>"Cottage, suitable for pigs and +poultry."—<i>Birmingham Daily Mail</i>.</blockquote> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"SUSAN'S PUDDING.—This is a super-excellent +pudding, and, as times go, the cost of the material used is not +excessive. Required: One cup each of flour, breadcrumbs, raisins +(stoned and chopped), currants (washed and dried), also a teacupful +of baking powder.... If served only on occasion—a special +occasion—the most scrupulously careful housewife should not +be troubled by uneasy sensations."—<i>Bristol Times and +Mirror</i>.</blockquote> +<p>We should—after a teacupful of baking powder.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page239" id="page239"></a>[pg +239]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/239.png"><img width="100%" src="images/239.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<h3>THE BELGIAN "MENACE."</h3> +<p>KAISER. "IF I GRANT YOU MY GRACIOUS PARDON, WILL YOU PROMISE NOT +TO TERRORISE ME AGAIN?"</p> +<p>["Belgium would be required to give a guarantee that any such +menace as that which threatened Germany in 1914 would in future be +excluded."—<i>German Foreign Secretary to Papal Nuncio at +Munich</i>.]</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page240" id="page240"></a>[pg +240]</span> +<h2>RAID JOTTINGS.</h2> +<p>A good deal of dissatisfaction is expressed with the state of +the cellars to which people have been invited during the raids. +"Surely," writes one of our correspondents, "it is a scandal that, +at this time in the world's history, some cellars should be totally +destitute of wine. That there should be no coal in the coal-cellars +is understandable enough; but to ask the timid public into empty +wine cellars is a travesty of hospitality."</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Every effort will be made when the House reassembles to provide +separate cellars for the SPEAKER and Mr. PEMBERTON BILLING.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. JIMMY WILDE, the Welsh boxer, it has been widely announced, +had a marvellous escape from an air-bomb. The little champion (for +once not in a position to hit back) was standing in the door of his +hotel when the projectile dropped, and blew him along the passage, +but inflicted no injuries. The world will therefore hear from Mr. +WILDE again, whose future antagonists should view with a shudder +this inability of the Gothas to knock him out.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. WILDE is, however, not alone in his good fortune. From all +the bombarded parts, and from some others, come news of remarkable +pieces of good luck, due almost or wholly to the fact that the +bombs fell on spots where our correspondents were not standing, +although they might easily have been there had they not been +elsewhere. The similarity of their experience is indeed most +striking.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. HAROLD BEGBIE, for example, who disapproves of soldiers +laughing, happened to be in the country on the night of the 24th. +Had he been in town he might, in a melancholy reverie caused by the +incorrigible light-heartedness of his fellow-countrymen, have +wandered bang into the danger zone. No one can be too thankful that +he did not.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Sir HENRY WOOD'S project to play TCHAIKOVSKY'S "1812" in such +perfect time that the audience will have the pleasure of hearing +our anti-aircraft men supply the big-gun effects, although +laudable, is, it is feared, doomed to failure.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>There was no air raid over London on Wednesday the 26th. The +sudden noise (which happily produced no panic) in His Majesty's +Theatre was merely Miss LILY BRAYTON dropping the clothes she was +not wearing.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A CONSTANT RAIDER writes:—"It is understood that the +German airmen's motto—borrowed, without acknowledgment, from +the dental profession—is 'We spare no panes.'"</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>In view of recent events Miss TENNYSON JESSE is considering +whether her new novel, <i>Secret Bread</i>, should be renamed +<i>Air-raided Bread</i>.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. CHARLES COCHRAN is very anxious that it should be known that +not a single bomb hit him. Had any of them done so, the +consequences might have been very serious. This happy immunity +being his, he wishes it also to be known that his various and +meritorious theatres are doing even more astonishing business than +before.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. COCHRAN, however, together with other theatrical managers, +has a dangerous rival. The raids are threatening to ruin the +matinées now so prevalent by setting up counter attractions. +The thousands of people (not only errand-boys) who now stand all +day to watch the workmen mend a hole in the roadway caused by a +bomb would otherwise, but for this engrossing and never tedious +spectacle, be in this theatre or that.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. HALL CAINE telegraphs from the Isle of Man that no bombs +having fallen there he remains intact.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href= +"images/240.png"><img width="100%" src="images/240.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p>"GOOD NEWS, LADS; WE'VE GOT A CHANGE FER TEA TO-NIGHT." "WHAT IS +IT?" "ROUND BISCUITS INSTEAD O' SQUARE ONES."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>The Ideal Lodger.</h3> +<blockquote>"Wanted, two Single Rooms, in private or boarding +house; special arrangements for constant +absence."—<i>Australian Paper</i>.</blockquote> +<hr /> +<h2>LETTERS OF A GENERAL TO HIS SON</h2> +<h4>(<i>On obtaining a Junior Staff appointment</i>).</h4> +<p>MY DEAR BOY,—We both congratulate you heartily on your +appointment. Acting on your suggestion, I have hinted to your +mother that her anxieties for your safety may be considerably +lessened in consequence. You will, of course, continue to address +letters likely to cause her any apprehension to my club. On +entering this new phase of your career you will not take it amiss +if I offer you a few words of practical advice:—</p> +<p>1. Do not neglect your advantages. Always visit the line with a +double mission, one for the right of the line and one for the +left—and see which they are shelling.</p> +<p>2. If they are strafing all along the line, inspect +Transport.</p> +<p>3. Cultivate the detached manner when dealing with all but the +very senior. This will give you what is called distinction. Charm +will come later.</p> +<p>4. What you don't know, guess. If wrong, guess again.</p> +<p>5. Always put off on to others what you cannot do yourself.</p> +<p>6. What little you do, do well—and see that it gets talked +about. Medals are going round, and you may as well have them as +anybody else.</p> +<p>7. Belong to a good Mess and invite people who are inclined to +criticise.</p> +<p>8. When rung up on a subject of which you know nothing, learn to +conduct the conversation so that you abstract the necessary +enlightenment from the questioner himself (while appearing to be +perfectly conversant with what he is talking about), and, if +possible, get him to suggest the answer to his own conundrum. In +other words, bluff as in poker (which I trust you don't play).</p> +<p>These are just a few little hints that have occurred to me. Your +own good sense will guide you as to the rest. Everybody at home is +taking a tremendous interest in the War, I'm glad to say. Hardly a +day passes but I am asked at least a dozen times when it is going +to be over.</p> +<p>Your affectionate Father, etc., etc.</p> +<hr /> +<p>From an order recently issued at the Front:</p> +<blockquote>"Great care must always be exercised in tethering +horses to trees, as they are apt to bark, and thereby destroy the +trees."</blockquote> +<p>Wow, wow!</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page241" id="page241"></a>[pg +241]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/241.png"><img width="100%" src="images/241.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<h3>THE PERFECT LIFE.</h3> +<p>"YES, GAFFER. ME AN' MY OLE WOMAN 'ERE 'AVE LIVED TOGETHER THESE +FORTY YEAR, AN' NEVER 'AD A QUARREL—FORTY YEAR, MIND YER, AN' +NEVER BIN BEFORE THE MAGISTRATE!"</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>SIGNS OF INNS.</h2> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The Herald lives in cloister grey;</p> +<p class="i2">He lives by clerkly rules;</p> +<p>He dreams in coats and colours gay,</p> +<p class="i2">In <i>argent</i>, <i>or</i> and <i>gules</i>;</p> +<p>He blazons knightly shield and banner</p> +<p class="i2">In dim monastic hall,</p> +<p>And in a grave and reverend manner</p> +<p class="i2">He earns his bread withal.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Were I a herald fair and fit</p> +<p class="i2">So featly for to limn</p> +<p>As though I'd learnt the lore of it</p> +<p class="i2">Among the seraphim,</p> +<p>I'd leave the schools to clerkly people</p> +<p class="i2">And walk, as dawn begins,</p> +<p>From steeple unto distant steeple,</p> +<p class="i2">And paint the signs of inns.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><i>The Dragon</i>, as I'd see him, is</p> +<p class="i2">A loving beast and long,</p> +<p>And oh, the <i>Goat and Compasses</i>,</p> +<p class="i2">'Twould fill my soul with song;</p> +<p><i>The Bell</i>, <i>The Bull</i>, <i>The Rose and +Rummer</i>,</p> +<p class="i2">Such themes should like me still</p> +<p>At Yule, or when the heart of Summer</p> +<p class="i2">Lies blue on vale and hill.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Let others' blazonry find place</p> +<p class="i2">Supported, scrolled with gold,</p> +<p>A glowing dignity and grace</p> +<p class="i2">On honoured walls and old;</p> +<p>And let it likewise be attended</p> +<p class="i2">In stately circumstance</p> +<p>With mottos writ o' Latin splendid</p> +<p class="i2">Or courtly words of France;</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But I would paint <i>The Golden Tun</i></p> +<p class="i2">And others to my mind,</p> +<p>And mellow them in rain and sun,</p> +<p class="i2">And hang them on the wind;</p> +<p>And I would say, "My handcraft creaking</p> +<p class="i2">On this autumnal gale</p> +<p>Unto all wayfarers is speaking</p> +<p class="i2">In praise of rest and ale."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Then bless the man who puts a sign</p> +<p class="i2">Above his wide door's beam,</p> +<p>And bless the hop-root, fruit and vine,</p> +<p class="i2">For still I dream my dream,</p> +<p>Where, as the flushing East turns pinker</p> +<p class="i2">And tardy day begins,</p> +<p>I take the road like any tinker</p> +<p class="i2">And paint the signs of inns.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>"INSTANT DEMAND FOR WARNINGS.</h3> +<h4>"MAYORS OF LONDON MOVING."</h4> +<blockquote><i>Evening News</i>.</blockquote> +<p>They ought to set a better example.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"Certain people seem to have misread the statement last +week that flour would be reduced 1<i>s.</i> 1½<i>d.</i> that +flour would be reduced to 1<i>s.</i> 1½<i>d.</i> but that +that that flour would be reduced to 1<i>s.</i> 11½<i>d.</i> +but that amount or somewhere about it would be taken off the former +price."—<i>Rossendale Free Press</i>.</blockquote> +<p>There ought to be no misunderstanding after this.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"At such close quarters were attackers and attacked +that to have used grenades would manifestly have been equally +dangerous to both. So, after a brief pause to collect the means, +our men began to pelt the Huns with bottles filled with water. +Apparently the enemy thought this was some new form of +'frightfulness,' for they speedily threw down their arms and tossed +up their hands."—<i>Daily Telegraph</i>.</blockquote> +<p>Our contemporary, while rightly applauding the resourcefulness +of our bombers, might have given the Germans credit for their +remarkable feat of acrobacy.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page242" id="page242"></a>[pg +242]</span> +<h2>FOR SERVICES RENDERED.</h2> +<p>If ever, in a railing mood, I have unjustly aspersed the Army; +if, by reason of deferred pay, over-diluted stew, or leave +adjourned, I have accused the Powers That Be of a step-motherly +indifference to my welfare, I hereby withdraw unreservedly all such +aspersions and accusations. For since my discharge tokens of kindly +interest and affection have reached me in such rapid succession +that I am kept wondering what the next will be. With a quarter of a +million men in his care (as I suppose, since my number was 256801), +my fatherly Record Officer has yet time for frequent correspondence +with "crocks" like me. He registers all his letters; he makes his +instructions so plain that a very suckling might understand them; +he takes every precaution lest, in the press of business, I should +be overlooked.</p> +<p>I had been at home about a week when his first communication +arrived—an unexpected windfall purporting to represent the +balance of my pay and allowances. The method of computation would +probably have transcended my intelligence if it had been indicated; +but there was no attempt at explanation, nor did I desire it. I +stamped and signed the receipt form according to unmistakable +directions, and returned it to Headquarters. A few days later +certain arrears of Separation Allowance came to hand—arrears +whose existence our own unaided sagacity would never have revealed. +Guided by an illustrative diagram we signed the receipt in due form +and returned it. Before we had ceased congratulating ourselves on +these accessions, yet another instalment of pay was delivered, with +form of receipt as in the previous case. We were almost convinced +that the country cottage and the leisured ease of our dreams were +within our grasp, but the well ran dry at that point. Some of my +balance may yet lurk in the coffers of the Paymaster, but I dare +not throw off the yoke of my bondage on the strength of a bare +possibility.</p> +<p>After a brief interval, Records returned to the charge with a +bulky envelope containing matter of great interest. One of the +enclosures certified that, for the term of three months, I was +transferred to Class W.P., Army Reserve. I made various conjectures +as to the meaning of "W," and so did Cinderella. On the whole we +favoured "Warrior," but perhaps we were wrong. At all events, the +interpretation of "P" was clearly set forth by another document, +which explained that I was entitled to a pension of eight shillings +and threepence per week so long as I remained among the happy +W.P.'s. There was also an identity certificate, whereon some +clergyman, magistrate or policeman must attest that I was alive +when I brought it to him, and a form of receipt for all the papers +in the batch. I signed it according to instructions and returned it +to Headquarters.</p> +<p>The identity certificate went back to a specified address, where +it set in motion machinery by which my pension paper was presently +delivered to me—accompanied by a form of receipt. This paper +was covered with mystic circles, whose meaning I discovered when I +presented myself at the post-office. They were apparently intended +to appease the presiding divinity by gratifying her passion for +stamping things. She hit my paper accurately in four of its rings, +and then, with a pleased smile, handed me thirty-three +shillings.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Records had stirred up a benevolent neighbour to call +upon me. He belonged to an organisation for assisting discharged +soldiers; he was Opportunity in person for anyone who might need +him; but, as Cinderella explained, I was at that moment engaged +upon work of national importance and could not claim his help. +Nevertheless she thanked the gentleman and placed the incident to +the credit of the Powers That Be.</p> +<p>No acknowledgment was required for this visit; but a week later +my war services' badge was delivered per registered post, and I +confessed the fact both on the usual green slip and on the form of +receipt which was enclosed. Henceforth I was able to appear in +public with an outward and visible sign of the ferocity which +underlies my demeanour, and my most lurid tales had a substantial +witness.</p> +<p>Two months went by, during which the O. i/c Records made no +further additions to our postbag. There are mornings when your +friends appear to have forgotten you, when a Levitical postman +bangs your neighbour's gate mockingly and forthwith crosses the +street. On such mornings our thoughts may have turned to Records +with a certain yearning; but mainly we felt his care like the air +about us, and had no need that it should materialise in idle +correspondence.</p> +<p>At last my term of probation came to an end. In response to a +note from Records (with form for receipt) I returned my Transfer +Certificate and received in its place my final Discharge +Papers—with a form for receipt. At the same time I heard that +the Commissioners were in earnest consultation as to the +continuance of my pension.</p> +<p>Thus goodness and loving-kindness have followed me ever since I +handed in the uniform. To this day I am the subject of anxious +consideration. Not a week ago the early post brought me my +character. Imagine the incessant parental watchfulness of an +authority which can testify concerning one two hundred and fifty +thousandth of its charge that he is "a good soldier, willing and +industrious, honest, sober, trustworthy and well-conducted." Think +of the kindly interest which prompted the O. i/c Records to insert +a form of receipt—"to guard against impersonation." My +character might have got into base hands; some unworthy person +might have gone about professing to possess that willingness, that +industry, that sobriety, that trustworthiness and that elegance of +conduct which are mine alone; but the form of receipt would baffle +him. I cannot explain how, but Records knows.</p> +<p>What is yet in store for me the future bides; but this I know: +while England endures and Records continues to record, I shall not +walk alone.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:70%;"><a href= +"images/242.png"><img width="100%" src="images/242.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Lady farm-help, being shown her new duties, notices fowls +having dust-bath.</i> "DEAR ME! I EXPECT THEY'LL WANT WASHING EVERY +NIGHT BEFORE I PUT THEM TO ROOST. I'D NO IDEA FOWLS WERE SUCH DIRTY +THINGS."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page243" id="page243"></a>[pg +243]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/243.png"><img width="100%" src="images/243.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Aunty (wishing to be sympathetic)</i>. "I'M GLAD TO HEAR +YOU'VE GOT YOUR SEA-LEGS, JACK, AND I HOPE YOUR FRIEND IS GETTING +ON EQUALLY WELL AND HAS GOT HIS TRENCH-FEET."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>PURE ENGLISH.</h2> +<blockquote class="note">[A writer in <i>The Daily Express</i> has +been discussing the questions where and by whom the purest English +is spoken and written, and pronounces strongly in favour of East +Anglia, FITZGERALD, BORROW and Mr. CONRAD.]</blockquote> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Once more 'tis discussed</p> +<p class="i4">What guides we should trust</p> +<p>If we wish to write prose to perfection;</p> +<p class="i4">Is it BORROW or "FITZ,"</p> +<p class="i4"><i>The Times</i> or <i>Tit Bits</i>?</p> +<p>And how should we make our selection?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Once on NEWMAN and FROUDE</p> +<p class="i4">We were bidden to brood</p> +<p>If we aimed at distinction and purity;</p> +<p class="i4">And, when we escaped</p> +<p class="i4">From their influence, aped</p> +<p>GEORGE MEREDITH'S vivid obscurity.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">The remarkable style</p> +<p class="i4">Of old THOMAS CARLYLE</p> +<p>Found many a lover and hater;</p> +<p class="i4">And precious young men</p> +<p class="i4">Who made play with the pen</p> +<p>Were devoted disciples of PATER.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">But these idols we've burned</p> +<p class="i4">And have latterly learned</p> +<p>That "distinction"'s an utter delusion;</p> +<p class="i4">For if you would aim</p> +<p class="i4">At a popular fame</p> +<p>You must cultivate "vim" or effusion.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">JOSEPH CONRAD (a Pole)</p> +<p class="i4">Some place on the whole</p> +<p>At the top of the tree for his diction;</p> +<p class="i4">But his style, I opine,</p> +<p class="i4">Is a little too fine</p> +<p>For the average reader of fiction.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">If you can't be a WELLS,</p> +<p class="i4">Or aspire to Miss DELL'S</p> +<p>Impassioned and fervid variety,</p> +<p class="i4">You still may attain</p> +<p class="i4">To CHARLES GARVICE'S strain</p> +<p>And leaven Romance with propriety.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">For democracy shies</p> +<p class="i4">At the artist who tries</p> +<p>To express himself subtly or darkly;</p> +<p class="i4">And the man in the street</p> +<p class="i4">In a fair plébiscite</p> +<p>Would probably crown Mrs. BARCLAY.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<p>Extract from a sermon:—</p> +<blockquote>"We meet here to-day under circumstances which are not +ordinary ... We seem to hear 'the sound of a gong in the tops of +the mulberry trees.'"—<i>The Record</i>.</blockquote> +<p>This must be some air-raid warning by the rural police.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"On the roads near by 'a Verdun' signposts have been +replaced by new ones reading 'A Glorieux Verdun.' The name of +France herself might well be altered to 'Glorieux +France.'"—<i>Canadian Paper</i>.</blockquote> +<p><i>Vive le France!</i></p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>From a report of the British Cotton-growing +Association:—</p> +<blockquote>"The negotiations with the Government for the +development of the irritation scheme for the Gezira plain are still +under consideration."—<i>The Field</i>.</blockquote> +<p>We trust we shall hear no more of this vexatious project.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A lodging-house keeper at Whitby</p> +<p>Saw a couple of Zeppelins flit by;</p> +<p class="i2">Though she felt a sharp sting,</p> +<p class="i2">It's a curious thing</p> +<p>That she never knew which she was hit by.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"War conditions have given occasion in Germany for the +study of an oedema disease (swelling) unknown in peace times. Among +the civil population it has been generally located in the feet and +legs, and in more than one-half of the cases studied some degree of +facial swelling was present."—<i>Daily +Paper</i>.</blockquote> +<p>This last symptom is especially noticeable in the case of the +KAISER.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"Prior to the meeting [of the Irish Convention] in Cork +the members of the secretariat attended in Sir Horace Plunkett's +private room, and presented him with a solid ivory chairman's +mantle."—<i>Dublin Evening Mail</i>.</blockquote> +<p>But we are glad to state that the proceedings were quite +orderly, and that the Chairman did not need this protective +garment.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page244" id="page244"></a>[pg +244]</span> +<h2>GOING BACK.</h2> +<p>"In these days," I began, but Francesca interrupted me.</p> +<p>"When anyone starts like that," she said, "I know he's going to +make the War an excuse for doing something rather more paltry than +usual."</p> +<p>"'Paltry' is not," I said, "a very nice word."</p> +<p>"I'll take the phrase back and substitute 'rather less noble and +generous.'"</p> +<p>"Yes, I like that better. I'll pass it in that form as your +comment on what you haven't yet allowed me to say."</p> +<p>"Quick," she said; "what was it? Don't leave me in +suspense."</p> +<p>"In these days," I said, "one mustn't spend too much on railway +companies."</p> +<p>"True," she said. "I'm with you there in these or any other +days."</p> +<p>"And therefore," I continued, "it will be quite enough if one of +us accompanies Frederick, our lively ten-year-old, to begin his +second term at school. There is no necessity whatever for both of +us to go with him."</p> +<p>"Hear, hear!" said Francesca; "your idea is better than I +thought. I will go with Frederick and you can stay at home and look +after the girls."</p> +<p>"No," I said firmly, "I will take Frederick, and you must remain +behind and keep an eye on Muriel, Nina and Alice."</p> +<p>"No," she said.</p> +<p>"Yes," I said; "my eye's not good enough for the job; it hasn't +been trained for it. I should be sure to mislay one of the girls, +and then you'd never forgive yourself for having put upon me a +burden greater than I could bear. Besides," I added, "goings back +to school are in the man's department, with football, cricket, +boxing and things of that kind."</p> +<p>"And what," she said scornfully, "are you graciously pleased to +leave in my department?"</p> +<p>"Oh, I thought you knew. I leave to you table-manners, tidiness +(that's a tough one), hand-washing (that's a tougher), reading +aloud from Kipling and tucking him up in bed."</p> +<p>"Quite a good list, if by no means a complete one; but in these +days one mustn't be too critical. Anyhow it proves that I must take +the boy back to school."</p> +<p>"It proves just the contrary."</p> +<p>"No," she said, "it proves what ought to be there by leaving it +out."</p> +<p>"That," I said, "is a record even for you, Francesca."</p> +<p>"Well, it's logical anyway. How, for instance, could you talk to +the Matron? You'd be utterly lost before you'd been at it for half +a minute."</p> +<p>"Don't you worry about that," I said. "I have accomplishments of +which you don't seem to be aware, and one of them is talking to +Matrons at preparatory schools."</p> +<p>"Anyhow, you're not going to have a chance of showing it off +this time, <i>because I am going to take the boy back to +school</i>. That's final."</p> +<p>It was, and in due time Francesca took the boy back. Her account +of the farewell moments was not without a certain amount of pathos, +several other mothers and their boys being involved in the +valedictory scene. Four or five days afterwards, however, we +received the following letter, which put to flight any idea that +Frederick might be pining:—</p> +<p>"I am very happy this term, and I am getting on fairly well in +my work. I like football much better than cricket. I have three or +four times just not got a goal, once it was when I kicked into goal +the goalkeeper (3 st. 4 lb.!) rushed out and kicked it away, and +once when we were playing Blues and Reds, and I was on the Blue +side, and I managed by good luck to get through a crowd of shouting +Reds and followed it up amidst shouts from the Blues and shot it to +the Red goal; but the goalkeeper (a different one) came out and hit +it away, at which I twisted my knee and collapsed (not with pain, +because it wasn't anything, but with anger and <i>desparation!</i>) +Am I to learn boxing this term? I am sorry to hear the hens are not +behaving well."</p> +<p>I should like to have seen the bold goalkeeper of 3 st. 4 lb. It +is a proud weight.</p> +<p>R.C.L.</p> +<hr /> +<h2>YESTERDAY IN OXFORD STREET.</h2> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Yesterday in Oxford Street, oh, what d'you think, my dears?</p> +<p>I had the most exciting time I've had for years and years;</p> +<p>The buildings looked so straight and tall, the sky was blue +between,</p> +<p>And, riding on a motor-bus, I saw the fairy queen!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Sitting there upon the rail and bobbing up and down,</p> +<p>The sun was shining on her wings and on her golden crown;</p> +<p>And looking at the shops she was, the pretty silks and +lace—</p> +<p>She seemed to think that Oxford Street was quite a lovely +place.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And once she turned and looked at me and waved her little +hand,</p> +<p>But I could only glare and stare, oh, would she understand?</p> +<p>I simply couldn't speak at all, I simply couldn't stir,</p> +<p>And all the rest of Oxford Street was just a shining blur.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Then suddenly she shook her wings—a bird had fluttered +by—</p> +<p>And down into the street she looked and up into the sky,</p> +<p>And perching on the railing on a tiny fairy toe</p> +<p>She flashed away so quickly that I hardly saw her go.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I never saw her any more, although I looked all day;</p> +<p>Perhaps she only came to peep and never meant to stay;</p> +<p>But oh, my dears, just think of it, just think what luck for +me</p> +<p>That she should come to Oxford Street and I be there to see!</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>R.F.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>Light on the Situation.</h3> +<blockquote> +<p>"Dr. Michaelis is the trusted no-hold-out until their plans of +annexation have been carried out, and they always receive a +gracious telegram in reply. So he who cares to hear knows what the +hour is striking."—<i>Egyptian Mail</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr class="short" /> +<h3>Journalistic Humility.</h3> +<blockquote>"Two years ago The Daily Mail begged our sluggish +authorities to study the question of daylight air-raids as well as +night attacks. We pointed out their risk; we asked that the best +means of meeting them should be considered and the best method of +warning the public investigated. The result was that nothing was +done."—<i>Daily Mail</i>.</blockquote> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"Of old was it written that they who taketh up the +sword shall perish by the sword, and the written word +remaineth."—<i>The Daily Mirror</i>.</blockquote> +<p>But it hath been a little damaged in the interval.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"It may be estimated the Germans opposing our troops +represented an average concentration of more than four men to every +yard of front."—<i>Liverpool Echo</i>.</blockquote> +<p>Never could it have been done with four pre-war Germans!</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<blockquote>"Up to July 26 1,559 lists had been issued officially +of German casualties. Each list contained 19,802 pages of three +columns per page, and each column contained between 80 and 90 names +of dead, wounded, and missing officers and men—a total of +nearly 6,000,000."—<i>Daily Sketch</i>.</blockquote> +<p>We trust our spirited contemporary has not joined the +Hide-the-Truth Press, for we make the sum approximately +7,872,186,090.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page245" id="page245"></a>[pg +245]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/245.png"><img width="100%" src="images/245.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Old Gentleman (to father of conscientious objector).</i> "BUT +SUPPOSING A GERMAN WAS GOING FOR YOUR SON WITH A +BAYONET—WOULDN'T HE GO FOR THE GERMAN?"</p> +<p><i>Father of C.O.</i> "AY! I DOUBT HE'D SAY SUMMAT. 'E'S GOT A +SHARP TONGUE WHEN 'E'S VEXED."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> +<h4>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks</i>.)</h4> +<p>I think I prefer Mr. WELLS'S recent essay in the Newest Theology +to this too concrete illustration of <i>The Soul of a Bishop</i> +(CASSELL). It's not that I object to the irreverence of stripping a +poor tired bishop of cassock and gaiters, pursuing him to a +sleepless bed and cinematographing all his physical twistings and +turnings, his moral misgivings, his torturing doubts. I owe too +much to Mr. WELLS' irreverences to mind that sort of thing; and I +must say that, for a man who can't have had very much to do with +the episcopacy in his busy life, he does manage to give a +confoundedly plausible atmosphere to the whole setting. There are +two letters from an older bishop to <i>Dr. Scrope</i>, the one, +yieldingly tolerant, to dissuade him from resignation, the other, +written after the accomplished fact, with touches of exquisitely +restrained yet palpable malice, which strike me as masterly +projections. Mr. WELLS also contrives a wonderful impressiveness in +certain passages of the bishop's three visions. But I can't, even +after careful re-reading, see the point of making the bishop's +enlightenment depend upon a mysterious drug. This has an effect of +impishness. There is nothing in <i>Dr. Scrope's</i> development +that might not have taken place without this fantastic assistance +... I suppose the general suggestion of this rather wayward and +hasty but conspicuously sincere book is, that if only an occasional +bishop would secede it would make it easier for the plain man to +listen to the rest. And there may be something in this.</p> +<p>To those who are in love with Mr. W.J. LOCKE'S incurable +romanticism or who have a taste for heroines that "stiffen in a +sudden stroke of passion looking for the instant electrically +beautiful," let me commend <i>The Red Planet</i> (LANE). As a +matter of fact <i>Betty</i>, the heroine, is quite a dear, and the +narrator, <i>Major Meredyth</i>, a maimed hero of the Boer War, who +looks at this one from the tragic angle of an invalid chair, is, +apart from a habit of petulant and not very profound grousing at +Governments in <i>The Daily Rail</i> manner, a sport who thoroughly +deserves the reward of poor widowed <i>Betty's</i> hand on the last +page but one. Perhaps he does not show a very ready understanding +of the phenomenon of physical cowardice in the case of a +brother-officer, though later he makes amends. But I take it that +it was Mr. LOCKE'S idea to present a very ordinary decent sort with +the common man's prejudices and frank distrust of subtleties. A +sinister mystery of love, death and blackmail runs, a turbid +undercurrent, through the story. The publisher's pathetic apology +for the drab grey paper on which, in the interests of War Economy, +the book is printed, makes one wonder how the other publishers who +still issue books in black and white manage to live.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Of the literary reputations that the War has, so to speak, dug +in, I suppose none to be more firmly consolidated than that of Mr. +PATRICK MACGILL. The newest of his several battle-books is <i>The +Brown Brethren</i> (JENKINS), a title derived from the campaigning +colour that has amended a popular quotation till it should now read +"the thin brown line of heroes." I can hardly tell you anything +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page246" id="page246"></a>[pg +246]</span> about Mr. MACGILL'S new book that you have not probably +read or said for yourself of the previous volumes. For my own part, +if the War is to be written about at all (a question concerning +which I preserve an open mind), I say let it be, as here, the real +thing, and the hotter and stronger the better. There is rough +humour in these sketches of soldier types, and just enough story to +thread them together; but it is the fighting that counts. Certain +chapters, for example that about <i>Benner's</i> struggle with the +Hun sniper, seem to leave one bruised and breathless as from +personal conflict. Mr. MACGILL writes about war as he knows it, +horribly, in a way that carries conviction like a charge of +bayonets, and with an entire disregard of the sensibilities of the +stay-at-home reader. For all which reasons <i>The Brown +Brethren</i> and their French friends are assured of the success +that they certainly deserve. Here's wishing them the best of +it!</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>In <i>The Sentence of the Court</i> (WARD, LOCK) Mr. FRED M. +WHITE contrives effectively to entangle our interest in one of +those webs of facile intrigue from which the reader escapes only at +the last line of the last page, muttering at he lays the volume +down and observes with concern that it is 2.30 A.M., "What rot!" +The title of the story is misleading. There is no Court, and nobody +is sentenced, though the eminent specialist of Harley Street who +essays the <i>rôle</i> of villain richly deserves to be. +However, as he is left a bankrupt, discredited in his practice and +detached from the heroine whom he had sworn to appropriate, it +would perhaps be straining a point to cavil at his remaining at +large. The idea upon which the story is based, and which enables +the author to clothe his characters and their actions with +bewildering mystery, is essentially good and, I believe, new, +though far be it from me to do either Mr. WHITE or the reader the +disservice of saying what it is. Suffice that we are introduced to +some quite charming people, as well as two extremely unpleasant +ones, and if the web of mystery is held together in places by a +somewhat generous share of obtuseness on the part of the persons +concerned it is not for us to complain, since we become aware of +the defect only after the affair is over.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Apart from the greater complaint that I do not like her subject, +which probably is entirely my own fault, I have nothing but praise +for Mrs. STANLEY WRENCH'S latest volume, <i>Beat</i> (DUCKWORTH), +except as regards her amazing fondness for drooping the corners of +her characters' mouths, generally either "wistfully" or "sullenly." +It only made one annoyed when <i>Beatrix's</i> unpleasant sisters +developed the trick, but when poor little <i>Beat</i> herself was +affected that way, in spite of the magnificent courage with which +she faced the burden of deputy-motherhood, it made one miserable as +well. The task she had undertaken was a prodigious one, for the +sisters she had to rear were, you must understand, vexed with sex +instincts of the type of the modern novel, and so in a large +measure she failed, even though she sacrificed strength, happiness +and even her own love-story in the effort to keep them straight. +The tale is set out with every circumstance of sordid misery, in +which the spiritual beauty of the heroine is meant to shine, and +undeniably does shine with real strength and purity. The successive +deaths of the mother and step-mother, the shabby London lodgings, +the fall of <i>Veronica</i>, the selfishness of <i>Beat's</i> +boy-friend, and the loathsome trade of her lover—these, and +more horrors and lapses beside, are all taxed for the general +effect in so able and vivid a fashion that the authoress succeeds +to admiration in making her readers nearly as uncomfortable as her +characters, long before the climax is reached. The end comes rather +less wretchedly than could have been expected, but even so surely +this is genius partly run to seed. The greatest tragedies are not +written in these minor keys. <i>Beat</i>, woman and heroine, is so +admirable that one fain would know her apart from all this +unredeemed welter of sex and selfishness.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>I confess I should have thought that the fictional possibilities +of being as like as two peas to Royalty were fairly exhausted. But +apparently Mr. EDGAR JEPSON does not share this view; and it is +only fair to admit that in <i>The Professional Prince</i> +(HUTCHINSON) he has contrived to give a novel twist to the already +well laboured theme. <i>Prince Richard</i> (precise nationality +unstated) was so bored with the common round of his exalted duties +that, hearing of a convenient double, he engages him, at four +hundred a year and pickings, to represent him at dull functions, +and incidentally to pay the requisite attentions to the young +woman, reported by photograph as depressingly plain, whom political +considerations have marked as the <i>Prince's fiancée</i>. +When later one of the characters points out to His Highness that +this conduct showed some lapse from the finer ideals of taste, I am +bound to say that I could find no words of contradiction. However +the originality arrives when <i>John Stuart</i>, the deputy, +instead of falling in love with the bride-elect in Ruritanian +fashion, develops a marked liking for the prosaic side of his job, +and insists upon lecturing his supposed relations upon the +political crisis of the moment. Capital fun this. When the +<i>fiancée</i> in her turn proved wholly different from the +photograph I permitted myself to hope that we were in for a double +masquerade—but this was to expect too much. Still, Mr. JEPSON +has handled his wildly-preposterous plot with great verve; and even +if the central situation is one that has been often encountered +before, this only proves again that HOPE springs eternal.... But I +wish he had avoided the War.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href= +"images/246.png"><img width="100%" src="images/246.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Manager of Automatic Dreadnought Pianofortissimo Company +(enthusiastically to Literary Gentleman who has written a moving +appeal to the public in favour of the Company's goods).</i> "MY +DEAR SIR, THIS IS MAGNIFICENT. IT ALMOST MAKES ME DECIDE TO BUY ONE +OF THE THINGS FOR MYSELF."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>"Where my Caravan has Rested."</h3> +<blockquote>"Wanted, modern Detached Villa Residence, inside tram +lines."—<i>Northern Whig</i>.</blockquote> +<hr class="full" /> +<pre> + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 153, OCT. 3, 1917*** + +******* This file should be named 10711-h.txt or 10711-h.zip ******* + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/7/1/10711">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/7/1/10711</a> + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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