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Some +declare that his energy is due to an hallucination that they are +German generals. Others say the whole story is a clumsy attempt to +discredit him with the Labour party.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Dublin Corporation has decided to increase its revenue by eight +thousand pounds by raising the charge on water. Citizens are urged +to put patriotism before prejudice and give the stuff a trial.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The inconveniences that attend influenza reached their climax a +few days ago when an occupant of a crowded tube train blew the nose +of the man next to him in mistake for his own.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The beggar who has been going about telling a pitiful story of +being wounded by a trench-mortar during the Jutland battle is now +regarded by the police as an impostor.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A defendant in a County Court case at Liverpool last week stated +in his evidence that he had been on the telephone for the last +twenty years. In fairness to the Postal authorities he should have +admitted that it was a trunk call.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href= +"images/233.png"><img width="100%" src="images/233.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Foreman (late R.S.M.).</i> "'ERE! YOU AIN'T IN THE ARMY NOW. +THERE'S NO CALL FOR <i>YOU</i> TO KEEP A WATCH ON THE RHINE."</p> +</div> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A lady-correspondent, writing to a daily paper, laments the fact +that the War has changed a great many husbands. Surely the wife who +receives the wrong husband can get some sort of redress from the +War Office.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>All the main-line railways are to be electrified, Sir ERIC +GEDDES told the House of Commons. Meanwhile he has successfully +electrified all the old buffers.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A number of women are doing good work as mates on Medway sailing +barges. The denial of the report that one of them recently looked +at a Wapping policeman for five minutes on end without once +repeating herself may be ascribed to professional jealousy.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"The small car," says a trade contemporary, "has come to stop." +We can well believe it. It is an old habit.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>It has been discovered that the new Education Act, which +prohibits boys under twelve being worked for more than two hours on +Sunday, may apply to choir-boys. A Commission, we understand, is to +be called upon to decide finally whether they are really boys or +just little demons.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A man who applied to the Bloomsbury County Court for relief +against an eviction order stated that he could find no other +suitable house, as he had nine children under fourteen years of +age. His residential problem remains unsolved, but we understand, +with regard to the other difficulty, that the Board of Works has +offered to sell him a card index at considerably below cost.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"Bridegrooms," says a contemporary, "are discovering that +weddings cost more." The growing practice among fathers-in-law of +delivering their daughters "free at rail," instead of, as formerly, +"from house to house," may have something to do with it.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"Ramsgate," says <i>The Daily Mail</i>, "is racing Margate in +Thanet's reconstruction." At present Margate still claims to lead +by one nigger and two winkle-barrows.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The Colorado Legislature has passed a resolution in favour of +Irish independence. The remark attributed to Mr. A.J. BALFOUR, that +he always thought Colorado was the name of a twopenny cigar, has +failed to make the situation easier.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"A pupil at a West London 'out-of-work' school," says a news +item, "daily attends his studies in an opera-hat." On being +informed of this fact, Sir THOMAS BEECHAM is reported to have +expressed the opinion that its significance was obvious.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>President WILSON, it is announced, hopes to visit Scotland +shortly for some golf. He believes that some adjustment of the +dispute as to the respective merits of the running-up and +pitch-and-stop methods of approach should be embodied in the Peace +terms if international harmony is to be really secured.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Primroses and crocuses are blooming in North London. Pending an +official announcement by <i>The Daily Mail</i> people are requested +to accept this as a preliminary Spring.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Concrete ships, says a Government official, can be made in +moulds. But of course you must not forget to grease the tin.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A Sinn Feiner, arriving home in Crossgar, Co. Down, last week, +had a very hearty welcome. Thirteen spectators and seven policemen +were injured.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Many members of the Bar are greatly afraid that some learned +judge will ask, "What is the Jazz-step?" before the question has +really been settled by the dancers themselves.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The young lady who, on receiving a proposal of marriage over the +telephone last week, replied, "Yes, who's speaking?" turns out to +be an ex-typist recently demobilised from the Air Ministry.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>It is interesting to note that to-day is the anniversary of the +day that was not a Flag-day last year.</p> +<hr /> +<h4>Another Sex-Problem.</h4> +<blockquote> +<p>"Information Wanted as to the whereabouts of James +—— (née Liza ——), ship agent. Last +heard of 30 years ago."—<i>Glasgow Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page234" id="page234"></a>[pg +234]</span> +<h2>THE PRELIMINARY DOVE: ITS PROSPECTS.</h2> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Within a little week or two,</p> +<p class="i2">So all our sanguine prints declare,</p> +<p>The Dove (or Bird of Peace) is due</p> +<p class="i2">To spread its wings and take the air,</p> +<p class="i4">Like Mr. THOMAS when he flew</p> +<p class="i4">Across the firmamental blue</p> +<p class="i4">To join the PREMIER in communion</p> +<p class="i4">Touching the Railway Workers' Union.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>We've waited many a weary week</p> +<p class="i2">With bulging eyes and fevered brow,</p> +<p>While WILSON pressed upon its beak</p> +<p class="i2">His League-of-Nations' olive bough,</p> +<p class="i4">Wondering what amount of weight</p> +<p class="i4">Its efforts could negotiate,</p> +<p class="i4">How much, in fact, the bird would stand</p> +<p class="i4">Without collapsing on the land.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And, even though it should contrive</p> +<p class="i2">To keep its pinions on the flap,</p> +<p>And by a <i>tour de force</i> survive</p> +<p class="i2">This devastating handicap,</p> +<p class="i4">Yet are there perils in the skies</p> +<p class="i4">Whereon we blandly shut our eyes,</p> +<p class="i4">But which are bound to be incurred,</p> +<p class="i4">And, notably, the Bolshy-bird.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>This brand of vulture, most obscene,</p> +<p class="i2">May have designs upon the Dove;</p> +<p>Its carrion taste was never keen</p> +<p class="i2">On the Millennial reign of Love;</p> +<p class="i4">And I, for one, am stiff with fear</p> +<p class="i4">About our little friend's career,</p> +<p class="i4">Lest that disgusting fowl should maul</p> +<p class="i4">And eat it, olive-branch and all.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I mention this to mark the quaint</p> +<p class="i2">Notion of "Peace" the public has,</p> +<p>That wants to smear the Town with paint,</p> +<p class="i2">To whoop and jubilate and jazz;</p> +<p class="i4">And while our flappers beat the floor</p> +<p class="i4">There's Russia soaked in seas of gore,</p> +<p class="i4">And LENIN waxing beastly fat;</p> +<p class="i4">Nobody seems to think of that.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>O.S.</p> +<hr /> +<h2>PERFECTLY UNAUTHENTIC ANECDOTES.</h2> +<p><i>which may be reproduced (with the permission of Mr. Punch) in +any forthcoming volume of Anybody's Reminiscences</i>.</p> +<p>"You do things so sketchily and casually," said FRITH to +WHISTLER one day. "Now when I paint a picture I take pains. 'The +Derby Day' cost me weeks and months of sleeplessness. I did nothing +else; I gave my whole mind to it." "Oh," said WHISTLER, "that's +where it's gone to, is it?"</p> +<hr /> +<p>When Mr. BERNARD SHAW made his tour of the ports in order to +popularise Socialism in the Navy, he was courteously received at +Portsmouth by Sir HEDWORTH MEUX. The talk happened to turn on the +theatre, and the Admiral was candid enough to confess himself +somewhat at sea with regard to the merits of contemporary writers. +"Now, Mr. SHAW," he said in his breezy way, "I wish you would tell +me who is the most eminent of the playwrights of to-day?" "Ay, ay, +Sir," said Mr. SHAW promptly.</p> +<hr /> +<p>Dr. Brotherton told me that he was once with MATTHEW ARNOLD in +an election crowd at Oxford, when the Professor of Poetry +accidentally collided with a working-man flown with Radicalism and +beer. "Go to blazes!" said the proletarian. "My friend," replied +ARNOLD, "we are well met. In me you see the official representative +of Literature, whereas you, I perceive, stand for Dogma."</p> +<hr /> +<p>Mrs. Brown of Newquay, who claims to be the original <i>Mrs. +Partington</i>, told me that SYDNEY SMITH'S last years were +overclouded by his inability to discover the riddle to which the +answer is contained in the words, "The one rode a horse and the +other rode a dendron."</p> +<hr /> +<p>Probably few people remember a Nottinghamshire poet of an +earlier day who fulfilled with much conscientiousness the duties of +local laureate. It was the age of Notts's pre-eminence in cricket, +and that, with other reasons, inspired the bard to write some +verses which opened with the line, "Is there a county to compare +with Notts?" The county of Derby was jealous of its neighbour in +other things besides sport, and considered itself to have scored +when its own tame minstrel retorted with a parody +ending:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">"Is there a county to compare with Notts?</p> +<p class="i30">Lots!"</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Unfortunately the thing was catching, and other counties did +their best to follow suit, though with considerable difficulty as +to rhymes. I think it was a singer of Tavistock who won the +laurels. After disposing of an adjacent rival with the contemptuous +jingle, "Dorset—Curse it!" he wound up:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Is there a country to compare with Devon?</p> +<p class="i30">Heaven!"</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<p>Lady Crownderby once told me that she was among the first to see +Lord HOUGHTON on his return from Spain, and she asked him what he +thought of Spanish women in comparison with those of our own +country. "My dear lady," replied HOUGHTON, "I feel like LOT when he +escaped from the Cities of the Plain."</p> +<hr /> +<p>At a dinner given in honour of her nephew's appointment to a +Rural Deanery, Mrs. Hinkson-Hanksey told me that she once rallied +DISRAELI on his lack of religious profession, saying how much it +compromised him in the eyes of many of his fellow-countrymen in +comparison with his great rival. "My dear lady," said DISRAELI, +"you are aware that the New Testament divides all men into two +categories. Without specifying the class to which I personally +belong, I am quite willing to admit that Mr. GLADSTONE is a sheep +and possesses many of the characteristics of that admirable +animal."</p> +<hr /> +<p>When I was at Hawarden in the summer of 1893, little DOROTHY +DREW asked her grandfather for the loan of a book "to press flowers +in." It is a process, as readers may know, not good for the book, +and I thought the illustrious statesman and bibliophile looked a +little embarrassed. But his face cleared in a moment, and he went +out of the room and presently returned with a sufficient volume, in +which the flowers were duly laid, the book being then, with the +united efforts of the company, subjected to the necessary pressure +under a heavy cabinet. Anxious to know which volume of his beloved +library Mr. GLADSTONE had selected for desecration, I took an early +opportunity of furtively examining the title of the tortured tome. +It was <i>Coningsby</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<h4>Another Impending Apology.</h4> +<blockquote> +<p>"Councillor ——'s son will be married to the eldest +daughter of Councillor ——. The members of the +Corporation are invited to the suspicious event."—<i>Local +Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page235" id="page235"></a>[pg +235]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/235.png"><img width="100%" src="images/235.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<h3>THE DISTRACTIONS OF AN INDISPENSABLE.</h3> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page236" id="page236"></a>[pg +236]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/236.png"><img width="100%" src="images/236.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Sergeant</i>. "NOW, ME LAD, A SUIT OF MUFTI OR FORTY-FIVE +SHILLINGS?" <i>Tommy</i>. "OO, LUMME! I'LL PAY THE +FINE."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>GALLERY PLAY.</h2> +<p>It wasn't till Panmore noticed its absence on his return from +France that I remembered the little oil painting which I had left +at the Ferndale Gallery on sale or return, during the early days of +the War, when my financial outlook was bad.</p> +<p>Panmore said he had always wanted to buy it, but hadn't liked to +ask me if I would part with it. I assured him that excess even of +delicacy was a mistake and that I would try to get the picture +back.</p> +<p>So I wrote to the Gallery thus:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>DEAR SIRS (it seemed absurd to write "Dear Gallery"),—In +1914 or 1915 I brought you a small oil painting, which you agreed +to sell or return to me. As I haven't heard from you since, I +conclude that there has been nothing doing in such pictures and I +should like to have it back. The picture is quite a small one, +about the size of an ordinary book, and so far as I recollect it +portrays a man looking at a horse, to see if its withers stand +where they did; or perhaps wondering whether he would sell it and +buy a scooter. As a matter of fact I never took particular notice +of the picture, not caring for it, but a friend of mine who knows +it well appears interested in it and wants to buy it. So please let +me have it back as soon as possible.</p> +<p>Yours faithfully,</p> +<p>THEOPHILUS B. PIPER-CARY.</p> +<p>P.S.—By the way, there's a cow, I remember, in the +background; a red one. Not a red background; a red cow.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This was the answer I received:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>DEAR SIR,—In reply to yours of the 13th inst., we remember +your visit, but cannot trace having such a picture as you describe +in our possession at present. We believe you dealt with our Mr. +James Langford, who joined up in May, 1915, and is not yet +demobilised. He is in Egypt at the moment, we understand, and we +are afraid it would take some time to get into communication with +him.</p> +<p>We shall be glad if under the circumstances you will allow the +matter to rest until his return.</p> +<p>In any case we are afraid we cannot hold ourselves responsible +for the picture, unless you can produce a receipt from us proving +that it reached us.</p> +<p>We are, Yours obediently,</p> +<p><i>pp</i>. THE FERNDALE GALLERY.</p> +<p>J.S.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The last paragraph in their letter gave me the impression that +they knew they had the picture but had mislaid it. Meanwhile +Panmore seemed so hot on it and I was so badly hit by the War that +I thought I would have another shot at recovering it. So I +addressed the Gallery as follows:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>DEAR SIRS,—Thanks for your letter, and in reply I should +be obliged if you could get another search party out. I have found +a receipt for the picture, signed with a name that might, if +straightened out, be James Langford.</p> +<p>My friend is getting quite excited about it, and he is the sort +of person one wants to humour. He is a Lieut.-Colonel, an O.B.E., +and, what is more important still, one of the feoffees of Buckley's +Hospital (a fifteenth-century foundation here), and whatever a +feoffee <span class="pagenum"><a name="page237" id= +"page237"></a>[pg 237]</span> may be he is not the kind of man to +toy with in a small town like this.</p> +<p>I forgot to mention that there is an inn on the left of the +picture, and a girl coming out of it carrying, perhaps, a bran-mash +for the horse or some Government dope for the man, and there are +some hens, all fully regardant and expectant, at her feet.</p> +<p>Hoping to hear in the course of a post or two that you have +found the painting,</p> +<p>I am, Yours anxiously,</p> +<p>THEOPHILUS B. PIPER-CARY.</p> +<p>P.S.—Don't forget there's a cow in the background; a red +cow.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Three days later I received a picture (not mine) from the +Gallery with this letter:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>DEAR SIR,—After a most exhaustive search we have found and +send herewith what we believe to be your picture, though it does +not quite answer to your description. It is, however, the only one +of which we do not appear to have any record.</p> +<p>Our Mr. Langford seems likely to be abroad for some months, so +unless you will accept this picture in settlement of the matter we +do not see any present way out of the difficulty.</p> +<p>Confident that, if it is not yours, it is at least just as good, +we trust that you will agree to cry quits.</p> +<p>We are, Yours obediently,</p> +<p><i>pp.</i> THE FERNDALE GALLERY.</p> +<p>J.S.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Why they should feel sure it was just as good, unless they +remembered my picture, wasn't very clear, but evidently the receipt +had put the wind up them, and I wrote and accepted the substitute +at once, because Panmore liked it better even than the original +picture. He said it was an Alken and gave me far more than I would +have thought of asking for it, or for the original one.</p> +<p>About a week after selling it I received this wire from the +Gallery:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Please return painting sent in error. Very valuable Alken. Have +customer.</p> +<p>FERNDALE.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>"Diamond cut diamond," I said to myself. And I replied +thus:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>DEAR SIRS,—I received your wire, but regret that I cannot +comply with your request. Firstly, because I have already accepted +the picture which you regarded as mine or its equivalent, in place +of the one that was mine and is now yours; and, secondly, because +my friend the feoffee has already bought it, the one that was yours +and is now mine, or rather his (you know what I mean, don't you?), +and I haven't the heart to ask him to return it.</p> +<p>Perhaps yours (the one that is now yours and was mine before), +being the equivalent of the one that was yours and is now mine (or +rather the feoffee's), would suit your client. I can only suggest +your having another look for it; the matter so far as I am +concerned is at an end. Yours faithfully,</p> +<p>THEOPHILUS B. PIPER-CARY.</p> +<p>P.S.—You'll know it when you find it. There's a red cow in +the background.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"Sentence of Mike Ancon, found guilty of housekeeping, was +postponed yesterday afternoon."—<i>Manitoba Free +Press.</i></p> +</blockquote> +<p>This species of crime is almost extinct in England.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href= +"images/237.png"><img width="100%" src="images/237.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<h3>THE "HESITATION" WALTZ.</h3> +</div> +<hr /> +<h4>The Rising Egg.</h4> +<p>Whatever may be the decline in the price of eggs their social +movement is clearly upwards. The following passage from <i>The +Croydon Advertiser</i> gives an admirable life-history of the egg, +from shell to profit-sharing:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"Eggs will be dated and graded and sold accordingly, and as soon +as they have done laying fattened for table purposes, also young +cockerels. They will be killed and plucked, and the feathers will +be sorted and sold in the best markets. So you see they will +receive full market price for their produce; then if they are +shareholders they will receive a further profit in the difference +between the cost and the selling, also the very big amounts +received for the skins and the feathers."</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page238" id="page238"></a>[pg +238]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/238.png"><img width="100%" src="images/238.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<h3>HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL.</h3> +<p><i>Oldest Inhabitant.</i> "I NEVER EXPECTED TO LIVE TILL THE END +OF THE WAR, MA'AM; BUT NOW I'M HOPING TO BE SPARED TO SEE THE +BEGINNING OF THE NEXT ONE."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>CHOICE BOOKS OF THE WEEK.</h3> +<hr class="short" /> +<p class="center">THE NEW PARIS SKETCH-BOOK;<br /> +OR, THE FIRST FIFTY THOUSAND.<br /> +<br /> +By GLADYS FLAPPERTON, O.B.E.,<br /> +Author of <i>Peace and Plenty of It.</i></p> +<p>This charming volume describes in detail the delightful Parisian +holiday which has been provided by the Government under the best +possible conditions for young ladies with (and without) a knowledge +of typewriting.</p> +<hr /> +<p class="center"><i>TIGER LILY,<br /> +A POEM IN FOURTEEN SPASMS.</i><br /> +<br /> +By WOODROW WILSON.<br /> +<br /> +Affectionately dedicated to M. CLEMENCEAU.</p> +<hr /> +<p class="center">THE HISTORY OF FREDERICK THE GREAT.<br /> +<br /> +BY HAROLD SMITH, M.P.<br /> +<br /> +("England's Harold.")<br /> +<br /> +With an Introduction by the<br /> +LORD CHANCELLOR.</p> +<hr /> +<p class="center">O SMILLIE, WE HAVE MISSED YOU,<br /> +AND OTHER LYRICS.<br /> +<br /> +Highly recommended by Messrs. MUDIE and<br /> +SANKEY (the Author).<br /> +<br /> +Copies of this beautiful work have been<br /> +accepted by several mining royalties.</p> +<hr /> +<p class="center">THE GEDDES BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY.<br /> +<br /> +Publication of the Second Volume (AUC—ERIC).</p> +<p>It is hoped to complete in twelve handsome volumes this the +first attempt to record and codify the achievements and services of +the GEDDES family in the Great War.</p> +<hr /> +<p class="center">WASTEWARD HO!<br /> +<br /> +A ROMANCE OF CIPPENHAM.<br /> +<br /> +With an Introductory Apologia by<br /> +Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>THE NEXT WAR.</h3> +<blockquote class="note"> +<p>["As the result of a conference called by the War Office it has +been decided to wage a war of annihilation against the warble-fly. +It is hoped that by means of concerted action through the country +this pestilent insect, so injurious to the hides of horses and +cattle, may be completely stamped out."—<i>Daily +Paper.</i>]</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The warble-fly, the warble-fly</p> +<p>Is absolutely doomed to die.</p> +<p>They've summoned all the General Staff,</p> +<p>There's going to be a mighty "strafe,"</p> +<p>And soon the land from shore to shore</p> +<p>Will echo with the din of war,</p> +<p>As arméd hosts with martial cries</p> +<p>Descend upon the warble-flies.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>We've got the shells, we've got the guns</p> +<p>(The same that overwhelmed the Huns),</p> +<p>And, what is more, we've got the Man;</p> +<p>With WINSTON riding in the van</p> +<p>I do not think there's any doubt</p> +<p>That we shall put the foe to rout,</p> +<p>And, scorning peace by compromise,</p> +<p>Annihilate the warble-flies.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>In tranquil peace the gentle beeves</p> +<p>Shall chew their cud through summer eves;</p> +<p>No more shall that alarming warble</p> +<p>Affright the calm of heifer or bull,</p> +<p>And send them snorting round the croft</p> +<p>With eyes of fear and tails aloft.</p> +<p>Till every warble-fly be floored</p> +<p>Whitehall will <i>never</i> sheathe the sword.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h4>The Growth of Impropriety.</h4> +<blockquote> +<p>"Her hair is always exquisitely dressed, and her shoes in +perfect shape. No more in the way of dress is required of any +woman."</p> +<p><i>Daily Mirror.</i></p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"PROPOSED IMPROVEMENT OF A DANGEROUS CORONER."<br /> +<i>Headline in Provincial Paper.</i></p> +</blockquote> +<p>The best plan, possibly, would be to get the jury to sit on +him.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page239" id="page239"></a>[pg +239]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/239.png"><img width="100%" src="images/239.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<h3>NEWSPAPER HEADINGS POPULARLY ILLUSTRATED.</h3> +"INFLUENZA MICROBE DISCOVERED AT A LONDON HOSPITAL."</div> +<hr /> +<h2>MRS. BLOGGINS'S STATEMENT.</h2> +<p>It is not too much to say that bed-making circles in Cambridge +have been agitated to their utmost depths by the recent advent of +some hundreds of American youths who have come to pursue certain +courses of study within the University walls. Let us make one thing +perfectly clear. Bed-makers do not object to Americans as +Americans, but this avalanche of Transatlantics arrives on the very +eve of the vacation, just when the bed-makers are packing off the +contingent of young Naval officers who have been making things hum +during the past term.</p> +<p>Persuaded that their too-brief holidays will be entirely +absorbed in attending to the Americans, the bed-makers urge with +some justice that they too are entitled to enjoy the beautiful +things of this enchanting world quite as much as miners and +railway-men. We understand that meetings of their Association are +being held, and that the University authorities are faced by a +situation which is rapidly passing beyond their control. Bed-makers +are amongst the most loyal members of the community, but they feel, +as a prominent member of the profession put it, that "the last +camel breaks the straw's back," and they are determined to uphold +their immemorial rights.</p> +<p>We have thought it our duty therefore to interview the +celebrated Mrs. Bloggins, the <i>doyenne</i> of the Corps of +Bed-makers of Trinity College. We found the lady in her home in +Paradise Walk, where she was engaged in eating some excellent +buttered toast. We lost no time in explaining the purport of our +visit.</p> +<p>"We desire to know, Mrs. Bloggins," we began, "what your +feelings are with regard to the Americans."</p> +<p>"Ah," said Mrs. Bloggins, speaking with deep emotion, "you may +well call 'em Americans, for I've never bin so troubled about +anythink before. Some people seem to git the notion into their +'eads that bed-makers do no work. Why we're arst to slave from +mornin' till night, and our pay is paltry. Things in Cambridge +isn't like what they was. Time was when our young gentlemen used to +'ave big dinners in their rooms, and a careful bed-maker could save +a bone or two. Nowadays they,'re only cheese-parers, that's what I +call 'em. You won't believe me, I know, but my mother, who was a +bed-maker afore me, used to 'ave a month at the seaside every year, +all paid for out of money give to 'er by 'er young gentlemen. To be +sure there was a wrangler, or somethink of that kind, who didn't +come up to the mark, so she soon got rid of 'im; 'e used to find +'is butter was took by the cat, and accidents of that kind.</p> +<p>"Mind yer," she continued, "I ain't got nothink to say against +the Americans. They may be the most liberal-'earted gentlemen in +the world for all I know. But it's the principle of the thing I'm +objectin' to. It's a case of kill me quick or cure me to-morrow, +and if President WILSON was to talk till next week 'e couldn't make +it no different. You can't make a silk sock out of a side of bacon, +and that's true whichever way you look at it."</p> +<p>"But what steps," we urged, "does your Association intend to +take, Mrs. Bloggins, over this matter?"</p> +<p>"I don't know nothink about no 'sociations," said Mrs. Bloggins, +"but I do know that we're all in it, and Mrs. Pledger and Mrs. +'Uggins, and the rest of 'em, we knows our power and we intends to +use it."</p> +<p>"In what way do you mean?" I said.</p> +<p>She looked at me cunningly.</p> +<p>"Now you're spyin'. It's dirty work and I won't 'ave it 'ere. +You might be the Proctor hisself for all I cares—you're not +going to ferret nothink out of me."</p> +<p>Hereupon she rose with great dignity and plainly indicated that +the interview was at an end.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<h4>La Haute Cuisine.</h4> +<p>"Cook; French; age 38; wages £25-£30 +week."—<i>Morning Post.</i></p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page240" id="page240"></a>[pg +240]</span> +<h2>TO THE DEATH.</h2> +<blockquote class="note"> +<p>[According to the papers, two Frenchmen have agreed to fight a +duel in aeroplanes.]</p> +</blockquote> +<p>"Cauliflower!" shrieked Gaspard Volauvent across the little +table in the <i>estaminet</i>. His face bristled with rage.</p> +<p>"Serpent!" replied Jacques Rissolo, bristling with equal +dexterity.</p> +<p>The two stout little men glared ferociously at each other. Then +Jacques picked up his glass and poured the wine of the country over +his friend's head.</p> +<p>"Drown, serpent!" he said magnificently. He beckoned to the +waiter. "Another bottle," he said. "My friend has drunk all +this."</p> +<p>Gaspard removed the wine from his whiskers with the local paper +and leant over the table towards Jacques.</p> +<p>"This must be wiped out in blood," he said slowly. "You +understand?"</p> +<p>"Perfectly," replied the other. "The only question is +whose."</p> +<p>"Name your weapons," said Gaspard Volauvent grandly.</p> +<p>"Aeroplanes," replied Jacques Rissole after a moment's +thought.</p> +<p>"Bah! I cannot fly."</p> +<p>"Then I win," said Jacques simply.</p> +<p>The other looked at him in astonishment.</p> +<p>"What! You fly?"</p> +<p>"No; but I can learn."</p> +<p>"Then I will learn too," said Gaspard with dignity. "We +meet—in six months?"</p> +<p>"Good." Jacques pointed to the ceiling. "Say three thousand feet +up."</p> +<p>"Three thousand four hundred," said Gaspard for the sake of +disagreeing.</p> +<p>"After all, that is for our seconds to arrange. My friend +Épinard of the Roullens Aerodrome will act for me. He will +also instruct me how to bring serpents to the ground."</p> +<p>"With the idea of cleansing the sky of cauliflowers," said +Gaspard, "I shall proceed to the flying-ground at Dormancourt; +Blanchaille, the instructor there, will receive your friend."</p> +<p>He bowed and walked out.</p> +<p>Details were soon settled. On a date six months ahead the two +combatants would meet three thousand two hundred feet above the +little town in which they lived, and fight to the death. In the +event of both crashing, the one who crashed last would be deemed +the victor. It was Gaspard's second who insisted on this clause; +Gaspard himself felt that it did not matter.</p> +<p>The first month of instruction went by. At the end of it Jacques +Rissole had only one hope. It was that when he crashed he should +crash on some of Gaspard's family. Gaspard had no hope, but one +consolation. It was that no crash could involve his stomach, which +he invariably left behind him as soon as the aeroplane rose.</p> +<p>At the end of the second month Gaspard wrote to Jacques.</p> +<p>"My friend," he wrote, "the hatred of you which I nurse in my +bosom, and which fills me with the desire to purge you from the +sky, is in danger of being transferred to my instructor. Let us +therefore meet and renew our enmity."</p> +<p>Jacques Rissole wrote back to Gaspard.</p> +<p>"My enemy," he wrote, "there is nobody in the whole of the +Roullens aerodrome whom I do not detest with a detestation beside +which my hatred for you seems as maudlin adoration. This is +notwithstanding the fact that I make the most marvellous progress +in the art of flying. It is merely something in their faces which +annoys me. Let me therefore see yours again, in the hope that it +will make me think more kindly of theirs."</p> +<p>They met, poured wine over each other and parted. After another +month the need of a further stimulant was felt. They met again, and +agreed to insult each other weekly.</p> +<p>On the last day of his training Gaspard spoke seriously to his +instructor.</p> +<p>"You see that I make nothing of it," he said. "My thoughts are +ever with the stomach that I leave behind. Not once have I been in +a position to take control. How then can I fight? My friend, I +arrange it all. You shall take my place."</p> +<p>"Is that quite fair to Rissole?" asked Blanchaille +doubtfully.</p> +<p>"Do not think that I want you to hurt him. That is not +necessary. He will hurt himself. Keep out of his way until he has +finished with himself, and then fly back here. It is easy."</p> +<p>It seemed the best way; indeed the only way. Gaspard Volauvent +could never get to the <i>rendezvous</i> alone, and it would be +fatal to his honour if Jacques arrived there and found nobody to +meet him. Reluctantly Blanchaille agreed.</p> +<p>At the appointed hour Gaspard put his head cautiously out of his +bedroom window and gazed up into the heavens. He saw two aeroplanes +straight above him. At the thought that he might have been in one +of them he shuddered violently. Indeed he felt so unwell that the +need for some slight restorative became pressing. He tripped off to +the <i>estaminet</i>.</p> +<p>It was empty save for one table. Gaspard walked towards it, +hoping for a little conversation. The occupant lowered the +newspaper from in front of his face and looked up.</p> +<p>It was too much for Gaspard.</p> +<p>"Coward!" he shrieked.</p> +<p>Jacques, who had been just going to say the same thing, hastily +substituted "Serpent!"</p> +<p>"I know you," cried Gaspard. "You send your instructor up in +your place. Poltroon!"</p> +<p>Jacques picked up his glass and poured the wine of the country +over his friend's head.</p> +<p>"Drown, serpent," he said magnificently. He beckoned to the +waiter. "Another bottle," he said. "My friend has drunk all +this."</p> +<p>Gaspard removed the wine from his whiskers with Jacques' paper +and leant over him.</p> +<p>"This must be wiped out in blood," he said slowly. "Name your +weapons."</p> +<p>"Submarines," said Jacques after a moment's thought.</p> +<p>A.A.M.</p> +<hr /> +<h2>THE SWANS OF YPRES.</h2> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Ypres was once a weaving town,</p> +<p>Where merchants jostled up and down</p> +<p class="i2">And merry shuttles used to ply;</p> +<p>On the looms the fleeces were</p> +<p>Brought from the mart at Winchester,</p> +<p class="i2">And silver flax from Burgundy.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Who is weaving there to-night?</p> +<p>Only the moon, whose shuttle white</p> +<p class="i2">Makes silver warp on dyke and pond;</p> +<p>Her hands fling veils of lily-woof</p> +<p>On riven spire and open roof</p> +<p class="i2">And on the haggard marsh beyond.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>No happy ghosts or fairies haunt</p> +<p>The ancient city, huddling gaunt,</p> +<p class="i2">Where waggons crawl with anxious wheel</p> +<p>And o'er the marshland desolate</p> +<p>Win slowly to the battered gate</p> +<p class="i2">That Flemings call the Gate of Lille.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Yet by some wonder it befalls</p> +<p>That, where the lonely outer walls</p> +<p class="i2">Brood in the silent pool below,</p> +<p>Among the sedges of the moat,</p> +<p>Like lilies furled, the two swans float;</p> +<p class="i2">"The Swans of Ypres" men call them now.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>They have heard guns and many men</p> +<p>Come and depart and come again,</p> +<p class="i2">They have seen strange disastrous things,</p> +<p>When fire and fume rolled o'er their nest;</p> +<p>But changeless and aloof they rest,</p> +<p class="i2">The Swans of Ypres, with folded wings.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"Will Treasury notes ever be displaced by boxes of chocolates? +"—<i>Daily Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Certainly. Ours often are.</p> +<hr /> +<p>From the report of the Committee on the Staffing of Government +Offices we gather that there has been a good deal of +overflapping.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page241" id="page241"></a>[pg +241]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> +<h3>TRANSPORT FACILITIES.</h3> +<a href="images/241-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/241-1.png" +alt="" /></a><b>"VOILA! UN AUTO!"</b><a href= +"images/241-2.png"><img width="100%" src="images/241-2.png" alt= +"" /></a><b>"DEUX, SEULEMENT!"</b><a href= +"images/241-3.png"><img width="100%" src="images/241-3.png" alt= +"" /></a><b>"MERCI, M'SIEU."</b></div> +<hr /> +<hr class="full" /> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page242" id="page242"></a>[pg +242]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/242.png"><img width="100%" src="images/242.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Mistress.</i> "OH, JANE, HOW DID YOU DO +THAT?" <i>Maid.</i> "I'M VERY SORRY, MUM; I +WAS ACCIDENTALLY DUSTING."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>THE SCHLOSS BILLET.</h2> +<p>We had not expected much of a billet in a defeated and starving +country; that was probably why everybody was enthusiastic over +it—at first. I, as billeting officer, was especially proud of +having discovered it. The very thing for Brigade +Headquarters—secluded, dignified, commanding and +spacious.</p> +<p>A couple of kilos from the gates through the drive brings you to +the Schloss. Entering a hall about the size of a modern theatre you +journey to the ante-room, a vast apartment, which for space +compares favourably with the Coliseum at Rome. A world-exhibition +of pictures and tapestries covers the walls of the Schloss, while +an acre or two of painted ceiling shows the chief events of German +history, from the Creation to the Franco-Prussian War.</p> +<p>In the Dining-room, reached by a progress over carpets and rugs +representative of all the best periods of Oriental art, it would be +fairly easy to stage a review on the table itself; while in the +Music-room a hundred or so lorries could be parked without +attracting observation too glaringly. Should the need arise, the +Library could accommodate a battalion on parade, a rifle range or +sufficient office room for Q branch of a division. A labyrinth of +corridors and servants' bedrooms harbours the rank and file, and it +is said that the number of kitchens, pantries and cellars in the +north and east wings runs into three figures.</p> +<p>The Divisional Commander called it "homely"; the Corps Commander +remarked that its style was "not cramped, anyhow—what?" and +the Army Commander pronounced it very "cosy."</p> +<p>The first two days I did not see my servant at all. On Wednesday +he turned up just before lunch. On Monday and Tuesday, he +explained, he had wandered through corridors and passages trying to +find my room, and, by rising an hour before <i>reveille</i>, he +thought he would be able to get from his quarters to mine by about +breakfast-time.</p> +<p>We used to adjourn to the billiard-room after dinner, but gave +it up because it was necessary to stop play at half-past ten in +order to be in bed by midnight. Signals is worried because he has +not enough line left to reach Battalions, all available supplies +having been used up in connecting the General's room with various +parts of the Schloss. We are continually late for dinner owing to +errors in judging the distances from one room to another. Our once +happy family has dissolved into silent morose individuals, for we +have grown strange and distant to one another. Liaison between +departments has broken down, and the Staff-Captain whom I saw +yesterday in the distance is suffering from premature decay.</p> +<p>But a solution has been found, for the Engineers are unloading a +couple of Nissen huts to put up in the hall, and we shall soon be a +united family once more.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"The surveyor said that as things were at present he had little +or no authority over the men who, for the most part, simply +considered him his equal."—<i>Trade Paper.</i></p> +</blockquote> +<p>If he doesn't take a stronger line the men will consider him his +inferior.</p> +<hr /> +<p>From a short story:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"She was a slip of a thing, with the sort of eyes that go well +with curly long lashes—if they are blue, as hers +were."—<i>Weekly Paper.</i></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Our local <i>coiffeur</i> only stocks the old-fashioned +peroxide.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page243" id="page243"></a>[pg +243]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/243.png"><img width="100%" src="images/243.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<h3>OVERWEIGHTED.</h3> +<p>President Wilson. "HERE'S YOUR OLIVE BRANCH. NOW GET BUSY."</p> +<p>Dove of Peace. "OF COURSE I WANT TO PLEASE EVERYBODY; BUT ISN'T +THIS A BIT THICK?"</p> +</div> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page245" id="page245"></a>[pg +245]</span><h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT</h2> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> +<a href="images/245.png"><img width="100%" src="images/245.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p class="center"><b>THE STRENUOUS LIFE.</b></p> +<p>BEFORE TAKING OFFICE ALL MEMBERS IN FUTURE WILL HAVE TO PASS A +TEST OF THEIR ABILITY TO SUSTAIN A PROLONGED FLIGHT, FIVE THOUSAND +FEET UP, AT A HUNDRED-AND-SEVENTY MILES AN HOUR.</p></div> +<hr /> +<p><i>Monday, March 17th</i>.—Mr. GEORGE TERRELL, always a +little inclined to look upon the black side of things, was +apprehensive about the spread of Bolshevism in this country. Not so +Lord HENRY BENTINCK, who genially exploded with "Is not Bolshevism +in this country a pure bogey?" Not quite that, perhaps; but I +gathered that in Mr. BONAR LAW'S opinion it hasn't a ghost of a +chance.</p> +<p>Great cheers from the Wee Frees greeted the advent of Mr. A.E. +NEWBOULD, the victor of West Leyton, whose defeat of the Coalition +candidate has increased the size of their party by something like +four per cent. As the new Member is understood to be connected with +the film business his colleagues are hoping that they will soon +have Ministers on the "movies."</p> +<p>We know on high authority that evil communications corrupt good +manners. Sir ERIC GEDDES goes further and believes that they +corrupt everything. That was the text of his capital speech on the +second reading of the Transportation Bill. Dispensing on this +occasion with his usual typescript, he discoursed at large for an +hour and a-half on the paralytic condition of our railways, roads, +canals and docks.</p> +<p>We all had our pleasant morning dreams, he said, but they +usually disappeared after we had had our cold bath; and the +country, which was no longer rich, but poor, must take its douche. +His own dream is of a beautifully centralised control, directing +all our traffic agencies (save tramways and shipping) into the most +convenient channels; and he won't be happy till he gets it. But +judging by some of the speeches that followed he too may have a +frigid disillusionment when the Bill comes up against the +"interests" in Committee. Mr. T.P. O'CONNOR, on behalf of +Liverpool, described it as the product of "an old bureaucracy and a +young Parliamentarian," and Mr. RENWICK declared that, if it +passed, the Manchester Ship Canal would be "between the devil and +the deep sea," surely an uncalled-for attack on Cottonopolis.</p> +<p>Upon the adjournment, Col. CLAUDE LOWTHER again raised the +question of the payment of German indemnities, and Mr. BONAR LAW +again declared that the policy of the Government was to demand the +largest amount that Germany could pay, but not to demand what we +knew she couldn't pay. It would have saved him a lot of trouble if +at the General Election the Government spokesmen had insisted as +much upon the second half of the policy as they did upon the +first.</p> +<p><i>Tuesday, March 18th</i>.—GILBERT'S fanciful description +of the "most susceptible Chancellor" is justified by the way in +which the present occupant of the Woolsack and his predecessors vie +with one another in the endeavour to secure the favour of the fair +sex. Today it was Lord HALDANE'S turn to oblige, and he brought in +a Bill to enable Scotswomen to become Advocates and Law Agents. +Lord HALSBURY'S contribution to the work of feminine emancipation +has not yet been announced. The rumour that a deputation of ladies +recently approached him with a proposal that they should be +eligible for judicial office—"Scarlet and ermine are +<i>so</i> becoming"—and that he put them off with the old +joke about there being "enough old women on the Bench already" is, +of course, apocryphal.</p> +<p>Not infrequently in the official reports of the Lords' debates a +speech begins thus: "Lord —— (<i>who was indistinctly +heard</i>)." The Commons' report might well adopt this salutary +practice as a warning to Members who persistently mumble, or who +address their remarks to the body of the House instead of to the +SPEAKER. Ministers are the worst offenders. One of them was asked +this afternoon, for example, whether the Judicial Adviser to the +SULTAN had discouraged the use of the English language in the +Egyptian Courts, but all we could hear of the <i>sotto voce</i> +conversation between him and his interrogator was that +"er—er—language—er—had—been—er—er—misunderstood."</p> +<p>Some savages, travellers tell us, are unable to count beyond +five. Some Ministers, on the other hand, show an inability to +reckon except in millions. Mr. CHURCHILL, when asked how many +soldiers were not receiving the recent increase of pay, remarked +casually that the numbers were "not so very +great—half-a-million would cover them." Happily these "sloppy +statistics" (to recall a phrase used by Mr. ASQUITH <span class= +"pagenum"><a name="page246" id="page246"></a>[pg 246]</span> during +the Tariff Reform controversy) do not appeal to the +FOOD-CONTROLLER. He, being invited to say whether the Government +had made "approximately £2,400,000" by the charge on +cattle-sales, replied that the amount was "approximately" +£3,449,939; and we felt that he was cut to the heart at not +being able to give the odd shillings and pence.</p> +<p>The renewed debate on the Transportation Bill revealed a good +deal of opposition. Roadmen thought it an excellent project for +railways; railwayman were all in favour of its being applied to +docks; and dockmen had no objection to its being tried on the +roads. But none of them wanted it for his own particular interest. +Sir EDWARD CARSON'S objections were both particular and general. +Belfast would be ruined if its port were controlled by "a nest of +politicians" in Dublin, but apart from that he doubted whether the +promised economies would be realised in any direction. Ministers +were "gluttons for centralisation," and would, he prophesied, incur +the usual fate of gluttons, acute indigestion.</p> +<p>Mr. BONAR LAW, while admitting that he himself would not have +voted for the Bill five years ago, declared that the War had made +it essential. That seemed to be the general opinion, for the second +reading was agreed to without a division.</p> +<div class="figright" style="width:35%;"><a href= +"images/246.png"><img width="100%" src="images/246.png" alt= +"" /></a>THE CROWN OF OLD KING COAL.<br /> +Trying It On.</div> +<p><i>Wednesday, March 19th</i>.—Lord MALMESBURY, who has +lately been the victim of a burglary, attributed it to +housebreakers having been demobilised before policemen. Whether +this was done on the ground that they conducted "one man +businesses," or because someone in Whitehall assumed that the +wielders of the centre-bit must be "pivotal," I do not know, but an +Army Order requiring Commanding Officers to keep the balance even +between criminals and coppers seems to be urgently needed.</p> +<p>The Bishops were delighted to hear from Lord ERNLE that his +department includes a Hop-Controller, and are going to ask him to +turn his attention to the Jazz.</p> +<p>Museums could not be opened just yet, said Lord STANMORE, +because some eight thousand officials of various departments were +at present lodged in these buildings. To judge by the comments of +the public Press, there are several hundreds more who ought to be +kept there.</p> +<p><i>Thursday, March 20th</i>.—Lord WINTERTON wanted to know +what the Government was doing to counteract Mr. BERNARD SHAW'S +alleged anti-British propaganda in the United States. Mr. CECIL +HARMSWORTH thought Professor OMAN'S recent memorandum would prove a +sufficient counterblast. He had, however, no objection to adding +Mr. SHAW'S latest pamphlet to "the large budget of Shavian +literature" already at the Foreign Office, where, it is said, the +clerks on night-duty like to beguile their leisure with light +fiction.</p> +<p>Late in the evening Mr. BONAR LAW announced the intentions of +the Government with regard to the coal industry. It would adopt Mr. +Justice SANKEY'S report, giving the men a large portion of their +demands. If the miners still persisted in striking—well, the +State would strike too, with all its might; otherwise there was an +end of government in this country. The cheers which greeted this +statement seriously annoyed Mr. JACK JONES, who sits for +Silvertown, and maintains the explosive reputation of his +constituency.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>THE CROSSING-SWEEPER.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Five years ago he swept the snow,</p> +<p>Or the mud, or the dust or the leaves that blow,</p> +<p class="i2">Or stood at the corner "dossing";</p> +<p>Picking up rubbish and dangerous rind</p> +<p>That careless people had left behind,</p> +<p class="i6">He swept the crossing.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And still he sweeps and clears the way</p> +<p>In blizzard and mist and soaking spray,</p> +<p class="i2">Out on the Channel tossing;</p> +<p>Picking up mines of a devilish kind</p> +<p>That unscrupulous people have left behind,</p> +<p class="i6">He sweeps the crossing.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"COAL STRIKE POPSTONED."<br /> +<i>Provincial Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Much the best thing to do with it.</p> +<hr /> +<h2>DRAMATISTS TO THE RESCUE.</h2> +<p>In view of the theory developed by the Ministry of +Reconstruction's Sub-Committee on Organisation and Conditions of +Domestic Service, that "the attitude adopted by the Press and the +Stage is usually an unfortunate one, as servants are frequently +represented as comic or flippant characters, and are held up to +ridicule," a meeting of our leading dramatists was hastily convened +last evening by Lady HEADFORT (who, it will be remembered, is all +for calling her maids "Home-birds") to engage their sympathetic +co-operation in aid of mistresses, housekeepers and employers +generally. What the stage has taken away the stage must give back: +that is Lady HEADFORT'S contention. Not that the domestic problem +will even then be settled; there will probably still be difficulty +in persuading W.A.A.C.s and Land Women and Munitioners who have +tasted blood to descend below stairs again; but perhaps a little +help will be forthcoming. Hence this influential gathering.</p> +<p>Sir SQUIRE BANCROFT, who presided, said that the domestic +problem was one of great seriousness. Personally he rarely +descended to the servants' hall, but he did not pretend to be +unaware of the usefulness of such regions and of our dependence +upon them. There must be give and take. If the stage had been +guilty of too much levity in its portraiture of domestic servants, +then, in the interests of all of us, it must make what our lively +neighbours call the <i>amende honorable</i>.</p> +<p>Sir JAMES BARRIE said that no one could hold him personally to +blame. His plays had always exhibited domestic servants in a most +favourable light. Not only was a butler the hero of <i>The +Admirable Crichton</i>, a maidservant the heroine of <i>A Kiss for +Cinderella</i> and a charwoman the heroine of <i>The Old Lady Shows +Her Medals</i>, but the actual authorship of <i>Peter Pan</i> was +given to the smallest nursemaid on record.</p> +<p>Mr. SOMERSET MAUGHAM also claimed to be on the side of the +home-birds. Had he not in <i>Smith</i> written a part of strong +parlour-maid interest for Miss MARIE LÖHR?</p> +<p>Mr. G.B. SHAW said that there was no need for the meeting at +all, because he was just putting the finishing touches to a witty +drama which would settle the whole question. In this play, which, +he could tell them on the best authority in the world, his own, was +a work of surpassing genius, the Irish Question, which had baffled +statesmen and philosophers for centuries, is settled once and for +all by the wisdom and presence of mind of a Kerry kitchenmaid.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page247" id="page247"></a>[pg +247]</span><p>The Chairman said that perhaps the meeting might as +well proceed with its discussion, since there was always the +possibility that the run of Mr. SHAW'S play might not equal that of +his last, which, he understood, had just been produced in New York +and had come off almost at once.</p> +<p>Mr. HENRY ARTHUR JONES said that if any branch of art could +effect social transformations it was the drama. Personally he +looked upon the stage as only one degree less powerful than the +Senate and vastly more serious than the Church. Its first duty was +to instruct, elevate and reform; to amuse was never its true +function. Hence, if the dramatists of the country cared to take up +the task of remedying the servant shortage, the matter would be +quickly settled. But only, added the speaker with extreme gravity, +if the authors of the pernicious rubbish known as <i>revue</i> were +first gagged and bound.</p> +<p>Mr. MAX PEMBERTON said that, although he had given up +<i>revue</i> writing in favour of transforming farcical plays, he +felt that he might make an appeal to the authors of <i>revue</i> +(who often exceeded the audience in number) to join in this very +laudable campaign. Speaking as one of the two-and-twenty +Hippodromios, although no longer in that capacity, he would appeal +to his successors to paint life below stairs in such resplendent +hues that the desire instantly to take service would be implanted +in every female bosom.</p> +<p>Mr. ALFRED SUTRO, speaking at the moment not so much as a +dramatist as a man without a cook, said that he agreed heartily +with the sentiments of the gentleman who had just sat down.</p> +<p>Sir ARTHUR WING PINERO said that he was always willing to help +worthy causes and was as ready to write a play for the object in +view as, not long since, he had been to write one to encourage +economy. But it was useless unless the company chosen would +co-operate. The dramatist did not stand alone. So long as the +ordinary stage idea of a parlourmaid was a saucy nymph with a +feather brush and very short skirts, so long would dramatists +strive in vain to exalt her calling. He was prepared to do his +best, but feared that the actors' traditions would prove too +strong.</p> +<p>Mr. WALTER MELVILLE said that he hoped nothing would be done to +tamper with such traditions as Sir ARTHUR complained of. It was the +duty of a stage servant to begin plays and to be funny. The curtain +of a farce should rise on a butler and a parlourmaid remarking on +the fact that master was suspiciously late last night; and the +butler should be amorous, bibulous and peculative, and the +parlourmaid coy and trim. Similarly, footmen should be haughty and +drop their aitches, cooks short-tempered, red and fat, and +office-boys knowing and cheeky. The public expected it, and the +public ought to have it because the public paid.</p> +<p>There being no further remarks, the meeting dispersed, the +various speakers returning sadly home to perform the household +duties.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"EX-KAISER TO PAP THE PENALTY."<br /> +<i>Sunday Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>We always feared he would get off with a soft punishment.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href= +"images/247.png"><img width="100%" src="images/247.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Docker (by way of concluding a heated argument with +Scotsman).</i> "WELL, GO UP THERE, THEN, AN' TALK TO YOUR BLINKIN' +SCOTCH PALS."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<h4>Our Popular Guides.</h4> +<p>"HOW INFLUENZA MAY BE SPREAD."<br /> +<i>Headline in a Daily Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<p>A correspondent writes: "It may interest you to know that I +recently received the following statement from a provincial branch +of a floor-cloth company:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>'Owing to some of the principal ingredients used in the +manufacture of floor coverings having been taken over by the +Ministry of Food, the price of the material is again advanced.'</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Have you noticed it at all in your soup?"</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page248" id="page248"></a>[pg +248]</span> +<h2>THE HOUSE-HUNTER</h2> +<p>Unless something is done for Higgins without delay the nation +must prepare to face a tremendous rise in the rate of mortality +among house-agents.</p> +<p>Soon after he came back from the War he began to adopt a +threatening attitude (as the police-court witnesses say) towards +these gentlemen. Recently he has gone beyond the threatening stage. +If rumour can be trusted, he has thrown at least six of them +through their office windows. He has taken a dislike to the whole +tribe. They are, in his opinion, a gang of criminals for whom no +punishment could be too severe, because they impose upon the public +in general and Higgins in particular, by continuing in business as +if they were in a position to let houses when, as a matter of fact, +there are no houses for them to let.</p> +<p>Higgins wants a house. Yes, incredible though it may sound, this +man, who for years has been content to dwell in a dug-out or +consort with creeping things in the confines of a canvas tent, and +even on occasion make his bed beneath the starry dome of heaven, +with nothing in between, has now developed a craving for a +residence built of bricks and mortar.</p> +<p>What is more, he expects the house-agents to find it for him, +and, since he considers the whole thing from the purely personal +point of view, their excuses for failing to do so are of no avail. +The fact that half a million other people want houses is nothing to +him. He ignores it. He believes that the house-agentry of the +country has hatched a gigantic conspiracy to keep him, Higgins, out +of a home.</p> +<p>I have done <i>my</i> best to put him out of his misery. After +seeing the poor wretch wear himself (and his boots) out in useless +journeying to and from the places where house-agents pretend to +work I thought of a scheme—not strictly original—for +obtaining a house and presented it to him without hope of +reward.</p> +<p>"You are committing and error," I said.</p> +<p>"I shall commit a murder in a minute," he growled but, knowing +what he had suffered, I took no notice of the threat.</p> +<p>"Listen," I said; "all the habitable houses in England are +occupied and it will be years before the new ones are built. The +painting of "TO LET" boards has become a lost art. You are wasting +your time in looking for an <i>empty</i> dwelling. Take my advice. +Choose one that is occupied, any one you fancy, and empty it."</p> +<p>At this point he interpolated an offensive expression with which +I was not familiar before I joined the army, but I overlooked that +also.</p> +<p>"You think it is impossible, but you are wrong," I told him. +"This scheme is bound to succeed. All you have to do is to haunt +the house. You do not eject the tenant yourself. You conjure up a +ghost to do it for you."</p> +<p>"The devil!"</p> +<p>"No—not necessarily. An ordinary ghost will do."</p> +<p>"But, my dear good fool, how in Hades or out of it can I produce +a ghost?"</p> +<p>"Easily. By <i>suggestion</i>. That is the secret. This is an +age of suggestion. Doctors are curing patients by suggestion. +Politicians hypnotise the public by suggestion. And you can +frighten the present occupants out of your chosen home by +suggestion. No real ghost is required. Having selected the house +you pay a call and lay ground-bait, so to speak. You tell the +tenant you are interested in the place because you happen to know +that at one time it was haunted. You relate a gruesome tale of some +mysterious tragedy that you say has occurred there, and generally +make your victim's flesh creep.</p> +<p>"He or she, a woman for choice, will probably laugh at first. +Never mind. Allow a few days for the idea to sink in, and then call +again. It is a hundred to one that you will hear that strange +manifestations have been observed. After that it will be plain +sailing. You will continue to call, always supplying fresh +suggestion, until at last, thoroughly unnerved, the tenant will +bolt, probably taking refuge in a hotel. That will be your chance. +Snatch the place up at once, and there you are."</p> +<p>For the first time since he was demobilised, Higgins smiled.</p> +<p>"By Heavens!" he said, "I'll try it. There's a little place at +Croydon which would be a perfect billet. I will pay my first visit +at once."</p> +<p>He sauntered away, proclaiming in song the satisfactory +condition of rose-culture in Picardy.</p> +<p>Yesterday he came back.</p> +<p>His face was grim. There was a light in his eye which I did not +like. He made no mention of roses blooming in Picardy or anywhere +else.</p> +<p>"How is the scheme working?" I asked. "Have you called on the +Croydon gentleman?"</p> +<p>"I have," he answered; "and when I had laid the blessed +ground-bait, as you call it, he told me he always did think there +was a ghost about the place, and he was delighted to have his +theory confirmed. He wants more details now. He invites me to +furnish evidence. What for, you ask? Well, you see, he happens to +be an active member of the Society for Psychical Research."</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href= +"images/248.png"><img width="100%" src="images/248.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Polite Stranger (during the busy hour on the +Underground).</i> "WON'T YOU SHARE MY HANDLE, MADAM?"</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>SILLY SEASONING.</h2> +<p>The strange case of the halibut and the cormorant, recently +reported in the daily Press, has brought us a budget of interesting +letters, from which we select the following as agreeable evidence +of the return of normal conditions in the fish-story-telling +industry:—</p> +<p><i>Gullane, N.B.</i></p> +<blockquote> +<p>Dear Sir,—One of the most striking results of the War has +been its effect on the mentality of birds and animals and even +fishes. The papers have lately contained accounts of a halibut +which swallowed a cormorant and survived the exploit only to fall a +victim to the wiles of a North Sea fisherman. As the cormorant is +generally regarded to be the <i>dernier cri</i> in voracity, the +incident illustrates the old saying of the biter bit. As a rule +birds of prey have the upper hand in their contests with the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page249" id="page249"></a>[pg +249]</span> finny denizens of the deep. But the triumph of the +halibut is not altogether unprecedented. I remember, when I was +cruising in the China Seas in the year 1854, witnessing a combat +between a dolphin and a Bombay duck, in which the latter came off +second-best. And some thirty years later, during a yachting +excursion off the Scilly Isles, I saw an even more remarkable duel +between a porbeagle—as the Cornish people call the +mackerel-shark—and a pipit, in which, strange to relate, the +bird came off victorious.</p> +<p>Believe me to be, Sir,</p> +<p>Yours truthfully,</p> +<p>CONSTANTINE PHIBSON.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p><i>Tara, Diddlebury</i>.</p> +<p>DEAR SIR,—When I was an undergraduate at Cambridge in the +'sixties a "Limerick" was current which began as +follows:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"There was an adventurous sole</p> +<p>Which swallowed an albatross whole."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Unfortunately I cannot remember the conclusion of the stanza, +nor am I able to state whether it was founded on fact or was merely +an ebullition of lyrical fancy. In the latter case the lines are a +striking instance of the prophetic power of minstrelsy, and justify +the use of the word "<i>vates</i>," or seer, as applied to poets by +the ancient Romans.</p> +<p>I have the honour to be, Sir,</p> +<p>Yours faithfully,</p> +<p>SEPTIMUS BOWLONG.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p><i>Rougemont Villa, Crookhaven.</i></p> +<p>DEAR SIR,—The halibut-cormorant episode has attracted +undue attention, since many similar but far more extraordinary +incidents have occurred during the War, but have passed unrecorded +owing to the claims of Bellona. I will confine myself to one which +was witnessed by my daughter Anna in course of bathing at +Sheringham in August, 1917. While swimming underwater she collided +with a middle-sized sea-serpent, which was evidently in +difficulties and made its way to the beach, where it expired. The +post-mortem, which was conducted by Professor Darcy Johnson, +F.R.S., revealed that the serpent had been choked by a gigantic +gooseberry, which had formed part of the cargo of a Greenland tramp +torpedoed by an enemy submarine. The serpent was actually being +stuffed when a bomb dropped by a Zeppelin blew it into +infinitesimal smithereens, to the profound disappointment of the +Professor and my daughter Anna, who has never been quite the same +woman since. Permit me to subscribe myself</p> +<p>Yours faithfully,</p> +<p>ALEXANDER NIAS.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p><i>Steep Hill, Cramlington.</i></p> +<p>DEAR SIR,—There is nothing surprising in the story of a +halibut devouring a cormorant. As you will see from consulting +<i>Murray</i>, halibut means "holy-butt" (or flat-fish), and holy +fishes are possessed of magical powers. When I lived on the coast +of Florida I had a tame tarpon, which could swallow +anything—croquet balls, door scrapers—and once ate an +entire cottage pianoforte in half-an-hour. Here I may add that in +my travels in Turkestan I was attacked by a boa-constrictor, and, +though I escaped with my life, it proceeded to swallow the Bactrian +camel on which I was riding. On the following day, however, when +the boa was still in a comatose condition, I killed it with a +boomerang, rescued the camel and continued my journey without +further mishap.</p> +<p>I am, Sir, Yours veraciously,</p> +<p>ANDREW MERRIMAN.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/249.png"><img width="100%" src="images/249.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Lady Driver (just joined)</i>. "OH, SERGEANT, I HOPE I SHAN'T +UPSET MY FIRST PASSENGER!"</p> +<p><i>Sergeant (A.S.C., M.T.).</i> "PASSENGER, MISS! DON'T LET THAT +WORRY YOU. PLENTY MORE PASSENGERS!"</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page250" id="page250"></a>[pg +250]</span> +<h2>THE SIX-HOUR DAY.</h2> +<p class="center">AN ANTICIPATION.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>["If the husband's hours are reduced to six that gives the wife +a chance. The home and the children are as much his as hers. With +his enlarged leisure he will now be able to take a fair share in +home duties."<br /> +<i>Mrs. WILL CROOKS</i>.]</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Jock Mackay was a lusty soul;</p> +<p>He earned his livelihood winning coal;</p> +<p>Black with grime, all huddled and bent,</p> +<p>A third of his life in the pit he spent;</p> +<p>A third he slept and a third he slacked</p> +<p>Training the whippet his fancy backed,</p> +<p>Or talking strikes with a fervent zest</p> +<p>In the bar of the neighbouring "Miners' Rest."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Jean Mackay was his wife; her day</p> +<p>Started or ever the dawn was grey;</p> +<p>She lit the fire, she shook the mats,</p> +<p>She frizzled the bacon and dressed the brats,</p> +<p>She darned and mended, she made the beds,</p> +<p>She combed the tugs in the tousled heads,</p> +<p>She knitted the socks, she washed and baked</p> +<p>Till every bone in her body ached;</p> +<p>She toiled and moiled in a non-stop fight</p> +<p>From six in the morning till ten at night.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But there dawned a day when Jock Mackay</p> +<p>Came home from the mine with a dancing eye</p> +<p>And a laugh in his heart, and he cried out, "Jean,</p> +<p>'Tis the grandest day that the warl' has seen!</p> +<p>The lads are a' cheerin' and rinnin' fey,</p> +<p>For the Government's gien us the sax-hour day."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Jean stopped scrubbing. "Is't true?" said she;</p> +<p>"I wish ye luck. But bide a wee.</p> +<p>Noo that the battle is owre an' done,</p> +<p>What will ye dae wi' the hours ye've won?"</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"What will I dae wi' them? What I like.</p> +<p>I'll tak' a bit turn wi' my wee bit tyke,</p> +<p>Or call for a crack wi' the lads at the "Rest,"</p> +<p>And mebbe I micht tak' a drap, if pressed."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"That's a' vera weel, but bide a bit.</p> +<p>Ye work sax hours a day in your pit,</p> +<p>But I'd hae ye to bear in mind," said Jean,</p> +<p>"While ye work sax I work saxteen."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Jock scratched his head. "Ay, lass, that's sae.</p> +<p>Aweel, an' what would ye hae me dae?"</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Fair does," she answered; "it's only fair</p> +<p>That ye should be takin' your ain just share,</p> +<p>An' help me in keepin' the hame for a spell</p> +<p>In the extry hours that ye've got to yoursel',</p> +<p>Sae, while I'm scrubbin' the floor," she said,</p> +<p>"Ye micht be pittin' the bairns tae bed."</p> +<p>Jock laughed. "I doot there's somethin' in it;</p> +<p>I'll stairt on my duties this verra minute."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A week went by: Jock learnt to scrub,</p> +<p>He gave the bairns their Saturday tub,</p> +<p>He made the beds, he blacked the grates,</p> +<p>He washed up saucers and cups and plates,</p> +<p>He cleaned and polished, he boiled and baked</p> +<p>Till every bone in his body ached.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Around the neighbourhood rumour flew;</p> +<p>Soon every wife in the village knew</p> +<p>That Jock, when his spell in the pit was done,</p> +<p>Was cook, nurse, parlourmaid rolled into one;</p> +<p>And every wife she vowed that her man</p> +<p>Should be trained on the same super-excellent plan.</p> +<hr /> +<p>Behold these lusty miners all</p> +<p>Fettered fast in domestic thrall,</p> +<p>Scrubbing, rubbing, baking bread,</p> +<p>Busy with scissors and needle and thread,</p> +<p>Spreading the brats their bread and jam,</p> +<p>Trundling them out in the morning pram,</p> +<p>Washing their pinafores clean and white</p> +<p>And tucking them up in their cots at night.</p> +<hr /> +<p>Ask me not—for I cannot tell,</p> +<p>I can only guess—how the end befell:</p> +<p>A wifely word, an angry scowl,</p> +<p>A bit of a grumble, a bit of a growl,</p> +<p>A scolding here, a squabbling there,</p> +<p>And here the sound of an ugly swear,</p> +<p>A cry of despair from the sore opprest,</p> +<p>A secret call to the "Miners' Rest,"</p> +<p>A sudden revolt from the brooms and mats,</p> +<p>And a roar from a thousand throats—"Down brats!"</p> +<hr /> +<p>"What—striking again?" you cry, aghast.</p> +<p>Nay, friend, cheer up, for the worst is past;</p> +<p>A glint of blue may be seen through the grey—</p> +<p><i>They are asking again for an eight-hour day</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>THE DISCIPLINARIAN.</h2> +<p>Saluting is rapidly becoming a thing of the past, even among +British-born soldiers. Dating from the Armistice, it has lapsed +more and more, until now it is practically extinct.</p> +<p>Now I regard this as serious. I have ever been a stickler for +discipline, and consequently I dislike it when men pass +by—not, like the Levite, on the other side—but close to +me without so much as a click of the eyeballs.</p> +<p>So I decided that I as a disciplinarian would make a stand +against it; I would keep my eyes open for any particularly flagrant +case. When I found it I intended to let myself go. I promised +myself an agreeable ten minutes—or longer, if I got properly +worked up.</p> +<p>My chance came the other day. I was strolling down Regent Street +when three N.C.O.'s, including a sergeant, passed me. They did not +salute. I might have been a civilian for all the notice they took +of me. Ha! my hour had come.</p> +<p>Turning, I hastened after them.</p> +<p>"Sergeant, a word."</p> +<p>They stopped and the Sergeant asked if I was speaking to +him.</p> +<p>"Have you ever heard of the little word 'Sir,' Sergeant?" I +asked severely.</p> +<p>"Evidently not. However I pass over that. But a moment ago you +went by me without saluting. Deliberately—inexcusably. I was +as close to you as I am now."</p> +<p>"But how—" began the Sergeant.</p> +<p>"Not a word," I cut him short. "Not a word. You know perfectly +well that you have neglected your duty grossly. Now tell me. Is it +your own idea to drop saluting, or has Mr. CHURCHILL had a word in +your ear?" (Sarcasm is my strong point.)</p> +<p>"But look here—" said the Sergeant, rather red in the +face.</p> +<p>"Do not interrupt," I thundered, warming to my work. "How, I +ask, do you expect the ordinary soldier to salute when <i>you</i> +slink past officers—you, who ought to be a shining example? +Now I am going to report—"</p> +<p>Something in the Sergeant's eye, which seemed to be travelling +over my person generally, made me suddenly glance down at myself, +and it was then that, horror-struck, I realised that I was wearing +for the first time my new ten-guinea suit.</p> +<p>As I faded away the Sergeant clicked his heels and saluted +smartly.</p> +<hr /> +<h4>The Struggle for Life.</h4> +<blockquote> +<p>"Lady will exchange clothing, self, little girl, for farm +butter, eggs, jam."—<i>The Lady</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page251" id="page251"></a>[pg +251]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/251.png"><img width="100%" src="images/251.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Infuriated Italian (who has recently purchased a British Army +horse).</i> "FAIR WORDS DID I SPEAK HIM, SAYING, 'PEDRO, AVANTI +PIANISSIMO,' AND—BEHOLD!"</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> +<p><i>(By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.)</i></p> +<p><i>Within The Rim</i> (COLLINS) is, I suppose, the last of the +posthumous volumes of Mr. HENRY JAMES. It is a short book, produced +with the beauty that I have already grown to associate with the +imprint of its publishers, and containing five occasional pieces. +Of these the first, which gives its title to the whole, is the most +considerable: an essay of very moving poignancy, telling the +emotion of the writer during the earliest months of the War, in +"the most beautiful English summer conceivable," months that he +"was to spend so much of in looking over from the old rampart of a +little high-perched Sussex town at the bright blue streak of the +Channel ... and staring at the bright mystery beyond the rim of the +farthest opaline reach." In the thoughts to which HENRY JAMES here +gives expression one may find much of the love and sympathy for +this country that subsequently led to that assumption of British +citizenship which he intended as their demonstration to the world. +Of interest also in this same paper is the revelation of a mind +that knew already by a personal experience (of the American Civil +War) "what immensities our affair would carry in its bosom—a +knowledge that flattered me by its hint of immunity from illusion." +I would not be understood that this is a volume for the casual +reader, or even for one desirous of making a first acquaintance +with the Master, since much of it exemplifies not only the beauty +but the perplexities of his later style; but it is certainly one +which his disciples will not willingly be without.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p><i>Notebooks of a Spinster Lady</i> (CASSELL) is smallish talk +about biggish wigs of the Victorian era, but not on that sole +account to be condemned. Perhaps rather wholesome as showing how +little distant we are from an age of government of the people by +superior people for superior people. The notebooks cover the years +1878-1903, but the anecdotes have a much wider range, are often +indeed of a venerable antiquity. The lady of the notebooks was not, +I fancy, of a critical temper, and versions not too credible of +well-known <i>contes</i> figure in her quiet kindly pages. There +are moreover stories which I should not hesitate to describe as of +an appalling banality if they were not concerned with such very +nice people. On the whole I don't think it quite fair to the +spinster lady to have published her notes. They may well have been +painstaking jottings to provide material for polite conversation +and have sounded much better than they read in cold print. For +myself the real heroine of the book is <i>Maria</i>, the poet's +wife, who, on being waked and adjured by her spouse to get up and +strike a light for that he had just thought of a good word, replied +in un-Victorian mood, "Get up yourself! I have just thought of a +bad one."</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p><i>Love—on Leave</i> (PEARSON) is the sufficiently +expressive title that Miss JESSIE POPE has chosen for a small book +of little courtship tales. You never saw a volume of its size, more +packed with love, which is shown leaping walls, laughing at +locksmiths and generally making the world go round in its +proverbial fashion. The pace of the revolutions may be found a +little disconcerting. You will perhaps be inclined to amend the +title and call the collection "Love on <i>Short</i> Leave," to mark +the regularity with which the respective heroes and heroines fall +into each others' arms at the end of every dozen pages or so. As a +matter of fact, the incident that is to my mind the best of the +bunch is an <span class="pagenum"><a name="page252" id= +"page252"></a>[pg 252]</span> exception to this rule of +osculation—a happily imagined little comedy of a young wife +who thought to avoid the visit of a tiresome sister-in-law by +betaking herself for the night to the branches of a spreading +beech. Whether in actual life this is a probable course of conduct +need not exercise your mind; at least not enough to prevent your +enjoyment of her arboreal adventure, which comes, as I say, with +the more freshness as a break in what might else be a surfeit of +proposals. In effect, a gallant little florin's worth of +<i>fiançailles</i>; though, if you wish to avoid feeling +like a matrimonial agency, you will be well-advised to take it by +instalments rather than in bulk.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Among the pacific warriors in the great 1914-18 struggle there +is probably none who did better work, often under conditions of the +gravest peril, than Mr. G.M. TREVELYAN for the Red Cross in Italy. +Disqualified both by age and health from joining the army of +attack, he threw himself into the task—a labour of +love—of tending the sick and wounded of that country which he +knows so well and of whose greatest modern hero he is the classic +biographer. That the eulogist of GARIBALDI should hasten to the +succour of Italian soldiers was fitting, and how well he performed +the task the records of the Villa Trenta Hospital, near Udine, and +of the ambulance drivers under his command, abundantly tell. The +story of this beneficent campaign and of much besides is told with +too much modesty by Mr. TREVELYAN himself, in a book entitled +<i>Scenes from Italy's War</i> (JACK), which gives a series of the +vividest impressions of the Italian effort, and is remarkable for +the best analysis that I have yet seen of the causes that led to +the disaster of Caporetto. The pages in which Mr. TREVELYAN paints +the portrait of a typical Italian soldier, home sick and perplexed, +are likely to be borrowed by many more pretentious historians of +the War for years to come.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. JOHN HARGRAVE, the author and illustrator of <i>The Great +War Brings It Home</i> (CONSTABLE) has already a wide reputation in +the world of Scouts, gained not only by his enthusiasm but by his +profound knowledge of scout-craft. Here he tells us very plainly +that the War has brought home to us the fact that, if we are to +make good our losses in the ranks of the young and the fit, we have +got to give our children a better chance of living healthy, +wholesome lives. He urges the need of more outdoor education and as +many open-air camps as possible, and shows that, if we are to carry +out such a scheme as he lays in detail before us, scoutmasters and +still more scoutmasters are wanted. With reason he complains that +none of these good fellows is paid one halfpenny, and that nearly +all of them are young men who have to get a living. "Offer them," +he says, "a living wage and how gladly would they become national +scoutmasters in charge of national camps." You may, if you are on +the look-out for it, find much that will seem fantastic in Mr. +HARGRAVE'S ideas; his appeal, however, is not to those of us who, +even in a case of great national urgency, cannot get away from the +tyranny of convention. Intrinsically his idea is sound, and I plead +with all my heart for a fair consideration of his schemes and for +help in their development.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. REX BEACH is one of the few prolific writers whose stories +increase in power as they increase in number, and this though they +are essentially novels of action rather than novels of thought. Of +his latest effort, <i>The Winds of Chance</i> (HODDER AND +STOUGHTON), one may say that there is not a tedious page in it. The +scene is laid in Yukon, a very vortex of life and colour and +excitement in fiction, whatever it may seem to the actual +inhabitants. The true hero of the story, <i>Napoleon Doret</i>, the +French voyageur, wins his heart's desire in the end and we breathe +a sigh of relief. The other hero is left the accepted swain of the +daughter of the Colonel of the North-West Mounted Police at Dawson, +and this we find a little hard to swallow, seeing what shady, not +to say immoral, company, male and female, he had just been basking +in. He is a weak creature and certainly should have married the +<i>Countess Courteau</i>, an Amazonian lady, who would have kept +him in order. But that is to be fastidious. The story is crisp and +vivid, and, anyway, those ancient prospectors, <i>Tom Linton</i> +and <i>Jerry McQuirk</i>, are worth twice the money.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. Punch has great pleasure in commending to his readers two +volumes of verse—<i>Rhymes of the Red Ensign</i> (HODDER AND +STOUGHTON), by Miss C. FOX SMITH, and <i>The Poets in Picardy</i> +(MURRAY), by Major E. DE STEIN—in which they will recognise +many poems that have appeared in his pages.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href= +"images/252.png"><img width="100%" src="images/252.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Master</i>. "BUT, JENKINS, THE NAME OF THE COMPLAINT IS NOT +PEWMONIA. SURELY YOU'VE HEARD ME AGAIN AND AGAIN SAY +'PNEUMONIA'?"</p> +<p><i>Man</i>. "WELL, SIR, I 'AVE; BUT I DIDN'T LIKE TO CORRECT +YOU."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h4>How to Solve the Food Problem.</h4> +<blockquote> +<p>"Superior Working Housekeeper and young Maid for Ladies' +College. No cooking; students sleep only."—<i>Church +Times</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<h4>Commercial Candour.</h4> +<blockquote> +<p>"The interesting announcement is made that a regular air service +for perishable goods and passengers is to be established at +Edinburgh."—<i>Scotsman</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"The London season has begun with its usual extensive programme +of religious services in various London churches."—<i>Scots +Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The best comment that we have yet seen on this statement occurs +in the following (also from a Scots paper):—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"The Commander-in-Chief has borne testimony on behalf of the +Grand Fleet to the work that the Scittish Bishops have done for the +Navy during the War."</p> +</blockquote> +</blockquote> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11284 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |