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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:20 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:20 -0700 |
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diff --git a/11225-h/11225-h.htm b/11225-h/11225-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d9a53c4 --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/11225-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2712 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> + + <title>Punch, January 22, 1919.</title> + + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + 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> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11225 ***</div> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 156.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>January 22, 1919.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page53" id="page53"></a>[pg 53]</span> +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + +<p>The huge waterspout observed off +Guernsey last week "travelling towards +France" is believed to have been +making for the Peace Conference.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Captain of a Wilson liner on +being torpedoed ate his pocket-book to +prevent his sailing instructions from +falling into the hands of the Germans. +The report that the ex-Kaiser has whiled +away the time at Amerongen by chewing +up three copies of the German White +Book and one of Prince LICHNOWSKY'S +Memoirs is probably a variant of this story.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"Our chief hope of control of influenza," writes Sir ARTHUR +NEWSHOLME of the Local Government Board, "lies in further +investigation." Persons who insist upon having influenza +between now and Easter will do so at their own risk.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Writing to a provincial paper a correspondent asks when Mr. +PHILIP SNOWDEN was born. Other people are content to ask "Why?"</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"We think it prudent to speak with moderation on all subjects," +says <i>The Morning Post</i>. There now!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>We mentioned last week the startling rumour that a Civil +Servant had been seen running, and a satisfactory explanation +has now been issued. It appears that the gentleman in +question was going off duty.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>According to the <i>Malin</i>, the Bavarian PREMIER told a newspaper +man that the Bavarian revolution cost exactly eighteen +shillings. This seems to lend colour to the +rumour that Dr. EISNER picked this revolution up second-hand in Russia.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"Springfield and Napsbury Lunatic +Asylums," says a news item, "are to +be known in future as mental hospitals." +Government institutions which have +hitherto borne that title will in the +future be known simply as "Departments."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A German sailor, who is described as +"twenty-seven, 6 ft. 9½ in.," has escaped +from Dorchester camp. A reward has +been offered for information leading to +the recapture of any part of him.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The servant question is admittedly +acute, but whether sufficiently so to +justify the attitude of a contemporary, +which deals with the subject under the +sinister title, "Maxims for Mistresses," +is open to doubt.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The case of the North Country workman who voluntarily abandoned his +unemployment grant in order to take a job is attributed to a morbid craze for +notoriety.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>As a result of the engineers' strike and the failure of the heating apparatus, +we understand that Government officials in Whitehall have spent several +sleepless days.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>We gather that the mine reported to have been washed up at Bognor turns +out to be an obsolete 1914 pork pie—but fortunately the pin had been +removed.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>The Daily Express</i> tells us that a crowd of new monkeys have arrived at +the Zoo. We are pleased to note this, because several of the monkeys there +were certainly the worse for wear.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A contemporary anticipates a boom +in very light motor cars at a hundred and +thirty pounds each. They are said to +be just the thing to carry in the tool-box +in case of a breakdown.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A sensation has been caused in +Scotland, says <i>The National News</i>, by +the passing of a number of counterfeit +Treasury notes. As we go to press we +learn that most of the victims are going +on as well as can be expected, though +recovery is naturally slow.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mr. WILLIAM LE QUEUX is said to +be very much annoyed at the wicked +way in which Russia has been +appropriated by other writers.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Much regret is felt at the news that +the recent outbreak of Jazz music is +not to be dealt with at the Peace +Conference.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Is gallantry dying out? We ask +because <i>Tit Bits</i> has an article +entitled, "Women Burglars." +We may be old-fashioned, but +surely it should be "Lady Burglars."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>On the last day for investing +in National War Bonds, a +patriotic subaltern was heard +at Cox's asking if his overdraft +could be transferred to these +securities.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"The market price of radium +to-day," says a Continental +journal, "is £345,000 an ounce." In +order to avert waste and deterioration, +purchasers are advised +to store the stuff in barrels in +a large dry cellar.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mr. Punch does not wish to +boast unduly of his unique +qualities, but up to the time of +going to press he had made no +offer for Drury Lane Theatre.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>In view of the recent newspaper +articles on spiritualism, +several prominent persons are +about to announce that they +have decided not to grant any +interviews after death.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Liverpool Licensing Justices have +urged the Liquor Control Board to take +steps to prevent the drinking of methylated +spirits by women. It is suggested +that distillers should be compelled to +give their whisky a distinctive flavour.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"A box of cigarettes was all that +burglars took from the Theatre Royal, +Aldershot," says a news item. There +is something magnificently arrogant +about that "all."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"Saying 'Thank you' to a customer," +says a news item, "a Wallasey butcher +fell unconscious." In our neighbourhood +it used to be, until quite lately, +the customer who fell unconscious.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/53.png"><img width="100%" src="images/53.png" alt="" /></a><p>"NOW LOOK HERE, SIMPKINS—I CAN'T HAVE MY CHIEF +CASHIER TURNING UP LIKE THIS. IT'S A DISGRACE TO THE OFFICE."</p> + +<p>"WELL, SIR, I STARTED ALL RIGHT, BUT I CAME BY TUBE."</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page54" id="page54"></a>[pg 54]</span> + +<h2>THE CAREER.</h2> + +<p>My dear James,—Ere long the military +machine will be able to spare one +of its cogs—myself. Yes, James, soon +you will once again see me in my silk +hat, cerise fancy vest and brown boots +(among other garments). I think I +shall have brass buttons on all my +coats for the sheer joy of seeing them +without let or hindrance grow green +from lack of polish. I shall once again +train my hair in graceful curling strands +under (respectively) the south-east and +south-west corners of my ears. If I +meet my Brigadier in the street I shall +notice him or not just according to +my whim of the moment. But, James, +I shall have to work for my living. +There's the rub.</p> + +<p>I must say the Army tries to help +one. Somebody or other has issued a +whole schedule of civil occupations to +assist me in my choice of a career. It +offers an embarrassment of riches.</p> + +<p>Take the "A's." I was momentarily +attracted by <i>Air Balloon Maker</i>. +It sounds a joyous job. Think of the +delight of sending forth these delicate +nothings inflated and perfect. My only +fear is that I should destroy the fruits +of my own labour. One touch of my +rough hands is always inimical to an +air-balloon. And if you know of any +more depressing sight than a collapsed +air-balloon, all moist and incapable of +resurrection, for heaven's sake keep it +to yourself.</p> + +<p><i>Allowance Man</i> (<i>brewing</i>) sounds +hopeful. My only question is: Does +an <i>Allowance Man</i> (<i>brewing</i>) fix his +own allowance (brewed)?</p> + +<p>Am I slightly knock-kneed or am I +not? Do write me frankly on the +subject. You have seen me divested +of trousers. Because if I am then I +don't think I will try my luck as an +<i>Artist's Model</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Athlete</i>.—Ha! I feel my biceps and +find it not so soft. It's a wearing life, +though. Is there such a thing as an +<i>Athlete</i> (<i>indoor</i>)? You know my speed +and agility at Ludo.</p> + +<p>I flatter myself I have musical taste, +but <i>Back and Belly Maker</i> (<i>piano</i>) I +consider vulgar—almost indecent, in +fact. Such anatomical intimacy with +the piano would destroy for me the +bewitchment of the Moonlight Sonata.</p> + +<p>There is something very alluring +about <i>Bank Note Printer</i>. I see the +chance of continuing the Army trick of +making a living without working for it. +Surely a <i>Bank Note Printer</i> is allowed +his little perquisites. Why should he +print millions of bank notes for other +people and none for himself? I can +imagine an ill-used <i>Bank Note Printer</i> +very easily becoming a Bolshevist.</p> + +<p><i>Barb Maker</i> (<i>wire</i>) I do not like. I +have too many unpleasant memories of +the Somme. It is a hideous trade and +ought to be abolished altogether.</p> + +<p>If I am wrong correct me, but isn't +the prime function of a <i>Bargee</i> to swear +incessantly? Not my forte, James. +What you thought you heard that day +in 1911, when I missed a six-inch putt, +was only "Yam," which is a Thibetan +expression meaning "How dreadfully +unfortunate!" I knew a Major once—but +that's for another article.</p> + +<p>Beneath the heading "Bat" I find +<i>Bat Maker</i> (<i>brick</i>) and <i>Bat Maker</i> +(<i>tennis</i>). Under which king, James? +Anyway, I hate a man who talks about +a "tennis bat." He would probably +call football shorts "knickers."</p> + +<p>I am favourably inclined towards +<i>Bathing Machine Attendant</i> (why not +<i>Bathing Mechanic</i>, for short?) What +a grand affair to ride old Dobbin into +the seething waves and pretend he was +a sea-serpent! Confidentially, there +are lots of people to whose bathing-machines +I would give an extra push +when I had unlimbered their vehicles +and turned Dobbin's nose again towards +the cliffs of Albion.</p> + +<p>My pleasure in stirring things with a +ladle nearly decided me to train as a +<i>Bean Boiler</i>; but I fear the monotony. +Nothing but an endless succession of +beans, with never a carrot to make a +splash of colour nor an onion to scent +the steamy air. And, James, I have a +friend who is known to all and sundry +as "The Old Bean." Every bean I +was called upon to boil would remind +me of him, whom I would not boil for +worlds.</p> + +<p>Here is something extraordinarily +attractive—<i>Black Pudding Maker</i>. You +know black puddings. I am told that +when you stew them (do not eat them +cold, I implore you!) they give off +ambrosial perfumes, and that after tasting +one you would never again touch <i>pèche +Melba</i>. But as a <i>Black Pudding Maker</i> +should I become nauseated?</p> + +<p>Almost next door comes <i>Blood Collector</i>. +Wait while I question the Mess +Cook ... James, I cannot become a +Black Pudding maker. The Mess Cook +tells me that <i>Blood Collector</i> and <i>Black +Pudding Maker</i> are probably allied +trades. How dreadful!</p> + +<p>How about <i>Bobber?</i> Does that mean +that I should have to shear my wife's +silken tresses? Cousin Phyllis has +appeared with a tomboy's shock of hair, +and she says it "has only been bobbed." +By a "bobber"? I would like to +wring his neck. But if <i>Bobber</i> has +something to do with those jolly little +things that dance about on cotton +machines (aren't they called "bobbins"?) +I will consider it.</p> + +<p>I have not even finished the "B's." +A glance ahead and other enchanting +vistas are revealed. For instance, +<i>Desiccated Soup Maker, Filbert Grower</i> +and (simply) <i>Retired</i>.</p> + +<p>This Schedule is splendid in its way, +but why can't they be honest? They +must know that lots of us in our great +national army are in ordinary life just +rogues and vagabonds. The Schedule +ignores such honest tradesmen. How +is a respectable tramp to know when his +group is called for demobilisation if he +is not even given a group? What a +nation of prigs and pretenders we are!</p> + +<p>Yours ever, WILLIAM.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3><i>AUTRES TEMPS, AUTRES MOEURS.</i></h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>My baker gives me chunks of bread—</p> +<p>He used to throw them at my head;</p> +<p>His manners, I rejoice to state,</p> +<p>Have very much improved of late.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>My butcher was extremely gruff,</p> +<p>And sold me—oh, such horrid stuff;</p> +<p>But I observe, since Peace began,</p> +<p>Some traces of a better man.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I find my grocer hard to please</p> +<p>In little things like jam or cheese;</p> +<p>Now that the men are coming back</p> +<p>His scowl, I think, is not so black.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>My coalman is a haughty prince</p> +<p>No tears could move or facts convince;</p> +<p>But tyrants topple everywhere</p> +<p>And he too wears a humbler air.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>My milkman was a man of wrath</p> +<p>As he came down the garden path;</p> +<p>But, since the Hohenzollern fell,</p> +<p>I find him almost affable.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And what is this? My greengrocer</p> +<p>(A most determined character)</p> +<p>Approaches—'13 style—to say,</p> +<p>"What can I do for you to-day?"</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"GERMAN CONSTITUTION.</p> + +<p>Bill Disposing of Old Prussia."</p> + +<p><i>Manchester Guardian</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Tit for tat; Prussia had already disposed of Old BILL.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Mr. Cecil Harmswirth has vacated his +iffict in the 'gardtn suburb' at 0. Downing +Strtet."—<i>Daily Mail</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>To the evident consternation of Carmelite Street.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"'I am an A.B.C. girl,' said a passenger to +<i>The Daily Mirror</i>, 'and have been eleven +hours on my feet. If a get a seat in the +Dulwich omnibus, I shall have another hour's +standing before I get to my house.'"—<i>Daily Mirror</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>It seems to be high time that the +omnibus company adopted the railway +regulation, "Passengers are requested +not to put their feet on the seats, etc."</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page55" id="page55"></a>[pg 55]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/55.png"><img width="100%" src="images/55.png" alt="" /></a><h3>THE NEW COMMERCIAL TRAVELLER.</h3> +PUCK, R.A.F. (<i>to SHAKSPEARE</i>). "YOUR IDEA OF A GIRDLE ROUND ABOUT THE EARTH +IN FORTY MINUTES IS A BIT TALL, BUT YOU BET YOUR IMMORTALITY WE SHALL +GET AS NEAR IT AS WE CAN."</div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page56" id="page56"></a>[pg 56]</span> + +<h2>F. E.</h2> + +<h4><i>A simple Biographic Recitative based on the Tonic Sol-Fa Note of Mi.</i></h4> + +<p>In ante-bellum days, ah me, when I +a stuffman used to be, and proudly +pouched a junior's fee, the <i>Law List</i> +styled me "Smith, F.E." Oh, how +my place seemed small for me; not +that I scorned the stuffman's fee, but +stuffy courts did not agree with me. +I dearly longed to be respiring often, +fresh and free, the breath that was +the life of me, so I became a live M.P. +And, lest the spacious H. of C. should +fail to hold sufficiently the lot of air +respired by me, said I, "A soldier +I will be—not one of Foot (that's +Infantry), nor yet the reg'lar Cavalry, +for barrack-life will not suit me, yet +ride I must the high gee-gee;" so I +decided straight to be an officer of +Yeomanry. Drilling the troopers on the +lea, the vent I craved for gave to me. +Moreover, on my high gee-gee I learned +what galloping could be.</p> + +<p>Those back-bench days! Ah me, ah +me, rude Members christened me "F.E." +And even <i>Punch</i>, in kindly glee, once +on a time, did picture me a prowling +beast, beside the sea, all spotted o'er +with signs, "F.E." That patronymic +thus will be preserved for immortality. +Newspapers, too, I chance to see +sometimes apply that name to me.</p> + +<p>Although I found smart repartee, +shot forth from back seats, gave me +glee, still I aspired to climb the tree, +so with restrained temerity I donned a +gown of silk, <i>i.e.</i> became a fully-fledged +K.C. Then, after able A.J.B. was +shunted by his great party and A.B.L. +assumed the see, the latter's finger +beckoned me to face direct the enemy. +Anon the KING created me a member +of his own P.C.</p> + +<p>And then "the active life" for me, +as Galloper to "Gen'ral" C., the loyal +Ulsterman, to free from acts of Irish +devilry. I thanked "whatever gods +may be" for training with the Yeomanry!</p> + +<p>Then came the war with Germany. +Alas, again I sighed, "Ah me," and +viewed the aspect gloomily, for I was +then in apogee from all that mighty +company that domineered the H. of C. +A. ruled the roast, not A.J.B. But +happy thought, that company of muddlers +held one hope for me—my constant +pal of Yeomanry, the smashing, +dashing WINSTON C.; result—the +Censorship for me. But not for long. The +fresh and free and open air was calling +me, so off I went across the sea to join +the fighting soldiery. But soon there +came a call for me, and back I came +across the sea to be His Majesty's +S.-G.</p> + +<p>What next was I? Eureka! "<i>The</i> +Right Hon. <i>Sir</i> F.E. SMITH, K.C."</p> + +<p>Then came the storm. Sir EDWARD +C. threw up his job and let in me, before +I scarce could laugh, "He, he!" to be +His Majesty's A.-G. That wasn't bad, +I think, for me—a mild young man of +forty-three!</p> + +<p>Next came "the quiet life" for me. +I held my tongue, but drew my fee and +eke my A.-G. salary. Not e'en the great +calamity that overtook A.'s Ministry +and raised the wizard, D.L.G., to +offices of high degree disturbed my +sweet serenity. Nor did I jib when +Sir R.B. FINLAY took on unblushingly +the job that seemed cut out for me. +Unwilling <i>he</i> his weird to dree! <i>I</i> +whispered, "Mum's the word for me!"</p> + +<p>Now, after waiting patiently, as fits +a man of my degree, the Woolsack cries +aloud for me, and soft and soothing it +will be to my whole frame and dignity. +And unto those who wish from me to +know what will the ending be of my +august biography, I answer in a minor +key and classic language, "Wait and +see!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>TRANSFORMATION.</h2> + +<p>My house, which I am trying to let, +is a modest little affair in the country. +It has a small meadow to the south +and the road to the north. There are +some evergreens about the lawn. The +kitchen garden is large but most +indifferently tended; indeed it is partly +through dissatisfaction with a slovenly +gardener that I decided to leave. The +nearest town is a mile distant; the +nearest station two miles and a half. +We have no light laid on except in a +large room in the garden, where acetylene +gas has been installed.</p> + +<p>I am telling you these facts as +concisely as I told them to the agent. He +took them down one by one and said, +"Yes." Having no interest in anything +but the truth, I was as plain with him +as I could be.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "no gas anywhere +but in garden-room."</p> + +<p>"Yes, small paddock, about two +acres, to the south."</p> + +<p>"Yes, one mile from nearest town."</p> + +<p>I was charmed with his easy receptivity +and went away content.</p> + +<p>A few days later I received the +description of the house which the agent +had prepared for his clients. Being +still interested in nothing but the truth +I was electrified.</p> + +<p>"This very desirable residence," it +began. No great harm in that.</p> + +<p>"In heart of most beautiful county +in England," it continued. Nothing +very serious to quarrel with there; +tastes must always differ; but it puts +the place in a new light.</p> + +<p>"Surrounded by pleasure-grounds." +Here I was pulled up very short. My +little lawn with its evergreens, my +desolate cabbage-stalks, my tiny +paddock—these to be so dignified! And +where do the agents get their phrases? +Is there a Thesaurus of the trade, +profession, calling, industry or mystery? +"Garden" is a good enough word for +any man who lives in his house and is +satisfied, but a man who wants a house +can be lured to look at it only if it has +pleasure-grounds: is that the position? +Does an agent in his own home refer +to the garden in that way? If his +wife is named Maud does he sing, +"Come into the pleasure-grounds"?</p> + +<p>"Surrounded," too. I was so careful +to say that the paddock and so forth +were on one side and the road on the +other.</p> + +<p>I read on: "Situated in the old-world +village of Blank." And I had +been scrupulous in stating that we +were a mile distant—situated in point +of fact in a real village of our own, +with church, post-office, ancient landau +and all the usual appurtenances. And +"old world"! What is "old world"? +There must be some deadly fascination +in the epithet, for no agent can refrain +from using it; but what does it mean? +Do American agents use it? It could +have had no attraction for COLUMBUS. +Such however is the failure of our +modernity that it is supposed to be +irresistible to-day. And "village!" +The indignation of Blank on finding +itself called an "old world village" will +be something fierce.</p> + +<p>None the less, although I was amused +and a little irritated, I must confess to +the dawnings of dubiety as to the +perfect wisdom of leaving such a little +paradise. If it had all this allurement +was I being sensible to let others have +it, and at a time when houses are so +scarce and everything is so costly? +Had I not perhaps been wrong in my +estimate? Was not the sanguine agent +the true judge?</p> + +<p>I read on and realised that he was not. +"One mile from Blank station." Such +a statement is one not of critical +appraisement but of fact or falsity. The +accent in which he had said, "Yes, +two and a-half miles from the station," +was distinct in my ear.</p> + +<p>I read further. "Lighted by gas;" +and again I recalled that intelligent +young fellow's bright "Yes, gas only +in the garden-room."</p> + +<p>What is one to do with these poets, +these roseate optimists? And how +delightful to be one of them and refuse +to see any but desirable residences and +gas where none is!</p> + +<p>But it was the next trope that really +shook me: "Well-stocked kitchen-garden." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page57" id="page57"></a>[pg 57]</span> +Here I ceased to be amused +and became genuinely angry. The idea +of calling that wilderness, that monument +of neglect, "well-stocked." I +was furious.</p> + +<p>That was a week ago. Yesterday I +paid a flying visit to the country to +see how things were going and how +many people had been to view the place; +and my fury increased when, after again +and for the fiftieth time pointing out +to the gardener the lack of this and +that vegetable, he was more than +normally smiling and silent and dense +and impenitent.</p> + +<p>"You say here," he said at last, +pulling the description of the house +from his pocket and pointing to the +words with a thumb as massive as it +is dingy and as dingy as it is massive—"you say here 'well-stocked kitchen +garden.'" <i>You!</i></p> + +<p>And now I understand better the +phrases "agents for good" and "agents +for evil."</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/57.png"><img width="100%" src="images/57.png" alt="" /></a>PORTRAIT OF MR. ——, WHO HAD NO IDEA, WHEN HE FLED FROM LONDON TO ESCAPE AIR-RAIDS AND TOOK +A THREE YEARS' LEASE NEAR MAIDENHEAD, THAT THE WAR WOULD BE OVER SO SOON.</div> + +<hr /> + +<p>From an official circular:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"If the man in question happens to be a +seaman, he will be included on A.F.Z.8 in the +figures appearing in the square of intersection +between the horizontal column opposite Industrial +Group 2 and the vertical column for +Dispersal Area Ib." +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Yet there are people who still complain +of a want of simplicity in the +demobilisation regulations.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>STAGES.</h2> + +<h4>1914.</h4> + +<p>Mr. Smith (of Smith, Smith and +Smith, Solicitors) sat in his office +awaiting his confidential clerk. There +was a rattle as of castanets outside +the door. It was produced by the +teeth of the confidential clerk, Mr. +Adolphus Brown.</p> + +<p>Mr. Smith was a martinet ...</p> + +<h4>1915.</h4> + +<p>Second-Lieutenant A. Brown was +drilling his platoon. There was a +rattle as of castanets. It was produced +by the teeth of the platoon.</p> + +<p>Adolphus was a martinet ...</p> + +<h4>1916.</h4> + +<p>The raiding, party hurled itself into +the trench, headed by an officer of +ferocious mien. There was a rattle as +of castanets. It was produced by the +teeth of the 180th Regiment of Landsturmers, +awaiting destruction.</p> + +<p>Adolphus fell upon them ...</p> + +<h4>1917.</h4> + +<p>Captain A. Brown, M.C., on leave, sat +by his fireside. There was a rattle as +of castanets. It was produced by the +teeth of Adolphus, Junior.</p> + +<p>Daddy had changed ...</p> + +<h4>1918.</h4> + +<p>Major A. Brown, D.S.O., M.C. (on +permanent Home Service) was awaiting +the next case. There was a rattle +as of castanets. It was produced by +the teeth of No. 45012 Private Smith +(of Smith, Smith and Smith, Solicitors), +called up in his group and late for +parade.</p> + +<p>Adolphus was famous for severity ...</p> + +<h4>1919.</h4> + +<p>Mr. (late Major) Adolphus Brown +stood outside the door of Mr. (late +No. 45012) Smith (of Smith, Smith +and Smith, Solicitors). There was a +rattle as of castanets ...</p> + +<p>On which side of the door?</p> + +<p>Both.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Mr. Ian Macpherson, the new Chief Secretary +for Ireland, posed specially yesterday for +the <i>Sunday Pictorial</i>. He has a difficult task +to face."—<i>Sunday Pictorial</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Let us hope they will keep the portrait +from him as long a possible.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Three new telephone lines have been laid +between London and Paris, and it is now +possible to pick up a telephone in Downing +Street and speak directly to Mr. Lloyd George +at any time."—<i>Daily Chronicle</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Immediately on the appearance of the +above a long queue formed in Downing +Street. Further telephones are to be +installed to meet the rush. Some of the +messages to the PREMIER, we understand, +have been couched in very direct +language.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page58" id="page58"></a>[pg 58]</span> + +<h2>A TRAGEDY OF OVER-EDUCATION.</h2> + +<p>It must not be thought that I underestimate +the value of education as a +general principle; indeed I earnestly +beg of Mr. FISHER, should these lines +chance to meet his eye, not to be in +any way discouraged by them; but I +have been driven to the conclusion that +there is such a thing as over-education, +and that it has dangers. When you +have read this story I think you will +agree with me. It is rather a sad +story, but it is very short.</p> + +<p>The population of my poultry-yard +was composed of five hens and Umslumpogaas. +The five hens were creatures +of mediocrity, deserving no special +mention—all very well for laying eggs +and similar domestic duties, but from +an intellectual point of +view simply napoo, as +the polyglot stylists +have it. Far otherwise +was it with Umslumpogaas. +He was a pure +bred, massive Black +Orpington cockerel, a +scion of the finest strain +in the land. Indeed +the dealer from whom +I purchased him informed +me that there +was royal blood in his +veins, and I have no +reason to doubt it. One +had only to watch him +running in pursuit of a +moth or other winged +insect to be struck by +the essentially aristocratic +swing of his +wattles and the symmetrical +curves of his graceful lobes; +and the proud pomposity of his tail +feathers irresistibly called to mind the +old nobility and the Court of LOUIS +QUATORZE. Pimple, our tabby kitten, +looked indescribably bourgeois beside him.</p> + +<p>But it was not the external appearance +of Umslumpogaas, regal though +it was, that endeared him to me so +much as his great intellectual potentialities. +That bird had a mind, and I +was determined to develop it to the +uttermost. Under my assiduous tuition +he progressed in a manner that can +only be described as astonishing. He +quickly learned to take a letter from +the post-girl in his beak and deliver it +without error to that member of the +family to whom it was addressed. I +was in the habit of reading to him +extracts from the daily papers, and the +interest he took in the course of the +recent war and his intelligent appreciation +of the finer points of Marshal +FOCH'S strategy were most pleasing to +observe. He would greet the news of +our victorious onsweep with exultant +crows, while at the announcement of +any temporary set-back he would +mutter gloomily and go and scratch +under the shrubbery. On Armistice day +he quite let himself go, cackling and +mafficking round the yard in a manner +almost absurd. But who did not unbend +a little on that historic day?</p> + +<p>Perhaps his greatest achievement, +however, was the mastering of a system +of signals, a sort of simplified Morse +code, which we established through the +medium of an old motor-horn. One +blast meant breakfast-time; two intimated +that I was about to dig in the +waste patch under the walnut trees +and he was to assemble his wives for a +diet of worms; three loud toots were +the summons for the mid-day meal; +four were the curfew call signifying that +it was time for him to conduct his +consorts to their coop for the night; +and so on, with special arrangements +in case of air-raids. Not once was +Umslumpogaas at fault; no matter in +what remote corner of the yard he and +his hens might be, at the sound of the +three blasts he would come hastening +up with his hens for dinner. I was +most gratified.</p> + +<p>And then came the disaster. I was +sawing wood one morning in the saddle +house, and Umslumpogaas and +his wives were sitting round about the +door, dusting themselves. All was +peaceful. Suddenly down the lane +which passes the gate of my yard appeared +a large grey-bodied car. Some +school-children being in the road the +driver emitted three loud warning hoots +of his horn. In an instant Umslumpogaas +was on his feet and, his wives +at his heels, making a bee line for the +gate. By the time he reached it the +car had passed and was turning the +corner that leads to the village, when +the driver again sounded his horn +thrice. With an imperious call to his +wives to follow, Umslumpogaas set off +at full speed in pursuit, and before I +had fully grasped the situation my +entire poultry-yard had vanished from +sight in the wake of that confounded +motor-car. And it is the unfortunate +truth that neither Umslumpogaas nor +a single member of his harem has been +seen or heard of since. It is as bad as +the affair of the <i>Pied Piper</i> of Hamelin.</p> + +<p>I said at the beginning that this was +rather a sad little story. Taking into +consideration the present price of new-laid +eggs it amounts more or less to a +tragedy, and I put it down to nothing +but the baleful effects of over-education.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/58.png"><img width="100%" src="images/58.png" alt="" /></a>"GET ON WITH YOUR SUPPER, ROBERT. IT'S ONLY THE MISSUS, AND SHE +DAREN'T SAY ANYTHING FOR FEAR I SHOULD DEMOBILISE."</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>GARDENING NOTES.</h3> + +<p><i>Meconopsis cambrica</i> +(Welsh Poppy). Owing +to the wide popularity of +the energetic daughter +of the PRIME MINISTER +we understand that the +authorities at Kew have +decided to re-name this +plant <i>Meganopsis</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Digitalis</i>.—The spelling +of the homely name +of this well-known +plant is to be altered +in the Kew List to +<i>Foch's-glove</i>; the suggestion +of an interned +German botanist that +<i>Mailed Fist</i> would be +more suitable not having +met with the approval +of the Council of the Royal +Horticultural Society.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"SPAIN'S REPUBLICAN PARLIAMENT.</p> + +<p>Lisbon, Wednesday.—It would seem that +the Cabinet just formed by Senhor Tamagnini +Barbosa will have in the next Parliament a +moderate Republican majority."—<i>Liverpool Daily Post</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>No other journal seems to have noticed +the re-annexation of Portugal by Spain.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"The task of fitting the square men created +by the war into square holes is certainly going +to be one of tremendous magnitude."—<i>Lancashire Daily Post</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>From some of the new Government +appointments we gather that the PRIME +MINISTER gave up the task in despair.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Wanted to purchase elephants, sound and +without vice, and to sell a variety of pigeons +at reasonable prices."—<i>Pioneer (Allahabad).</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>But we doubt if the advertiser will be +able to get all the elephants, however +free from vice, into the old pigeon-house.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page59" id="page59"></a>[pg 59]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/59.png"><img width="100%" src="images/59.png" alt="" /></a><h3>BRIGHTER CRICKET.</h3></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE FINANCIER.</h2> + +<p>He had sat at the same table in the +same restaurant for years—more years +than he cared to count. He was not as +young as be used to be.</p> + +<p>Always when he could he sat on the +comfortable sofa-like seat on the wall +side of the table. When that was fully +occupied he sat on the other side on an +ordinary upright chair, in which he +could not lounge at ease.</p> + +<p>He sat there now discontentedly, +keeping a watchful eye for vacancies in +the opposite party.</p> + +<p>Half-way through his meal a vacancy +occurred. He pushed his plate across +the table and went round, sinking with +a sigh into the cushioned seat.</p> + +<p>The departing customer had left the +usual gratuity under the saucer of his +coffee-cup. In a minute or two the +waitress would collect the cup and +saucer and the coins.</p> + +<p>But the waitress was busy. The +room was full and there was the usual +deficient service.</p> + +<p>He finished eating, lighted a cigarette +and called for a cup of coffee. It was +then, I think, the thought came to him.</p> + +<p>The other man's cup, saucer and money +were still there.</p> + +<p>His hand fluttered uncertainly over +the cloth among the crockery. There +seemed to be nobody looking. His +fingers slid under the other man's +saucer and in a moment the money was +under his own.</p> + +<p>He rose, took his hat and bill and +went.</p> + +<p>We left soon after.</p> + +<p>"How mean!" said my wife. "Did +you see? He made the other man's +tip do. Even a woman wouldn't have +done that."</p> + +<p>It seemed severe, I thought, but that +is what she said.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"The rats were chased out of camp and +their skins tanned and made into dainty +purses and handbags."—<i>Manchester Guardian</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>The rats having in their hurry left their +skins behind them.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"The front door of the Lord Mayor's coachman +opens on to a long, narrow staircase."—<i>Weekly Dispatch</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Very interesting, no doubt; but the +general public would have preferred to +learn something about his bow-window.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>IN WINTER.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Boreas blows on his high wood whistle,</p> +<p class="i2">Over the coppice and down the lane</p> +<p>Where the goldfinch chirps from the haulm of the thistle</p> +<p class="i2">And mangolds gleam in the farmer's wain.</p> +<p>Last year's dead and the new year sleeping</p> +<p class="i2">Under its mantle of leaves and snow;</p> +<p>Earth holds beauty fast in her keeping</p> +<p class="i2">But Life invincible stirs below.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Runs the sap in each root and rhizome,</p> +<p class="i2">Primrose yellow and snowdrop cold,</p> +<p>Windyflowers when the chiffchaff flies home,</p> +<p class="i2">Lenten lilies with crowns of gold.</p> +<p>Soon the woods will be blithe with bracken,</p> +<p class="i2">April whisper of lambs at play;</p> +<p>Spring will triumph—and our old black hen</p> +<p class="i2">(Thank the Lord!) will begin to lay.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>ALGOL.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A "Dry" State.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +"On the declaration of the armistice with +Bulgaria this Balkan-Jug stopped running."—<i>Observer.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page60" id="page60"></a>[pg 60]</span> + +<h2>THE NEW NAVY.</h2> + +<blockquote class="note"><p> +["The New Navy of small craft, created by the special needs of the +War ... has every reason to be proud of its share in bringing the +War to a victorious conclusion. The good wishes of the Board of +Admiralty and the Royal Navy will follow the armed yachts, trawlers, +drifters and motor-boats after they have hauled down the colours +they flew as His Majesty's Auxiliary Patrol Vessels."</p> + +<p><i>Admiralty Message to the Auxiliary Patrol Service</i>.] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The Old Navy wakened and got under way</p> +<p>And hurried to Scapa in battle array,</p> +<p>While the drifters and trawlers looked on from afar</p> +<p>At the cruisers and battleships off to the War;</p> +<p>Having sped their departure with ev'ry good wish,</p> +<p>The drifters and trawlers returned to their fish.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Do you know the sensation, so hard to explain,</p> +<p>Of living a former existence again,</p> +<p>With never a clue to the why or the when?</p> +<p>Well, the drifters and trawlers were feeling it then,</p> +<p>And the sea chuckled deep as it washed to and fro</p> +<p>On the hulls of the battleships up in the Flow.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The Old Navy waited, the Old Navy swore,</p> +<p>While battleships costing two millions and more</p> +<p>Reviewed the position from starboard to port:</p> +<p>"It's small craft again, but we're terribly short;</p> +<p>Let us pray for the Empire whose sun never sets;"</p> +<p>Then the fishing fleet pensively hauled in its nets.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And rolling with laughter, at varying speeds</p> +<p>The New Navy sped to the Old Navy's needs;</p> +<p>Unblushingly paintless, by units or lots,</p> +<p>Came drifters and trawlers and whalers and yachts;</p> +<p>And, heedless of Discipline Acts, I've been told,</p> +<p>The New Navy cheerfully winked at the Old.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Without any pride but the pride of its race,</p> +<p>The New Navy took its historical place</p> +<p>In warfare on quite unconventional lines</p> +<p>As hunting sea vermin or sweeping for mines,</p> +<p>Till the sea would agree when a battleship swore</p> +<p>That surely they'd helped an Old Navy before.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Through Summer and Autumn, through Winter and Spring</p> +<p>The Old Navy patiently guarded the ring.</p> +<p>The while the Auxiliaries out on the blue</p> +<p>Were making the most of the flag that they flew,</p> +<p>And a cruiser would call to her sister, astern,</p> +<p>"Precocious as ever, they've nothing to learn!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The Old Navy stretched as they got under way</p> +<p>To take the Surrender that fell on a Day,</p> +<p>And the drifters and trawlers looked on from afar</p> +<p>At the cruisers and battleships winning the War,</p> +<p>And, cheering the conquest with ev'ry good wish,</p> +<p>Prepared to go back to their nets and their fish.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But scarce had the fishing fleet time to turn round</p> +<p>When there fell on their ears a remarkable sound,</p> +<p>And some who were present have given their word</p> +<p>That the roll of DRAKE'S drum through the squadrons was heard;</p> +<p>Resulted a sequel as strange as it's true,</p> +<p>The Old Navy solemnly winked at the New.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The moral is simple but worthy of note</p> +<p>Whenever the spirit of DRAKE is afloat,</p> +<p>There's only one Navy when foes come to grips,</p> +<p>And nobody knows it so well as the ships,</p> +<p>And so when the small craft are blessed by the Board,</p> +<p>Demurely they murmur: "<i>New</i> Navy? Oh, Lord!"</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BEAUTY COLUMN.</h2> + +<h4>(<i>Latest Style.</i>)</h4> + +<p>We four are <i>such</i> friends, Estelle, Rosalie, Beryl and I. +If we weren't could we sit round and say the things to +each other that we do? I ask you.</p> + +<p>It's quite a small flat we have, just the one room, but +it's <i>so</i> convenient. There's a chemist's next door, so it's +no walk to get <i>everything</i> we require.</p> + +<p>We were sitting round our cosy fireplace, wishing it +were summer or that we had some coal, when one of those +thoughts that make me so loved occurred to me.</p> + +<p>"Estelle darling," I asked, though I knew, because the +box was on the mantelpiece; "how <i>do</i> you get that lovely +flush? Your nose is such a <i>delicious</i> tint; it reminds me +of a tomato."</p> + +<p>"I owe my colour to my fur coat," replied Estelle +frankly; "you've no idea how warm it keeps me. I +think a natural glow is so much more becoming than +an artificial one."</p> + +<p>"By the way, Madge," put in Rosalie (I'm Madge), "as +you've started the game may I ask you a question? How +do you get such a lovely shine on <i>your</i> nose?"</p> + +<p>"Chamois leather," I replied sweetly. (You see we're +such friends we love telling each other our boudoir secrets.)</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew how you keep those cunning little curls, +Estelle," sighed Beryl longingly. "<i>My</i> hair is so horribly +straight."</p> + +<p>"It's quite easy," explained Estelle; "you can do it +with any ordinary flat-iron, though of course an electric-iron +is the best. If you heat the iron over the gas or fire +(if any) it gets sooty, and if you've golden hair, as I +have this year—well. Only," she went on warningly, +"always see that you lay your curl flat on the table +before you iron it."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could get my hands as white as yours, Beryl," I said.</p> + +<p>"You can't expect to, darling; working at Whitehall as +you do your fingers are bound to get stained with nicotine. +Warm water and soap is all <i>I</i> use. First I immerse +my hands in tepid water, then I rub the soap (you can +get it at any chemist's or oil-shop) into the pores—you 'd +be surprised how it lathers if you do it the right way—and +then I rinse the soap off again. I learnt that trick from +watching our washer-woman—she had such lovely hands."</p> + +<p>"Why do you never use powder now, Estelle?" asked +Rosalie. "Before the War one could never come near you +without leaving footprints."</p> + +<p>"My reasons were partly patriotic, conserving the food supply, +you know, and partly owing to the mulatto-like +tint the war-flour gave me. One doesn't want to go about +looking half-baked, does one?"</p> + +<p>"No," we murmured, making a pretty concerted number of it.</p> + +<p>"But wrinkles, darling Estelle," I pleaded—"do tell us +what you do for your wrinkles."</p> + +<p>"Wrinkles," murmured Estelle, with a pretty puckering +of her brow—"I haven't any left; I've given them all to you."</p> + +<p>[EDITORIAL NOTE.—This series will not be continued in our next issue.]</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"MUSICAL.</p> + +<p>1916 car, nearly new, two-seater body, hood, screen, complete, +£13."—<i>Provincial Paper</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>At that price it probably would be "musical."</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"The latest telegrams from Berlin state that the Spartacus +(Extremist) leaders are in extremis."—<i>Sunday Paper</i>, +</p></blockquote> + +<p>But, confound it, that's their element.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page61" id="page61"></a>[pg 61]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/61.png"><img width="100%" src="images/61.png" alt="" /></a> <i>Sergeant</i>. "ONLY ONE BUTTON DECENTLY CLEAN. AND I SUPPOSE YOU MANAGED TO GET THAT ONE BRIGHT BY RUBBIN' OF IT AGAINST THE CANTEEN COUNTER."</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A MILITARY EDUCATIONAL PROBLEM.</h2> + +<p>Dear Mr. Punch,—I write to ask +your advice. As you know, the Army +Council in its wisdom decreed that the +Army, before being demobilised, must +be educated. I have been chosen as +one of the Educators.</p> + +<p>My efforts to lead the Army into the +paths of light and learning were crowned +with success until in an evil moment +I undertook to teach Private Goodbody. +This genial ornament of our regimental +sanitary squad is especially anxious to +plumb the mysteries of arithmetic. +When he had, as I thought, finally +mastered the principle that if you borrow +one from the shillings' column you +must pay it back in the pounds' column, +I set him the following sum:—</p> + +<p>"Supposing you owed the butcher +sixteen shillings and three pence halfpenny +and took a pound note to pay +him with, how much change ought he +to give you?"</p> + +<p>Private Goodbody scratched his head +for several minutes and at last decided +that he did not know.</p> + +<p>"But come, Goodbody," I urged, +"surely it's quite easy." And I repeated +the question.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Sir; I don't never +have no truck with butchers," he declared +emphatically. "I leaves that +'ere to the missus."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" I said, "and how does <i>she</i> +get the money to pay him?"</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> gives it 'er," said Goodbody.</p> + +<p>"What does she do with the change?" I asked next.</p> + +<p>"Gives it back to me, I reck'n," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Well," I continued, "if you don't +know how much change there ought +to be when you give her a pound and +she spends sixteen shillings and three +pence halfpenny, how do you know she +gives you back the right amount?"</p> + +<p>Private Goodbody eyed me with +something suspiciously like contempt.</p> + +<p>"If my missus started playin' any o' +them monkey tricks on me, givin' the +wrong change an' sich, I'd put it acrost +'er," he said.</p> + +<p>And there the matter rests for the +present. I feel that I should not lead +Private Goodbody any further into the +intricacies of his subject until he has +solved my problem. This he resolutely +professes himself unable to do, and begs +to be allowed to leave it and plunge +into the giddy vortex of the multiplication table.</p> + +<p>Yours faithfully, MENTOR.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"A cable message of 100 words from London +to Johannesburg to-day, at 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> a word, +costs £1 10<i>s.</i>"—<i>Evening Paper</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We suppose the Post Office makes a +reduction for taking a quantity.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE WIND.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The day I saw the Wind I stood</p> +<p>All by myself inside our wood,</p> +<p>Where Nurse had told me I must wait</p> +<p>While she went back through the white gate</p> +<p>To fetch her work ... I don't know why,</p> +<p>But suddenly I felt quite shy</p> +<p>With all the trees when Nurse was gone,</p> +<p>For quietness came on and on</p> +<p>And covered me right round as though</p> +<p>I was just nobody, you know,</p> +<p>And not a little girl at all...</p> + + +<p>But <i>then</i>—quite sudden—HER torn shawl</p> +<p>Came through the trees; I saw it gleam,</p> +<p>And SHE was near. Just like a dream</p> +<p>She looked at me. Her lovely hair</p> +<p>Was waving, waving everywhere,</p> +<p>And from her shawl—all tattery—</p> +<p>There blew the sweetest scents to me.</p> +<p>I didn't ask her who she was;</p> +<p>I didn't <i>need</i> to ask, because</p> +<p>I <i>knew!</i> ... That's all ... She didn't wait;</p> +<p>She <i>went</i>—when Nurse called through the gate.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"HOT WATER BATTLES—Best quality rubber, +from 4/3 each." —<i>Parish Magazine</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>A new kind of tank warfare, we suppose.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page62" id="page62"></a>[pg 62]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/62.png"><img width="100%" src="images/62.png" alt="" /></a><h3>OUR DANCING MEN.</h3> + +<p>"WHO'S THE SLIGHTLY ANCIENT DAME THAT THAT KID BINKS HAS BEEN DANCING WITH ALL THE EVENING?"</p> + +<p>"I DUNNO. YOUNG BINKS DOESN'T EITHER. BUT HE SAYS SHE'S THE ONLY WOMAN IN THE ROOM WITH A GLIMMERING OF HOW TO 'JAZZ.'"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THOUGHTS IN COMMITTEE.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The War decays; the Offices disperse,</p> +<p>And after many a bloomer flies the don;</p> +<p>All kinds of Bodies perish with a curse,</p> +<p>And only my Committee lingers on,</p> +<p>Still rambles gaily in the same old rings,</p> +<p>Still sighs, "At any rate, we are at one";</p> +<p>Yet even here, so catching, are these things,</p> +<p>Something, I think, is going to be done.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>For me, I would not anything were done,</p> +<p>But would for ever sit on this soft seat</p> +<p>Each sweet recurrent Saturday, and run</p> +<p>An idle pencil o'er the foolscap sheet,</p> +<p>The free unrationed blotting-pad, and scrawl</p> +<p>Delightful effigies of those who speak,</p> +<p>But not myself say anything at all,</p> +<p>Only be mute and beautiful and meek ...</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Are there not Ministers and ex-M.P.'s,</p> +<p>A Knight, a Baronet, a Brigadier?</p> +<p>Is it not wonderful to be with these,</p> +<p>To watch, and after in the wifely ear</p> +<p>Whisper, "This morning I exchanged some words</p> +<p>With old Sir Somebody, who thought of Tanks;</p> +<p>I saw the Chairman of the Board of Birds;</p> +<p>I said, 'How are you?' and he answered, 'Thanks'"?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>So let us sit for ever—and expand;</p> +<p>Let us be paid, not properly, but well.</p> +<p>Let more men come, all opulent and bland,</p> +<p>So that we qualify for some hotel,</p> +<p>So that, as all the Constitution grows</p> +<p>From little seeds long buried in the past,</p> +<p>We too may be a part of it! Who knows?</p> +<p>We may become a Ministry at last.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And if indeed our end must be more tame,</p> +<p>Let large well-mounted photographs be made</p> +<p>Of this high gathering, and let each name</p> +<p>Beneath each face be generously displayed,</p> +<p>That I may say, when penury has crept</p> +<p>Too near for decency, to some old snob,</p> +<p>"<i>That</i> was the kind of company I kept</p> +<p>When England needed me"—and get a job.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>A.P.H.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Good Servants of all kings required at once.—Apply Mrs. ——'s +Registry."—<i>Provincial Paper</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>There should be a good supply, as several monarchs have +lately given up housekeeping.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"REQUIRED, ROMPOTER, to float £50,000 company for manufacturing +bricks for reconstruction. Curiosity mongers please refrain."—<i>Daily Paper</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>But for the warning we should have been sorely tempted +to inquire what a "Rompoter" may be.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page63" id="page63"></a>[pg 63]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/63.png"><img width="100%" src="images/63.png" alt="" /></a><h3>"DORA" DISCOMFITED.</h3> + +<p>"DORA." "WHAT, NO CENSORSHIP?" [<i>Swoons.</i>]</p> + +<p>[The Foreign Office has announced that Press Correspondents' messages about the Peace Congress will not be censored.]</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page65" id="page65"></a>[pg 65]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/65.png"><img width="100%" src="images/65.png" alt="" /></a><i>Jock</i>. "BON JOUR, M'SIEUR. NOUS AVONS REVENUS DE PERMISSION ET NOUS SOMMES BLINQUANT MISERABLE. SI VOUS FEREZ MON +AMI DE SOURIRE, JE DONNERAI VOUS DIX FRANCS."</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE WAR DOGS' PARTY.</h2> + +<p>I am a plain dog that barks his mind +and believes in calling a bone a bone, +not one of your sentimental sort that +allows the tail—that uncontrollable seat +of the emotions—to govern the head. +I voted Coalition, of course. As a +veteran—three chevrons and the Croix +de Guerre—I could hardly refuse to +support the man who above all others +helped us war dogs to beat the Bosch. +But to say that I am satisfied with the +way things are going on—that's a +mouse of a very different colour, as the +phrase goes. A terrier person who claims +to own the PRIME MINISTER and has +been very busy demanding what he calls +our invaluable suffrages buttonholed +me the other day outside the tripe shop +and commenced to tell me all the wonderful +things that we dogs would get if +we only elected a strong Coalition Government—better +biscuits, larger kennels, +equal rabbits for all and I don't know +what else. But when I asked him +plainly, "Are you in favour of keeping +out the dachshunds?" the fellow +hedged and said the question was not +so important as some people seemed to +think, and that financial interests had +to be considered.</p> + +<p>And that's how the War Dogs' Party +came to be formed, for when they heard +how the land lay some of the influential +dogs in our neighbourhood called a +meeting in Jorrocks' Mews and elected +me chairman. We decided that membership +should not be confined to dogs +who had actually seen service at the +Front, but that any dog who had faced +the trials of the War in the spirit of +true patriotism should be eligible. A +slight difficulty was encountered in the +case of the Irish terrier who owns the +butcher's shop and notoriously has +never been on bone rations, some of +the young hotheads claiming that he +was not eligible. But Snap is a very +popular dog, and when he is not brooding +over his national grievances is a merry +fellow and always ready to share a bone +with a pal. So I ruled that on account +of the historic wrongs of Ireland we +would overlook Snap's defiance of the +Public Bones Order and allow him to be one of us.</p> + +<p>One of the first things you learn in +the trenches is the use of tact in coping +with delicate situations. Well, we drew +up a very strong platform and were on +the point of carrying it unanimously +when our secretary, a clever fellow but +temperamental, like all poodles, spotted +the big yellow cat from No. 14 slinking +down the street on some poisonous +errand or other, and the meeting adjourned +in what I can only describe as +a disorderly manner. Of course we are +treating the Declaration of Peace Aims, +as we called it, as carried, though the +secretary insists on adding a fifteenth +point, which he says is of vital importance, +relating to the Declawing of Yellow Cats.</p> + +<p>The first plank in our platform is +BRITAIN FOR BRITISH DOGS, which +sounds very well, don't you think? +Sassafras, the Aberdeen terrier from +No. 3, a solid fellow but unimaginative, +wanted it to be ONCE A U-DOG ALWAYS +A U-DOG, but I ruled that that couldn't +be right because once there had been a +U-dog next door to us, but now there +wasn't. Of course they all wanted to +hear about it, but we war dogs are +supposed to be as modest as we are +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page66" id="page66"></a>[pg 66]</span> +brave, so I simply said that he was +<i>spurlos versenkt</i>. But it isn't only +German dogs we draw the line at. +Take the Pekinese. I've always said +if we didn't combat the Yellow Peril +we'd regret it, and now the pests +are everywhere. My master's woman +has one which she calls Pitti Sing. +Did you ever hear of such a name for a +dog? But then it isn't a dog in the +real sense of the word. Only last +Friday the little beast flew at me—all +over an absurd chicken bone which +was really meant for me but had been +put on to its plate by mistake—and +deliberately filled my mouth full of +nasty fluffy fur.</p> + +<p>Of course the woman had to come in +at that moment and, instead of chastising +the little monster, she grabbed it +up and hugged it, saying, "Diddums +nasty great dog bite um poor ickle +Pitti Singums?" and a lot more silly +rot equally at variance with the facts. +I wagged my tail at her to show it +wasn't my fault, but she just wouldn't +see reason and told master that I must +have a good whipping. Of course +master and I both know that one isn't +whipped for a little thing like that, so +we retired into the study, and while +master pretended to whip me I pretended +to howl. I was just beginning +to howl in a very lifelike way when the +woman rushed in and called master a +cruel brute, and said she didn't mean +him to hurt me really.</p> + +<p>Women are funny creatures and I'm +glad I don't own one. Snap, the butcher's +dog, even went so far as to suggest +that we should adopt anti-feminism +as a plank in our platform, but the Irish +Wolfhound who comes from Cavendish +Square said that his mistress was driving +an ambulance in France and that, +in her absence, anyone who had anything +to say against women would have +to see him first. Of course it's very +difficult to argue with that kind of dog, +and, though Snap seemed inclined to +press the point, I ruled the proposal out +of order. The value of resource is one +of the things you learn in the Army.</p> + +<p>I think Snap was rather relieved +really, because after the meeting he +asked me to go and help him dig up a +nearly new mutton bone that he had +buried under a laurel bush in the Square.</p> + +<p>Well, to return to our platform, what +we say about these foreign dogs is +"Keep them all out." Of course there +are some Allied dogs, like Poodles and +Plumpuddings and Boston terriers, that +have earned the right to be considered +one of ourselves, but when it comes to +having Mexican Hairless and Schipperkes +and heaven knows what else +coming into the country and taking +the biscuits out of our mouths—well, +we say it isn't good enough. Not that +we're insular, mind you, but to hear +some of these mangy foreigners talking +about the Brotherhood of Dogs! But +I must tell you how Bolshevism raised +its ugly head in our midst. It was +while we were discussing the second +plank in our platform, which is "DOGS, +NOT DOORMATS."</p> + +<p>But there, Master is calling me to +take him for a walk, so it must wait +till next week. ALGOL.</p> + +<p>(<i>To be continued.</i>)</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/66.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/66.png" alt="" /></a> +<p><i>Official (to applicant for post as policewoman)</i>. "AND WHAT WOULD YOU DO IN THE EVENT OF A STREET ACCIDENT?"</p> + +<p><i>Applicant</i>. "OH, I SHOULD—ER—CALL A POLICEMAN."</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"German civil officials in Nancy must +salute American officers. Failure to obey the +order means arrest."—<i>Globe</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We hear that the same regulation +applies to all German civil officials in +Lyons, Toulouse and Bordeaux.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page67" id="page67"></a>[pg 67]</span> + +<h2>NEW BOOKS</h2> + +<h3>FROM MESSRS. TRUEMAN AND WASHINGTON'S LIST.</h3> + +<h3><i>THE ZOOMERS.</i></h3> + +<h4>By GLADYS WANK.</h4> + +<h4><i>Price</i> 6/11¾.</h4> + +<p>A new writer who by virtue of her godlike +genius takes her seat with HOMER, +DANTE, SHAKSPEAKE and MARIE CORELLI, +and a novel such as the world has not known +since <i>The Miseries of Mephistopheles</i> startled +the comatose mid-Victorians from their +slumbers—both stand revealed in these soul-shaking +pages. To say that this is the +novel of the year is to malign its greatness +It is the novel of the century, of all centuries, +of all time.</p> + +<h4>FIRST REVIEW BEFORE PUBLICATION.</h4> + +<blockquote><p> +"It is not saying too much, when I +solemnly assert that I really believe that +Miss Wank's first book is the best she has +ever written."—"<i>A MAN OF KENT</i>," in +<i>The Scottish Treacly</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3><i>SIMIAN SONGS.</i></h3> + +<h4>BY ISABEL MUNKITTRICK.</h4> + +<h4><i>Price</i> 11/3½.</h4> + +<p>These remarkable lyrics are translations +into vernacular verse of the prose versions +of specimens of the literature of the great +apes of Africa, collected by Professor GARNER. +It is not too much to say that those touching +<i>cris de coeur</i> redolent of the jungle, the +lagoon and the hinterland, will appeal with +irresistible force to all lovers of sincere and +passionate emotion. The Chimpanzee's +"swing song" on page 42 is a marvel of +oscillating melody.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3><i>THE MILLENNIUM viâ ARMAGEDDON.</i></h3> + +<h4>BY REV. ANGUS WOTTLEY, D.D.</h4> + +<h4><i>With a Foreword by</i> PRINCIPAL CAWKER.</h4> + +<h4><i>Price</i> 9/4¼.</h4> + +<p>This is a work of over 120,000 words of +extraordinary beauty and distinction. It +has gone into 150 editions in Patagonia, +where the editions are very large, and ought +to be in great demand in this country. +Tiberius Mull, writing in the Literary Supplement +of <i>The Scottish Oil World</i>, uses +these remarkable words: "I do honestly +believe that Dr. Angus Wottley's book is +the most weighty volume he has ever given +to the world."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3><i>POLLY ANDREA'S SACRIFICE.</i></h3> + +<h4>By SALINA LAKE.</h4> + +<h4><i>Price</i> 8/3½.</h4> + +<p>This is the first attempt to present the +limitations of the modern monogamous +system in its true polyphonic perspective, +several huge editions having been exhausted +before publication. Professor McTalisker +writes in the Theological Supplement of +<i>John Bull</i>: "For a person in a state of +partial exhaustion I can imagine no more +efficacious stimulant than is to be found +in those beautiful pages. Not being +acquainted with any of the earlier works of +the author, I can honestly declare that in +my opinion it is the best thing that I have +read from her pen, and, further, that it has +made a deeper impression upon me than +any other work which I have not read but +which deals with the same subject."</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href="images/67.png"><img width="100%" src="images/67.png" alt="" /></a><h3>DOPE.</h3> +<i>Jack</i>. "'ERE'S AN ARTICLE 'ERE ON THE 'FASCINATION OF OPIUM SMOKIN'.' FASCINATION, I DON'T FINK! THE ONLY TIME I SMOKED IT WAS IN CHINA, AN' FOR THREE +DAYS I 'AD AH 'EAD ON ME LIKE A SMOKE BARRAGE."</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>PEACE AND PROMOTION.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Lucasta, prideful times they were</p> +<p class="i2">When first it came to pass</p> +<p>That on each shoulder I might bear</p> +<p class="i2">A little star of brass.</p> +<p>And when by reason of my zeal</p> +<p class="i2">I was awarded twain,</p> +<p>'Twas not mere vanity to feel</p> +<p class="i2">Almost as proud again.</p> +<p>My warrior soul was filled with song</p> +<p class="i2">In triumph's clearest key,</p> +<p>When, feeling thrice as broad and strong,</p> +<p class="i2">My shoulders shone with three.</p> +<p>Yet these I'll gladly from their place</p> +<p class="i2">Remove, and in their stead</p> +<p>Support one star of gentler grace—</p> +<p class="i2">Lucasta's golden head.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"GENTLEMAN required, knowledge of short-hand +essential although not absolutely necessary."—<i>Local Paper</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>A very nice distinction.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"In my opinion the Asiatic cholera, 1850-1851, +took more lives and caused more anxiety +than the flu. In Spanish Town, with a +population of 5,000, 7,800 died."—<i>Daily Gleaner</i> (<i>Kingston, Jamaica</i>). +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We agree that the 'flu mortality can +hardly have been greater than this.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Flageolets soaked or parboiled previously +and placed in alternate layers in a fireproof +dish with sliced tomato or potato sprinkled +with onion also make a valuable dish." <i>—Evening Paper</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We have fortunately not yet been reduced +to eating our wood-wind instruments; +but we think we should need a +double-bass to wash them down.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page68" id="page68"></a>[pg 68]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:55%;"><a href="images/68.png"><img width="100%" src="images/68.png" alt="" /></a><i>Impressed Rustic Sightseer</i>. "AY, AMOS, IT MUST TAKE YEARS OF OILING AN' COMBING TO TRAIN HAIR LIKE THAT."</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE MUD LARKS.</h2> + +<p>I met a man in the Club at Lille the +other day who told me that he knew +all about women. He had studied the +subject, he said, and could read 'em like +an open book. He admitted that it +took a bit of doing, but that once you +had the secret they would trot up and +eat out of your hand.</p> + +<p>Having thus spoken he swallowed +three whiskies in rapid succession and +rushed away to jump a lorry-ride to +Germany, and I have not seen him +since, much to my regret, for I need +his advice, I do.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>We splashed into the hamlet of +Sailly-le-Petit at about eight o'clock of +a pouring dark night, to find the inhabitants +abed and all doors closed upon us.</p> + +<p>However, by dint of entreaties whispered through +key-holes and persuasions cooed under window-shutters, +I charmed most of them open again and got +my troop under cover, with the exception of one section. +Its Corporal, his cape spouting like a miniature watershed, +swam up. "There's a likely-lookin' farm over +yonder, Sir," said he, "but the old gal won't let us in. +She's chattin' considerable." I found a group of +numb men and shivering horses standing knee-deep +in a midden, the men exchanging repartee with a +furious female voice that shrilled at them from a +dark window. "Is that the officer?" the voice demanded. I admitted as +much. "Then remove your band of brigands. Go home to England, where +you belong, and leave respectable people in peace. The War is finished."</p> + +<p>I replied with some fervour (my boots were full of water and my cap dribbling +pints of iced-water down the back of my neck) that I was not playing the +wandering Jew round one-horse Picard villages in late December for the amusement +I got out of it and that I could be relied on to return to England at the +earliest opportunity, but for the present moment would she let us in out of the +downpour, please? The voice soared to a scream. No, she would not, not +she. If we chose to come soldiering we must take the consequences, she +had no sympathy for us. She called several leading saints to witness that +her barn was full to bursting anyhow and there was no room. That was +that. She slammed the window-shutter and retired, presumably to bed. +The Corporal, who had been scouting round about, returned to report room for all hands +in the barn, which was quite empty. Without further ado I pushed all hands +into the barn and left them for the night.</p> + +<p>Next morning, while walking in the village street, I beheld a remarkable +trio approaching. It consisted of a venerable cleric—his skirts held high +enough out of the mud to reveal the +fact that he favoured flannel underclothing +and British army socks—and +a massive rustic dressed principally in +hair, straw-ends and corduroys. The +third member was a thick short bulldog +of a woman, who, from the masterly +way in which she kept corduroys from +slipping into the village smithy and +saved the cleric from drifting to a +sailor's grave in the duck-pond, seemed +to be the controlling spirit of the party. +By a deft movement to a flank she +thwarted her reluctant companions in +an attempt to escape up a by-way, +and with a nudge here and a tug there +brought them to a standstill in front of +me and opened the introductions.</p> + +<p>"M. le Curé," indicating the cleric, +who dropped his skirts and raised his +beaver.</p> + +<p>"M. le Maire," indicating corduroys, +who clutched a handful of straw out of +his beard and groaned loudly.</p> + +<p>"<i>Moi, je suis Madame, Veuve Palliard-Dubose</i>," +indicating herself.</p> + +<p>I bowed, quailing inwardly, for I +recognized the voice. She gave corduroys +a jab in the short ribs with her +elbow. "<i>Eh bien</i>, now speak."</p> + +<p>Corduroys rolled his eyes like a +driven bullock, sneezed a shower of +straw and groaned again.</p> + +<p>"<i>Imbécile!</i>" spat Madame disgustedly and prodded the Curé. But the Curé +was engaged in religious exercises, beads flying through his fingers, lips +moving, eyes tight closed. Madame shrugged her shoulders eloquently as if +to say, "Men—what worms! I ask you," and turned on me herself. She +led off by making some unflattering guesses as to my past career, commented +forcibly on my present mode of life, ventured a few cheerful prophecies +as to my hereafter and polished +off a brisk ten minutes heart-to-heart +talk by snapping her fingers under my +nose and threatening me with the guillotine +if I did not instantly remove my +man-eating horses from her barn.</p> + +<p>"Observe," she concluded triumphantly, +"I have the Church and State +on my side."</p> + +<p>"Have you?" I queried. "Have you? Look again."</p> + +<p>She turned to the right for the Mayor, but a strong +trail of straw running up the by-way told that that +massive but inarticulate dignitary had slunk home to +his threshing. She turned to the left for the Curé, but +the whisk of a skirt and a flannel shank disappearing +into the church-porch showed that the discreet +clerk had side-stepped for sanctuary. I thought it +kinder to leave Madame the widow Palliard-Dubose to +herself at this juncture, but something told me I had not +heard the last of her. Nor had I. A week later an imposing +document was forwarded from the orderly-room +for my "information and necessary +action, please." It emanated from the +French Military Mission and claimed +from me the modest sum of two thousand +three hundred and fourteen francs +on behalf of one Madame Veuve Palliard-Dubose, +of the village of Sailly-le-Petit, +Pas de Calais, the claimant alleging +that my troopers had stolen unthreshed +wheat to that value wherewith +to feed their horses. A prompt settlement +would oblige.</p> + +<p>I fled panic-stricken down to stables and wagged the document in the faces +of the thieves. They were virtuously indignant; hadn't pinched no wheat-straw +at all—not in Sailly-le-Petit. Might have been a bit absent-minded-like at +Auchy-en-Artois, and again at Pressy-aux-Bois mistakes may have been +made, but here never—no, Sir, s'welp-them-Gawd. I wrote to the French +Mission denying the impeachment. They replied with a fresh shower of +claims. I answered with a storm of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page69" id="page69"></a>[pg 69]</span> +denials. The sky snowed correspondence. Just when the French were +putting it all over me and my orderly-room was hinting that I had best pay +up and save the Entente Cordiale, the French ran out of paper and sent one +of their missionaries in a car to settle the matter verbally. I gave him a +good lunch, an excellent cigar and spread all the facts of the case before +him as one human to another. He spent an hour nosing about the village, +and the result of his investigations was that Madame Veuve Palliard-Dubose, +so far from having her wheat stolen, had had no wheat to steal, and furthermore +never in the course of her agricultural activities had she harvested +crops to the value of Francs 2314. Virtue triumphant. Evil vanquished. +Madame the widow Palliard-Dubose retired grimly into her cabin, slamming +the door on the world.</p> + +<p>Yesterday was New Year's Day. Imagine my surprise when, on visiting +the horses at mid-day, Madame Veuve Palliard-Dubose leaned over the half-door +of her dwelling and waved her hand to me. "<i>Ah, ha, Monsieur le +Lieutenant</i>", she crowed, "many felicitations +on this most auspicious day! <i>Bon jour, belle année</i>!"</p> + +<p>I was so staggered I treated her to +my <i>perfecto superfino</i>, my very best +salute (usually reserved for Generals +and Field Cashiers). "The same to you, +Madame, and many of 'em. <i>Vive la France!</i>"</p> + +<p>Madame bowed and smiled with all +her features. "<i>Vive l'Angleterre</i>!" +What a lot of weather we were having, +weren't we? and what a glorious victory +it had been, hadn't it?—mainly due +to the dear soldiers, she felt sure. She +hoped I found myself enjoying robust health.</p> + +<p>I replied that I was in the pink myself and trusted she was the same.</p> + +<p>Never pinker in her life, she said; +everything was perfectly lovely. She +beckoned me nearer. She had a small +favour to ask. At this season of peace +and goodwill would the so amiable +Lieutenant deign to enter her modest +abode and take a little glass of <i>vin +blanc</i> with her?</p> + +<p>The "amiable Lieutenant" would be enchanted.</p> + +<p>She swung the door open and bowed +me in. The glasses were already filled +and waiting on the table—a big one +for me, a little one for her.</p> + +<p>We clicked rims and lifted our elbows +to the glorious victory, to the weather +(which was rotten) and our mutual +pinkness.</p> + +<p>"<i>A votre santé, mon Lieutenant</i>!" +crooned Madame the widow Palliard-Dubose.</p> + +<p>"<i>À votre, Madame</i>," replied her Lieutenant, +quaffing the whole issue in one +motion. Paraffin, ladies and gentlemen, +pure undiluted paraffin—paugh! wow! ouch!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>If the fellow I met in the Lille Club +who reads women's souls and gets 'em +to feed out of his hand should also +happen to read this, will he please +write and tell me what my next +move is? PATLANDER.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href="images/69.png"><img width="100%" src="images/69.png" alt="" /></a>"IT'S PERFECTLY SIMPLE, UNCLE—TWO SLOW, THREE QUICK, THREE SIDE CHASSÉES, WOBBLE WOBBLE, LAME DUCK, LAME DUCK, DIP, GRASSHOPPER, TWO SLOW, SWIVEL, SCISSORS, JAZZ-ROLL, KICK, TURN, TWO CHASSÉES, BACK, TWINKLE, AND ON AGAIN."</div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"TOO LATE FOR CLASSIFICATION.</p> + +<p>12 March and April pullets laying rabbits."—<i>Advt. in Local Paper</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Personally we should place these admirable +birds in a class by themselves.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"HUNT FOR CIGARETTES.</p> + +<p>STATE CONTROL ENDS, BUT SUPPLY STILL +SCARCE."—<i>Daily Chronicle</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Is this the fag-end of State control, or +the State control of fag-ends?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Girl, about 18, for grocery; permanency; +experience not necessary; must love locally."—<i>Daily Paper</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>But we doubt if this attempt to constrain +the tender passion within geographical +limits will prove a "permanency."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>There was a young man from Dundee</p> +<p>Who didn't succeed with the Sea;</p> +<p class="i4">So they gave him command</p> +<p class="i4">Of the Air and the Land</p> +<p>Just to make it quite fair for all three.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page70" id="page70"></a>[pg 70]</span> + +<h2>THE END OF THE VOLUNTEERS.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>And now the fell decree by post went out</p> +<p>That all the world might understand and know</p> +<p>How that our Volunteers henceforth must live</p> +<p>A quite unkhaki'd and civilian life,</p> +<p>Stripped of their rifles, bared of bayonets too.</p> +<p>Ah, many a time had we passed by to drill</p> +<p>And scorned the loafer who hung round to see,</p> +<p>The while, with accurate swift-moving feet</p> +<p>And hands that flashed in unison, we heard</p> +<p>The Sergeant-Major's voice in anger raised</p> +<p>Because we did not mark it as he wished;</p> +<p>Or uttering words of praise for them that knew</p> +<p>To act when rear rank got itself in front.</p> +<p>And ah, we knew to mount a gallant guard,</p> +<p>To fix our sentries, and to prime them well</p> +<p>With varied information that might serve</p> +<p>To help them in their duties and to make</p> +<p>Them glib and eloquent when called upon</p> +<p>In all the changes of this martial life.</p> +<p>And we could march in line and march in fours,</p> +<p>And bear ourselves ferociously and well</p> +<p>When the inspecting officer appeared.</p> +<p>And, one great day—it was our apogee—</p> +<p>When volunteers for France were called upon,</p> +<p>A forest of accepting hands went up;</p> +<p>But nothing further ever came of it.</p> +<p>At any rate it showed a right good will</p> +<p>And stamped our Volunteers as gallant stuff</p> +<p>To serve their country should the need arise.</p> +<p>And now their rifles have been ta'en away,</p> +<p>Their side-arms are removed, and they themselves</p> +<p>Are mocked in obloquy and sunk in scorn.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE LINGUIST.</h2> + +<p>Nancy is eleven and thinks I know everything. I never +could resist or contradict her.</p> + +<p>"Now tell me about animals in Africa," she said. "Tell me lots."</p> + +<p>This was better than usual, for I possess a heavily-mortgaged +and drought-stricken farm in some obscure +corner of that continent and have spent much time disputing +with beasts who refused to acknowledge my proprietary claims.</p> + +<p>So I told Nancy tales of lions that roared till the stars +tumbled out of the sky with fright, and, when she crept +very close to me, of the blue monkeys with funny old faces +who swung through the trees and across the river-bed to +steal my growing corn. I told her of the old ones who +led them in the advance and followed in the retreat, chattering +orders, and of the little babies who clung to their +mothers. I told her that monkeys elected not to talk lest +they should be made to work, but that there were a few +men living who understood their broken speech and could +hold communion with them.</p> + +<p>She led me on with little starts and questions and—well, +I may all unwillingly have misled her as to my general +intelligence.</p> + +<p>"We'll go to the Zoo to-morrow," Nancy commanded, +"and you can talk to the monkeys and find out what they +think. Let's."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Nancy shook her curls and turned her back on the patient-looking +bear.</p> + +<p>"He's stupid," she said. "Why can't you find the +monkeys? You know you promised."</p> + +<p>I suggested luncheon, but was overruled, and, on turning +a corner, read my fate in large letters on the opposite +building.</p> + +<p>"Come on," said Nancy, taking me by the hand.</p> + +<p>Her first selection was very old and melancholy. He +accepted a piece of locust-bean with leisurely condescension +and watched us with quiet interest as he chewed. He +rather frightened me; the wisdom of all the ages was +behind his wrinkled eyes.</p> + +<p>"When you were in your prison did the Germans feed +you through the bars?" Nancy asked with great clearness.</p> + +<p>Several people in the vicinity became aware of our existence +and, feeling the limelight upon me, I again mentioned +the lateness of the hour.</p> + +<p>"Talk to him," she said. "Ask him what it's like in +there."</p> + +<p>I treated the blinking monkey to a collection of clicks +and chuckles which would have startled even a professor +of the Bantu languages. He finished his bean and emitted +a low bird-like call.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" asked Nancy.</p> + +<p>"You see," I said, "he's brown and comes from a different +part of the country. It's like Englishmen and +Frenchmen. Now, if he was blue—"</p> + +<p>"Ask that keeper," said Nancy.</p> + +<p>"He's very busy," I whispered. "We oughtn't to interrupt +him."</p> + +<p>Nancy at once ran over to the man.</p> + +<p>"Have you got any blue ones?" she asked. "'Cos <i>he</i> +can talk to them. We'd like to see one."</p> + +<p>The man looked at me without interest. I was an +amateur and a rival; but Nancy's smile can work wonders.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Missy," he said, "a beauty round here."</p> + +<p>We reached the cage all too soon.</p> + +<p>"Now talk," Nancy ordered.</p> + +<p>Again I went through my ridiculous performance. The +monkey looked at the keeper.</p> + +<p>The hand which lay in mine told me that Nancy's confidence +was waning. I knew then how much I valued it.</p> + +<p>"Not very well, is he?" I asked of the keeper. "A little +out of sorts—this weather, you know."</p> + +<p>My reputation was in his hands, but I dared make no +sign. Nancy's eyes were on my face.</p> + +<p>The man looked at me and then at the eager little face +below him. "Heavy cold, Sir," he said stolidly. "Always +makes 'em a bit hard o' hearing. Poor old Topsy! Want +to be left alone, do you?"</p> + +<p>"What a pity," said Nancy. "Mother <i>will</i> be sorry to +hear that the only one you could speak to was so ill and +deaf."</p> + +<p>"What were you giving him?" she asked as we walked +away.</p> + +<p>"Only a little New Year present for his children," I said.</p> + +<p>"How do you know he's got any children?" Nancy +demanded. "He didn't say so, did he?"</p> + +<p>"No, but I'm quite certain he has," I answered.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Letter received by an officer in Egypt:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"Sir I have the honour and the opportunity to write you a letter +and I am coming to ask you and to pray you perhapse perchance it +is possible to found for me employment for translator. I am verry +sorry and mutch vex grieve bother pester haras teass consequently +accordingly consequtivey I made you acknowledg may petion request +and to bid you peradvanture well you occpied me for 6 months with +a contract. I beg you verry mutch to anwer respond reply if that +letter I supose deeme concieve cogitate mediat when you will received +my letter you will respond me at once imadiatty from your cervill +and faitfull." +</p></blockquote> + +<p>It is inferred that the would-be "translator" kept a +dictionary at his elbow and took no chances.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page71" id="page71"></a>[pg 71]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/71.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/71.png" alt="" /></a> +<p><i>Visitor</i>. "YOU FOUGHT WITH THE GALLANT 51ST DIVISION, DID YOU NOT?"</p> + +<p><i>Scot</i>. "AY—D'YE MIND MY FACE?"</p> + +<p><i>Visitor</i>. "OH—NOT AT ALL."</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<h4>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</h4> + +<p>I wonder if I am alone in a feeling of impatience and +bewilderment over what I may call half-fairy stories. +Magic I understand and love; but this now diluted form of +it leaves me cold. Take for example the book that has +occasioned this complaint, <i>The Curious Friends</i> (ALLEN AND +UNWIN), an unconventional and perhaps just a little +silly tale about a secret association of children and grownups, +pledged to mutual help and a variety of altruistic +aims—a scheme, with all its faults, at least human and +understandable. But Miss C.J. DELAGREVE has chosen to +complicate it by (apparently) a dash of the supernatural, +in the person of a character called <i>Saint Ken</i>, about whom +we are told that he lived in a tunnel on the Underground +and employed himself in helping distressed passengers. +Well, what I in my brutal way want to know is whether +this is a joke, or what. Because if I have to credit it, over +goes the rest of the plot into frank make-believe. And +fantasy of this kind consorts but ill with a scheme that +embraces such realities as heart-failure and typhus. Not +in any case that Miss DELAGEEVE'S plot could be called +exactly convincing. "Preposterous" would be the apter word +for this society of the Blue-Bean Wearers, in which vague +elderly persons wandered about with sadly self-conscious +children and talked like the dialogue in clever books. This +at least was the impression conveyed to me. I may add +that I was continually aware of a certainty that Miss +DELAGREVE will do very much better when she selects a +simpler and less affected subject.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>In <i>Douglas Jerrold</i> (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) Mr. +WALTER JERROLD has executed a pious task. He has +written the life of his grandfather, and has done it with +great enthusiasm. The work is in two volumes, one +thick and the other thin, and sometimes I cannot help +feeling that one volume, the thin one, would have been +enough. DOUGLAS JERROLD'S reputation depends upon his +work in <i>Punch</i> and his writing of plays, of which nearly +seventy stand to his credit. To <i>Punch</i> he contributed from +the second number and soon became a power by means +of "Mrs. Caudle's Curtain Lectures," "The Story of a +Feather" and countless other articles which suited the +taste of the public of that day. Of his work for <i>Punch</i> +there is only the barest mention in this book, for that story +has already been told at some length by the same author. +In the present book Mr. WALTER JERROLD devotes a large +amount of space to a review of DOUGLAS JERROLD'S theatrical +pieces. Where now is a five-act comedy, entitled +<i>Bubbles of the Day</i>, which at the time of its production +was described as "one of the wittiest and best constructed +comedies in the English language"? I am afraid that +this comedy, and even <i>Black-eyed Susan</i>, JERROLD'S greatest +triumph, have passed away into the limbo of forgotten +plays and can never return to us. Another drama had in +it as one of the characters "a certain cowardly English +traveller named Luckless Tramp," a name, I should have +thought, quite sufficient in itself to swamp every possible +chance of success; yet our forefathers seem to have had +no difficulty in accommodating themselves to it.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>In an author's note to <i>Moon of Israel</i> (MURRAY) Sir H. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page72" id="page72"></a>[pg 72]</span> +RIDER HAGGARD tells us that his book "suggests that the +real Pharaoh of the Exodus was not Meneptah or Merenptah, +son of Rameses the Great, but the mysterious usurper, +Amenmeses ..." I am not a student of Egyptology, and +in this little matter of AMENMESES am perfectly content to +trust myself to Sir RIDER, and, provided that he tells a good +tale, to follow him wherever he chooses to lead the way. +And this story, put into the mouth of <i>Ana</i>, the scribe, is +packed with mystery and magic and miracles and murder. +For fear, however, that this may sound a little too exhausting +for your taste, let me add that the main theme is the +love of the <i>Crown Prince of Egypt</i> for the Israelite, <i>Lady +Merapi, Moon of Israel</i>. Sir RIDER'S hand has lost none of +its cunning, and, though his dialogue occasionally provokes +a smile when one feels that seriousness is demanded, he is +here as successful as ever in creating or, at any rate, in +reproducing atmosphere. I hope, when you read this tale +of the Pharaohs, that you will not find that your memory of +the Book of Exodus is as faded as I found mine to be.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mr. CHRISTOPHER CULLEY, whom you may remember for +a bustling, rather cinematic story called <i>Naomi of the +Mountains</i>, has now followed this with another, considerably +better. <i>Lily of the Alley</i> (CASSELL) is, in spite of a title +of which I cannot too strongly disapprove, as successful a +piece of work of its own kind as anyone need wish for, showing +the author to have made a notable advance in his art. +Again the setting is Wild West, on the Mexican border, the +theme of the tale being the outrages inflicted upon American +citizens by VILLA, and what seemed then the bewildering +delay of Washington over the vindication of the flag. +The "Alley" of its unfortunate name is the slum in Kansas +City where <i>Dave</i>, stranded on his way westward, met the +girl to whom the laws of fiction were inevitably to join +him. I fancy that one of Mr. CULLEY'S difficulties may +have lain in the fact that, when the tale, following <i>Dave</i>, +had finally shaken itself from the dust of cities, the +need for feminine society was conspicuously less urgent. +Even after a rescued and refreshed <i>Lily</i> is brought up-country, +she is kept, so to speak, as long as possible at +the base, and only arrives on the actual scene of <i>Dave's</i> +activities in time to be bustled hurriedly out of the way of +the final (and wonderfully thrilling) chapters. The explanation +is, I think, that the cowboy, whom he knows so well, +is for Mr. CULLEY hero and heroine too. <i>Dave</i>, round +whom the story revolves, is a pleasant study of a type of +American youth which we are coming gratefully to estimate +at its true worth; but in the development of the theme +<i>Dave</i> soon becomes almost insignificant beside the greater +figure of the cowboy, <i>Monte Latarette</i>. For him alone I +should regard the book as one not to be missed by anyone +who values a handling of character at once delicate and +masterful.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>Keeling Letters and Recollections</i> (ALLEN AND UNWIN) is +a book that will perhaps rouse varied emotions in those +who read it. Regret there will be for so much youth and +intellectual vigour sacrificed; admiration for courage and +for a patriotism that circumstances made by no means the +simple matter of conviction that it has been for most; and +vehement opposition to many of the views (on the War +especially) held by the subject of the memoir. By sympathy +and environment KEELING was, to begin with, a wholehearted +admirer of Germany. Strangely, in one of his +social views, he carried this admiration even to the extent of +advocating a Teutonic control that should include Holland. +To such a mind the outbreak of war with Germany may well +have seemed the last horror. But he admitted no choice. +Within a few days he was a private soldier; he was killed, +as sergeant-major, while bombing a trench on August 18, +1916. The spirit in which he entered the War is shown in +an extract from a letter: "What we have got to do in the interest +of Europe is to fight Germany without passion, with +respect." How grimly those last two words sound now! +Through everything KEELING held with a generous obstinacy +to his original prejudices. Germany remained most tragically +his second fatherland. Somewhere he writes, "I expect I +shall be a stronger Pacifist after the war than any of the +people who are Pacifists now. But I don't feel one will have +earned the right to be one <i>unless one has gone in with +the rest</i>." The italics are mine. Before a vindication +so unanswerable criticism has no further word to say.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Extract from collected works, of Viscount HALDANE OF +CLOAN, O.M., K.T., Op. 3001, Minister of Reconstruction. +Report of the Machinery of Government Committee +(Cd. 9230), par. 12:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"We have come to the conclusion, after surveying what came +before us, that in the sphere of civil government the duty of investigation +and thought, as preliminary to action, might with great +advantage be more definitely recognised." +</p></blockquote> + +<p>"That's the stuff to give 'em."</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Every boy in the street knows that all component factors in +Jugo-Slav countries have proclaimed the union of Jugo-Slavia under +the sceptre of the Karagorgjevic dynasty, and that the jurisdiction +of the new Jugo-Slav Government extends over Belgrade and Nish, +as well as over Zagreb, Sarajevo, Spljet, or +Ljubljana."—<i>Letter to "Manchester Guardian."</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Then why all this talk about the necessity of higher education!</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/72.png"><img width="100%" src="images/72.png" alt="" /></a><p><i>Cophetua's Queen (on her first visit to a new royal residence).</i> +"OH, COPH! AIN'T IT A DINK!"</p> + +<p><i>King Cophetua</i>. "My DEAR CHILD, BEFORE REMARKING THAT +IT IS ALL YOURS AND NOT GOOD ENOUGH, I WOULD LIKE TO +POINT OUT THAT YOUR LANGUAGE, THOUGH EXCUSABLE, IS NOT +QUITE IN KEEPING WITH YOUR ELEVATED POSITION."</p></div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11225 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/11225-h/images/53.png b/11225-h/images/53.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c5418bf --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/53.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/55.png b/11225-h/images/55.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a24ed04 --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/55.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/57.png b/11225-h/images/57.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c22628f --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/57.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/58.png b/11225-h/images/58.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a60da71 --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/58.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/59.png b/11225-h/images/59.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c6c2475 --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/59.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/61.png b/11225-h/images/61.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..55f97ec --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/61.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/62.png b/11225-h/images/62.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2609ea2 --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/62.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/63.png b/11225-h/images/63.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..da44396 --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/63.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/65.png b/11225-h/images/65.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..db0b9e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/65.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/66.png b/11225-h/images/66.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0cfdfa4 --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/66.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/67.png b/11225-h/images/67.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..addce72 --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/67.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/68.png b/11225-h/images/68.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a3d8049 --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/68.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/69.png b/11225-h/images/69.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a7ae5d9 --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/69.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/71.png b/11225-h/images/71.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d06048b --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/71.png diff --git a/11225-h/images/72.png b/11225-h/images/72.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fbb8cbb --- /dev/null +++ b/11225-h/images/72.png |
