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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 153,
+August 1, 1917., by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 153, August 1, 1917.
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: April 15, 2004 [EBook #12043]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH VOL 153 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, William Flis, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+PUNCH,
+
+OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+
+VOL. 153.
+
+
+
+August 1, 1917.
+
+
+
+
+CHARIVARIA.
+
+The Imperial aspirations of KING FERDINAND are discussed by a
+Frankfort paper in an article entitled "What Bulgaria wants."
+Significantly enough the ground covered is almost identical with the
+subject-matter of an unpublished article of our own, entitled "What
+Bulgaria won't get."
+
+       ***
+
+The cow which walked down sixteen stairs into a cellar at Willesden
+is said to have been the victim of a false air-raid warning.
+
+       ***
+
+"In Scotland," says Mr. BARNES'S report on Industrial Unrest, "the
+subject of liquor restrictions was never mentioned." Some thoughts
+are too poignant for utterance.
+
+       ***
+
+According to the statement of a German paper "A Partial Crisis"
+threatens Austria. One of these days we feel sure something really
+serious will happen to that country.
+
+       ***
+
+The Medical Officer of the L.C.C. estimates that in 1916 the total
+water which flowed under London Bridge was 875,000,000,000 gallons.
+It is not known yet what is to be done about it.
+
+       ***
+
+The Army Council has forbidden the sale of raffia in the United
+Kingdom. Personally we never eat the stuff.
+
+       ***
+
+Nature Notes: A white sparrow has been seen in Huntingdon; a
+well-defined solar halo has been observed in Hertfordshire, and Mr.
+WINSTON CHURCHILL was noticed the other day reading _The Morning
+Post_.
+
+       ***
+
+A boy of eighteen told the Stratford magistrate that he had given
+up his job because he only got twenty-five shillings a week. He will
+however continue to give the War his moral support.
+
+       ***
+
+The Austrian EMPEROR has told the representative of _The Cologne
+Gazette_ that he "detests war." If not true this is certainly a
+clever invention on KARL'S part.
+
+       ***
+
+We feel that the public need not have been so peevish because the
+experimental siren air-raid warning was not heard by everybody in
+London. They seem to overlook the fact that full particulars of the
+warning appeared next morning in the papers.
+
+       ***
+
+A man who obtained two hundred-weight of sugar from a firm of
+ship-brokers has been fined ten pounds at Glasgow. Some curiosity
+exists as to the number of ships he had to purchase in order to secure
+that amount of sugar.
+
+       ***
+
+A London magistrate has held that tea and dinner concerts in
+restaurants are subject to the entertainment tax. This decision will
+come as a great shock to many people who have always regarded the
+music as an anaesthetic.
+
+       ***
+
+The no-tablecloths order has caused great perturbation among the
+better-class hotel-keepers in Berlin. Does the Government, they ask
+sarcastically, expect their class of patron to wipe their mouths on
+their shirt-cuffs?
+
+       ***
+
+The chairman of the House of Commons' Tribunal complains that while
+cats drink milk as usual they no longer catch mice. This however may
+easily be remedied if the FOOD-CONTROLLER will meet them halfway on
+the question of dilution.
+
+       ***
+
+The public has been warned by Scotland Yard against a man calling
+himself Sid Smith. We wouldn't do it ourselves, of course, but we are
+strongly opposed to the police interfering in what is after all purely
+a matter of personal taste.
+
+       ***
+
+The bones of ST. GEORGE have been discovered near Beersheba in
+Palestine by members of our Expeditionary Force. This should dispel
+the popular delusion which has always ascribed the last resting-place
+of England's patron saint to the present site of the Mint.
+
+       ***
+
+"War bread will keep for a week," stated Mr. CLYNES for the Ministry
+of Food. Of course you can keep it longer if you are collecting
+curios.
+
+       ***
+
+It is announced that all salaries in the German Diplomatic Service
+have been reduced. We always said that frightfulness didn't really
+pay.
+
+       ***
+
+German women have been asked to place their hair at the disposal of
+the authorities. If they do not care to sacrifice their own hair
+they can just send along the handful or two which they collect in
+the course of waiting in the butter queue.
+
+       ***
+
+_Hamlet_ has been rendered by amateur actors at the Front, all scenery
+being dispensed with. If you must dispense with one or the other, why
+not leave out the acting?
+
+       ***
+
+"To assist in the breaking-up of grass-land," we are told, "the Board
+of Agriculture proposes to allocate a number of horses to agricultural
+counties." The idea of allocating some of our incurable golfers
+to this purpose does not appear to have suggested itself to our
+slow-witted authorities.
+
+       ***
+
+"I have resigned because there is no further need for my services,"
+said Mr. KENNEDY-JONES. Several politicians are of the opinion that
+this was not a valid reason.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First ex-Knut_. "WOULDN'T CARE TO BE IN BLIGHTY NOW,
+REG., WHEN IT'S ROTTEN FORM TO GO IN FOR FANCY TEAS AND THAT--WHAT?"
+
+_Second ex-Knut_. "HONK!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AN EXPANSIVE SMILE.
+
+    "SIX HUNDRED SQUARE MILES. BRITISH GAINS SINCE LAST
+    YEAR."--_The Statesman_ (_India_).
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The _Berlin Tageblatt_ says that HERR MIHAELIS in the critical
+passages measured his words "as carefully as if they were meat
+rations." A wise precaution, in view of the likelihood that he
+would have to eat them.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+From a Cinema advertisement:--
+
+    "KEEPS YOU ON THE EDGE OF YOUR SEATS THROUGHOUT THE FIVE ACTS
+    OF A STORY THAT UNFOLDS ITSELF MIDST THE ROMANTIC PURLOINS OF
+    ITALY AND ENGLAND."--_Austrian Paper_.
+
+We gather that the scene is laid in the thieves' quarter.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TO WILLIAM AT THE BACK OF THE GALICIAN FRONT.
+
+  Once more you follow in Bellona's train,
+    (Her train de luxe) in search of cheap reclame;
+    Once more you flaunt your rearward oriflamme,
+  A valiant eagle nosing out the slain.
+
+  Not to the West, where RUPPRECHT stands at bay,
+    Hard pushed with hounds of England at his throat,
+    And WILLIE'S chance grows more and more remote
+  Of breaking hearts along The Ladies' Way;
+
+  But to the East you go, for easier game,
+    Where traitors to their faith desert the fight,
+    And better men than yours are swept in flight
+  By coward Anarchy that sells her shame.
+
+  For here, by favour of your new allies,
+    You'll see recovered all you lost of late,
+    When, tried in open combat, fair and straight,
+  Your Huns were flattened out like swatted flies.
+
+  Well, make the most of this so timely boom,
+    For Russia yet may cut the cancer out--
+    Her heart is big enough--and turn about
+  Clean-limbed and strong and terrible as doom.
+
+  But, though she fail us in the final test,
+    Not there, not there, my child, the end shall be,
+    But where, without your option, France and we
+  Have made our own arrangements further West.
+
+  O.S.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+DUSTBIN.
+
+He dropped in to tea, quite casually; forced an entry through the mud
+wall of our barn, in fact. No, he wouldn't sit down--expected to be
+leaving in a few minutes; but he didn't mind if he did have a sardine,
+and helped himself to the tinful. Yes, a bit of bully, thanks,
+wouldn't be amiss; and a nice piece of coal; cockchafers very good too
+when, as now, in season; and, for savoury, a little nibble with a yard
+of tarred string and an empty cardboard cigarette-box. Thank you very
+much.
+
+"Why, the little brute's a perfect dustbin," said my mate; and
+"Dustbin" the puppy was throughout his stay with us.
+
+For six weeks did Dustbin--attached for rations and
+discipline--accompany us on our sanitary rounds; set us a fine example
+of indifference to shell fire, even to the extent of attempting
+to catch spent shrapnel as it fell; and proved the wettest of wet
+blankets to the "socials" of the local rats. Then, as happens with
+sanitary inspectors in France, there arrived late one afternoon
+a despatch requesting the pleasure of my society--in five hours'
+time--at a village some twenty kilos distant as the shell flies. I
+found I should have fifteen minutes in which to pack, four hours for
+my journey, and forty-five minutes between the packing and the start
+in which to find a home for Dustbin.
+
+"Take the little dorg off you?" said a Sergeant acquaintance in the
+D.A.C. "I couldn't, Corp'l. Why, I don't even know how I'm goin' to
+take the foal yonder"--he glared reproachfully at a placid Clydesdale
+mare and her tottering one-day-old; "and 'ow I'm goin' to take my posh
+breeches--"
+
+I left him hovering despondently over his equipment and a pile of
+dirty linen.
+
+We tried the M.G.C. We were on the best of terms and always had been;
+they said so. They apologised in advance for the insanitary conditions
+I might find; inquired after my health; offered me some coffee and
+generally loved me; but they couldn't love my dog. The Cook even went
+so far as openly to associate my guileless puppy with a shortage of
+dried herrings in the sergeants' mess.
+
+Passing through the E.A.M.C. transport lines I rescued Dustbin from
+a hulking native mongrel wearing an identity disc. I judged the
+Ambulance would not be wanting another dog; but there was still hope
+with the Salvage Company.
+
+The Salvagier whom I met upon the threshold of the "billet" (half a
+limber load of bricks and an angle iron) was quite sure the Salvage
+Company couldn't take a dog, as they had an infant wild boar and two
+fox cubs numbering on their strength; but he thought that he could
+plant my prodigy with a friend of his, a bombardier in the E.G.A.,
+the only other unit within easy distance. We headed for the E.G.A.
+
+It was just at this point that there occurred one of those little
+incidents so dear to the comic draughtsman, but less popular with
+"us." A moaning howl, a rushing hissing sound, a moment of tense
+and awful silence, a devastating crash, and the E.G.A. officers'
+bath-house, "erected at enormous trouble and expense" by a handful of
+T.U. men and myself the day before, soared heavenwards with an acre
+or two of the surrounding scenery. "Yes," said the Salvage gentleman
+as he regained his perpendicular, "as I was sayin', 'is size is in
+'is favour (you'd better git down ag'in, Corp'l)--'is size is in 'is
+favour; 'e'll go in a dixie easy, or even in a--(there's another bit
+orf the church)--even in a tin 'at, if you fold 'im up, but I'm 'fraid
+the 'eads ain't much in favour of a dog. Leastways the ole man I
+know was a member of the Cat Club--took a lot o' prizes at the Crys'l
+Pala..."
+
+"I think we'd better run this little bit, Corp'l," my guide said
+suddenly. It was advisable. A sprint along some two hundred yards
+of what had once been a road, with a stone wall (like a slab of
+_gruyere_ now, alas) upon our right, and we should once more have the
+comfortable feeling one always enjoys in a "hot" village when there
+are houses upon either hand. A trolley load of rations held the middle
+of the road; the ration party was, I believe, in the ditch upon the
+left; and a strangled voice exclaimed after each burst, "Oh crummy! I
+do 'ope they don't 'it the onions."
+
+We gave our forty-seventh impersonation of a pair of starfish, and
+then legged it for the apparent shelter of the houses. At least I
+did; the salvage man, less squeamish, found a haven in an adjacent
+cookhouse grease-trap and dust-shoot. I listened intently, but it was
+only the falling of spent shrapnel, not the patter of Dustbin's baby
+but quite enormous feet. A stove-pipe belching smoke and savoury fumes
+protruded itself through the pavement on my right. Through the chinks
+in the gaping slabs there came the ruddy flicker that bespoke a "home
+from home" beneath my feet; and then, still listening for signs of
+Dustbin, I heard--
+
+"Didn't I tell you, Erb, to stop up that extra ventilation 'ole with
+somethin'?--and now look wot's blown in. 'Ere, steady on, ole man;
+that's got to last four men for three days."
+
+"Well, I'm ----," chimed in another voice, "if the bloomin' tin ain't
+empty. Why, I only just opened it--that's a 'ole Maconochie 'e's got
+inside 'im, not countin' wot you've just.... Poor little beggar must
+be starvin'. You're welcome to stop and share our grub, young feller,
+but I've got to go on p'rade wiv that--that's a belt, that is...."
+
+I turned towards the dimly lighted road that led to ---- [Censored].
+Dustbin had found a home.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A FATEFUL SESSION.
+
+SITTING HEN. "GO AWAY! DON'T HURRY ME!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Inquiring Lady_ (_ninety-ninth question_). "AND WHAT
+ARE YOU IN THE NAVY, MAY I ASK?"
+
+_Tar_. "I'M A FLAG-WAGGER, MARM--YES."
+
+_Inquiring Lady_. "OH, REALLY! AND WHAT DO YOU WAG FLAGS FOR?"
+
+_Tar_ (_in a ring-off voice_). "MAKIN' READY FOR THE PEACE
+CELEBRATIONS."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE MUDLARKS.
+
+The scene is a School of Instruction at the back of the Western Front
+set in a valley of green meadows bordered by files of plumy poplars
+and threaded through by a silver ribbon of water.
+
+On the lazy afternoon breeze come the concerted yells of a bayonet
+class, practising frightfulness further down the valley; also the
+staccato chatter of Lewis guns punching holes in the near hill-side.
+
+In the centre of one meadow is a turf _manege_. In the centre of the
+_manege_ stands the villain of the piece, the Riding-Master.
+
+He wears a crown on his sleeve, tight breeches, jack-boots, vicious
+spurs and sable moustachios. His right hand toys with a long, long
+whip, his left with his sable moustachios. He looks like DIAVOLO, the
+lion-tamer, about to put his man-eating chums through hoops of fire.
+
+His victims, a dozen Infantry officers, circle slowly round the
+_manege_. They are mounted on disillusioned cavalry horses who came
+out with WELLINGTON and know a thing or two. Now and again they wink
+at the Riding-Master and he winks back at them.
+
+The audience consists of an ancient Gaul in picturesque blue pants,
+whose _metier_ is to totter round the meadows brushing flies off a
+piebald cow; the School Padre, who keeps at long range so that he may
+see the sport without hearing the language, and ten little _gamins_,
+who have been splashing in the silver stream and are now sitting
+drying on the bank like ten little toads.
+
+They come every afternoon, for never have they seen such fun, never
+since the great days before the War when the circus with the boxing
+kangaroo and the educated porks came to town.
+
+Suddenly the Riding-Master clears his throat. At the sound thereof the
+horses cock their ears and their riders grab handfuls of leather and
+hair.
+
+_R.-M._ "Now, gentlemen, mind the word. Gently away tra-a-a-at."
+The horses break into a slow jog-trot and the cavaliers into a cold
+perspiration. The ten little _gamins_ cheer delightedly.
+
+_R.-M._ "Sit down, sit up, 'ollow yer backs, keep the hands down
+backs foremost, even pace. Number Two, Sir, 'ollow yer back; don't
+sit 'unched up like you'd over-ate yourself. Number Seven, don't
+throw yerself about in that drunken manner, you'll miss the saddle
+altogether presently, coming down--can't expect the 'orse to catch
+you _every time_.
+
+"Number Three, don't flap yer helbows like an 'en; you ain't laid an
+hegg, 'ave you?
+
+"'Ollow yer backs, 'eads up, 'eels down; four feet from nose to croup.
+
+"Number One, keep yer feet back, you'll be kickin' that mare's teeth
+out, you will.
+
+"Come down off 'is 'ead, Number Seven; this ain't a monkey 'ouse.
+
+"Keep a light an' even feelin' of both reins, backs of the 'ands
+foremost, four feet from nose to croup.
+
+"Leggo that mare's tail, Number Seven; you're goin', not comin', and
+any'ow that mare likes to keep 'er tail to 'erself. You've upset 'er
+now, the tears is fair streamin' down 'er face--'ave a bit of feelin'
+for a pore dumb beast.
+
+"'Ollow yer backs, even pace, grip with the knees, shorten yer reins,
+four feet from nose to croup. Number Eight, restrain yerself, me lad,
+restrain yerself, you ain't shadow-sparrin', you know.
+
+"You too, Number Nine; if you don't calm yer action a bit you'll burst
+somethin'.
+
+"Now, remember, a light feelin' of the right rein and pressure
+of the left leg. Ride--wa-a-alk! Ri'--tur-r-rn! 'Alt--'pare to
+s'mount--s'mount! Dismount, I said, Number Five; that means get down.
+No, don't dismount on the flat of yer back, me lad, it don't look
+nice. Try to remember you're an horfficer and be more dignified.
+
+"Now listen to me while I enumerate the parts of a norse in language
+so simple any bloomin' fool can understand. This'll be useful to you,
+for if you ever 'ave a norse to deal with and he loses one of 'is
+parts you'll know 'ow to indent for a new one.
+
+"The 'orse 'as two ends, a fore-end--so called from its tendency to
+go first, and an 'ind-end or rear rank. The 'orse is provided with
+two legs at each end, which can be easily distinguished, the fore legs
+being straight and the 'ind legs 'avin' kinks in 'em.
+
+"As the 'orse does seventy-five per cent. of 'is dirty work with 'is
+'ind-legs it is advisable to keep clear of 'em, rail 'em off or strap
+boxing-gloves on 'em. The legs of the 'orse is very delicate and
+liable to crock up, so do not try to trim off any unsightly knobs that
+may appear on them with a hand-axe--a little of that 'as been known to
+spoil a norse for good.
+
+"Next we come to the 'ead. On the south side of the 'ead we discover
+the mouth. The 'orse's mouth was constructed for mincing 'is victuals,
+also for 'is rider to 'ang on by. As the 'orse does the other
+forty-five per cent. of 'is dirty work with 'is mouth it is advisable
+to stand clear of that as well. In fact, what with his mouth at one
+end and 'is 'ind-legs at t'other, the middle of the 'orse is about
+the only safe spot, and _that is why we place the saddle there_.
+Everything in the Harmy is done with a reason, gentlemen.
+
+"And now, Number Ten, tell me what coloured 'orse you are ridin'?
+
+"A chestnut? No 'e ain't no chestnut and never was, no, nor a
+raspberry roan neither; 'e's a bay. 'Ow often must I tell you that
+a chestnut 'orse is the colour of lager beer, a brown 'orse the
+colour of draught ale, and a black 'orse the colour of stout.
+
+"And now, gentlemen, stan' to yer 'orses, 'pare to mount--mount!
+
+"There you go, Number Seven, up one side and down the other. Try
+to stop in the saddle for a minute if only for the view. You'll get
+yourself 'urted one of these days dashing about all over the 'orse
+like that; and 'sposing you was to break your neck, who'd get into
+trouble? _Me_, not you. 'Ave a bit of consideration for other people,
+please.
+
+"Now mind the word. Ride--ri'--tur-r-rn. Walk march. Tr-a-a-at.
+Helbows slightly brushing the ribs--_your_ ribs, not the 'orse's,
+Number Three.
+
+"Shorten yer reins, 'eels down, 'eads up, 'ollow yer backs, four feet
+from nose to croup.
+
+"Get off that mare's neck, Number Seven, and try ridin' in the saddle
+for a change; it'll be more comfortable for everybody.
+
+"You oughter do cowboy stunts for the movin' pictures, Number Six, you
+ought really. People would pay money to see you ride a norse upside
+down like that. Got a strain of wild Cossack blood in you, eh?
+
+"There you are, now you've been and fell off. Nice way to repay me for
+all the patience an' learning I've given you!
+
+"What are you lyin' there for? Day-dreaming? I s'pose you're goin' to
+tell me you're 'urted now?' Be writing 'ome to Mother about it next:
+'DEAR MA,--A mad mustang 'as trod on me stummick. Please send me a
+gold stripe. Your loving child, ALGY.'
+
+"Now mind the word. Ride--Can--ter!"
+
+He cracks his whip; the horses throw up their heads and break into a
+canter; the cavaliers turn pea-green about the chops, let go the reins
+and clutch saddle-pommels.
+
+The leading horse, a rakish chestnut, finding his head free at last
+and being heartily fed-up with the whole business, suddenly bolts out
+of the _manege_ and legs it across the meadow, _en route_ for stables
+and tea. His eleven mates stream in his wake, emptying saddles as they
+go.
+
+The ten little _gamins_ dance ecstatically upon the bank, waving their
+shirts and shrilling "_A Berlin! A Berlin!_"
+
+The ancient Gaul props himself up against the pie-bald cow and shakes
+his ancient head. "_C'est la guerre_," he croaks.
+
+The deserted Riding-Master damns his eyes and blesses his soul for
+a few moments; then sighs resignedly, takes a cigarette from his
+cap lining, lights it and waddles off towards the village and his
+favourite _estaminet_.
+
+PATLANDER.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Motor Cyclist_. "DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT AN
+AEROPLANE COMING DOWN SOMEWHERE NEAR HERE?"
+
+_Boy._ "NO, SIR. I'VE ONLY BEEN SHOOTIN' AT SPARRERS."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Some of these fish have already found their way to Leeds,
+    and, it must be added, have not met with a very cordial
+    reception. Although the fish may be bought at what might be
+    described as an attractive price, they do not appear likely
+    to move for some time."--_Yorkshire Paper_.
+
+But if the hot weather continues--
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Convalescent Lieutenant_. "CHEERIO, MARTHA! I'VE GOT
+ANOTHER PIP."
+
+_Martha_. "LAWKS, SIR! I 'OPE IT WON'T MEAN MORE VISITS TO THE
+'OSPITAL."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SENSES AND SENSIBILITY.
+
+I.
+
+_From Fred Golightly, comedian, to Sinclair Voyle, dramatic critic._
+
+DEAR VOYLE,--I am not one ordinarily to take any notice of remarks
+that are overheard and reported to me; but there are exceptions to
+every rule and I am making one now. I was told this evening by a
+mutual friend and fellow-member that at the Buskin Club, after lunch
+to-day, in the presence of a number of men, you said that the trouble
+with me was that I had no sense of humour.
+
+Considering my standing as a comedian, hitherto earning high salaries
+and occupying the place I do solely by virtue of my comic gifts (as
+the Press and Public unanimously agree), this disparagement from a man
+wielding as much power as you do is very damaging. Managers hearing of
+it as your honest opinion might fight shy of me.
+
+I therefore ask you to withdraw the criticism with as much publicity
+as it had when you defamed me by making it.
+
+Why you should have made it at all I can't imagine, for I have often
+seen you laughing in your stall, and we have been friends for many
+years.
+
+Believe me, yours sincerely but sorrowfully, FRED GOLIGHTLY.
+
+II.
+
+_From Sinclair Voyle, dramatic critic, to Fred Golightly, comedian._
+
+DEAR GOLIGHTLY,--You have been misinformed. I didn't say you had no
+sense of humour; I said you had no sense of honour.
+
+Yours faithfully, SINCLAIR VOYLE.
+
+III.
+
+_From Fred Golightly, comedian, to Sinclair Voyle, dramatic critic._
+
+DEAR OLD CHAP,--You can't think how glad I am to have your disclaimer.
+I disliked having to write to you as I did, after so many years of
+good fellowship, but you must admit that I had some provocation. It is
+a pretty serious thing for a man in my position to be publicly singled
+out by a man in yours as being without a sense of humour. However,
+your explanation puts everything right, and all's well that ends well.
+Yours as ever, FRED.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "PEACE CRANKS AND CROOKS."--_Evening Standard_.
+
+The right hon. Member for Woolwich objects. He has nothing whatever to
+do with Ramsayites.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+JIMMY--KILLED IN ACTION.
+
+  Horses he loved, and laughter, and the sun,
+    A song, wide spaces and the open air;
+  The trust of all dumb living things he won,
+    And never knew the luck too good to share.
+
+  His were the simple heart and open hand,
+    And honest faults he never strove to hide;
+  Problems of life he could not understand,
+    But as a man would wish to die he died.
+
+  Now, though he will not ride with us again,
+    His merry spirit seems our comrade yet,
+  Freed from the power of weariness or pain,
+    Forbidding us to mourn--or to forget.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A LITERAL EPOCH.
+
+That there rumpus i' the village laast Saturday night? Aye, it were
+summat o' a rumpus, begad! Lor! there aren't bin nothin' like it
+not since the time when they wuz a-gwain' to burn th' ould parson's
+effigy thirty-fower year ago (but it niver come off, because 'e up an'
+offered to contribute to the expenses 'isself, an' that kind o' took
+the wind out on't).
+
+Ye see, Sir, there's just seven licensed 'ouses i' the village.
+Disgraceful? Aye, so 'tis, begad!--on'y seven licensed 'ouses--an'
+I do mind when 'twas pretty nigh one man one pub, as the sayin' is.
+Howsomever, to-day there's seven, and some goes to one and some goes
+to totherun.
+
+Well, laast Friday night me an' Tom Figgures an' Bertie Mayo an' Peter
+Ledbetter an' a lot more on us what goes to Reuben Izod's at The Bell,
+we come in to 'ave our drink. And, mind you, pretty nigh all on us 'ad
+a-bin mouldin'-up taters all day, so's to get _them_ finished afore
+the hay; so us could do wi' a drop. Aye, aye!
+
+Well, fust thing us knowed--no more'n a hour or two after--Mrs. Izod
+was a-sayin' to old Peter Ledbetter, as 'er set down a fresh pint for
+'n, "That's the laast drop o' beer i' the 'ouse," 'er says.
+
+"_Whaat_!" says Peter, though there warn't no call for 'im to voice
+the gen'ral sentiments, 'coz you see, Sir, 'e'd a-got the laast pint
+an' us 'adn't.
+
+"There's a nice drop o' cider, though," says Mrs. Izod. "Leastways,
+when I says a nice drop, there's a matter o' fifteen gallons, I
+dessay," 'er says.
+
+"I 'ave drunk cider at a pinch," says Bertie Mayo, cautious-like, "and
+my ould father, I d' mind, 'e'd used to drink it regular."
+
+"Ah, that 'a did!--an' mine too, and 'is father afore 'un," says Tom
+Figgures; "but I reckon 'tisn't what 'twas in them days."
+
+"Well, you may do as you'm a-minded 'bout 'avin' it," says Mrs. Izod;
+"but no more ain't beer what 'twas neether, come to that."
+
+"You'm right there, Missus," says all the rest on us.
+
+An' then Bertie Mayo, 'oo's allus a turr'ble far-seeing sort of chap,
+'e says, "Reckon the trolley 'ull be along fust thing i' the marnin'
+from the brewery, Missus?" An' when Mrs. Izod 'er says as 'er didn't
+know, but 'twas to be 'oped as 'twud, a sort of a blight settled down
+on the lot on us, which I reckon is a pretty fair way o' puttin' it,
+for a blight allus goes 'and-in-'and wi' a drought.
+
+Well, either us finished that evenin' up on cider or us finished the
+cider up that evenin'--there warn't much in it one way or t'other.
+An' next day--this bit as I'm a-tellin' you now us niver 'eard tell on
+till arterwards, but I'm a-tellin' it _yeou_ just as it 'appened--next
+_daay_ (that were Sat'rday, mind) there was a turr'ble to-do in the
+arternoon, for there warn't nobbut limonade in the house when them
+timber-haulin' chaps stopped to waater the engin'. Well, you may
+reckon!...
+
+An' then, when us come 'ome from work, us found the door o' The Bell
+shut an' locked, an' "Sold Out" wrote on a piece o' cardboard i' the
+parlour winder by Reuben Izod's second child! Begad, that was sommut
+if yeou like! Us stud there a-gyaupin' an' a-gyaupin', till at last
+Peter Ledbetter give a kick at the door and 'ollers out, "Whatten a
+gammit do 'ee call this 'ere, Reuben Izod? 'Tis drink us waants, not
+tickets for the Cook'ry Demonstration." (Turr'ble sarcastic 'e do be
+sometimes, Peter Ledbetter).
+
+"I aren't got none," says Reuben from be'ind the door.
+
+"Well, cider, then," says Bertie Mayo.
+
+"Tall 'ee I aren't got narrun--beer, cider, nor limonade--nary a drop.
+'Tiddn' no manner o' good for you chaps to stan' there. You'd best
+toddle along up to The Green Dragon an' see if Mas'r Holtom've got
+any."
+
+Well, bein' as no one iver yet 'eard tell o' one publican tellin'
+ye to go furder a-fild and get sarved by another publican (savin'
+as 'twas a drunken man as 'e wanted to be shut on), us was struck so
+dazed-like as us went along the road wi' never a word. But us 'adn't
+got 'alfway theer afore us met Johnnie Tarplett, Jim Peyton, and a
+lot more on 'em all comin' along the road towards we.
+
+"Where be gwain'?" says Johnnie Tarplett.
+
+"Us be gwain' along to The Green Dragon to get a drop o' drink," says
+Tom Figgures.
+
+"The Green Dragon's shut 'owever," says Johnnie Tarplett. "Us was
+a-gwain' along--"
+
+"Aye, aye!" us sings out. "So's The Bell shut too!"
+
+Well, then us all took and went along to The Reaper, an' _that_ were
+shut, an' The Dovedale Arms (which is an oncomfortably superior sort
+of a 'ouse, dealin' in sperrits) was down to ginger-wine, an' The
+Crown and The Corner Cupboard an' The Ploughman's Rest was all crowded
+out an' gettin' down to the bottom o' the casks.
+
+An' then, when us took an' thowt as 'twould be 'ay-makin' next week,
+an' dry weather all round, us stuud i' the road and spak our thowts
+out.
+
+"Dom the KEYSER!" says Peter Ledbetter, to gie us a start like.
+
+"Niver knowed sich a thing afore in all my born days," says Bertie
+Mayo. "Niver knowed The Bell shut yet, not since 'twas first opened
+six years afore th' ould QUEEN come to the throne."
+
+"Reckon sich a thing niver 'appened afore i' the history o' Dovedale
+parish," says Johnnie Tarplett.
+
+"Niver since WILL'UM CONQUEROR," says Jim Peyton.
+
+"Niver since NOAH 'isself," says Tom Figgures.
+
+"'Tis a nepoch, look you," says Peter Ledbetter. An' though us didn'
+know what 'a meant no more'n 'a did 'isself, us were inclined to agree
+wi 'm. Oh, 'tis a Greek word meanin' a stoppage, is it? Well, if what
+you say be _trew_, Peter Ledbetter was right 'owever, an' them Greeks
+is at the bottom of all the trouble, as I said in The Bell five nights
+ago--my son bein' at Salonika, as you do know, Sir.
+
+An' arter a bit us all went along home, all on us tryin' to remember
+what us knowed about home-brewin'. An' if you gentlefolks doan't
+get your washin' done praperly this wik 'tis along o' the tubs bein'
+otherwise engaaged.
+
+W.B.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+COMMERCIAL CANDOUR.
+
+    "By partial dissembling we are able to offer this high-grade
+    Car at a price within the reach of those desiring the
+    best."--_New Zealand Herald_.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "At Ormskirk rejected army horses sold by auction realised
+    L30 to L60. The average was over L30."--_Sunday Chronicle_.
+
+We always like to have our sums done for us.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HOW TO UNBOOM OUR HOLIDAY RESORTS.
+
+[Illustration: BEACHVILLE IS _TOO_ BRACING!
+
+If you have a LIVER, BEACHVILLE will make you feel ABSOLUTELY ROTTEN!
+
+If you have not, BEACHVILLE will give you one within 24 HOURS!]
+
+[Illustration: CHALKCLIFFE NO PLACE FOR CHILDREN
+
+Children who do not fall off the cliffs invariably catch measles.
+
+Many do _both_.]
+
+[Illustration: SHRIMPINGTON THE GRAND(!) PARADE ON A WET DAY
+
+STATISTICS show that the AVERAGE RAINFALL at SHRIMPINGTON is HIGHER
+than that at _any_ other watering-place in the United Kingdom.]
+
+[Illustration: BARWASH For BEASTLY BATHING from a BEACH of BROKEN
+BOTTLES
+
+If this doesn't put you off, write to the Town Clerk for the Medical
+Officer's report on the Town Water Supply.]
+
+[In view of the official discouragement of railway-travelling
+something should be done to eradicate from the minds of the public
+any favourable impressions created by the posters of the past.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: TRIALS OF A CAMOUFLAGE OFFICER.
+
+_Flapper_. "OH, I'VE HEARD SUCH WONDERFUL THINGS ABOUT
+CAMOUFLAGE--MAKING MEN LOOK LIKE GUNS, AND GUNS LIKE COWS, AND ALL
+THAT SORT OF THING. COULDN'T YOU DO SOME OF YOUR TRICKS HERE?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE INCORRIGIBLES.
+
+HOW AN EXASPERATED ADJUTANT WOULD _LIKE_ TO ADDRESS THE NEW GUARD.
+
+  "Guard! for I still concede to you the title,
+    Though well I know that it is not your due,
+  Being devoid of everything most vital
+    To the high charge which is imposed on you;
+  Listen awhile--and, Number Two, be dumb;
+    Forbear to scratch the irritable tress;
+  No longer masticate the furtive gum;
+  And, Private Pitt, stop nibbling at your thumb,
+    And for a change attend to my address.
+
+  "Day after day I urge the old, old thesis--
+    To reverence well the man of martial note,
+  Nor treat as mere sartorial caprices
+    The mystic marks he carries on his coat,
+  And how to know what everybody is,
+    The swords, the crowns, the purple-stained cards,
+  The Brigadiers concealed in Burberries,
+  And render all those pomps and dignities
+    Which are, of course, the _raison d'etre_ of guards.
+
+  "With what avail? for never a guard is mounted
+    That does not do some wild abhorrent thing,
+  Only in hushed low tones to be recounted,
+    Lest haply hints of it should reach the KING--
+  Dark ugly tales of sentinels who drank,
+    Or lost their prisoners while imbibing tea,
+  Or took great pains to make their minds a blank
+  Whene'er approached by gentlemen of rank,
+    And, when reproved, presented arms to me!
+
+  "There is no potentate in France or Flanders
+    You will not heap with insult if you can.
+  For lo! a car. It is the Corps Commander's;
+    The sentries take no notice of the man,
+  Or fix him with a not unkindly stare,
+    And slap their butts in an engaging way,
+  Or else, too late, in penitent despair
+  Cry, 'Guard, turn out!' and there is no guard there,
+    But they are in _The Blue Estaminet_.
+
+  "Weary I am of worrying and warning;
+    For all my toil I get it in the neck;
+  I am fed up with it; and from this morning
+    I shall not seek to keep your crimes in check;
+  Sin as you will--I shall but acquiesce;
+    Sleep on, O sentinels--I shall not curse;
+  And so, maybe, from sheer contrariness
+  Some day a guard may be a slight success;
+    At any rate you cannot well do worse."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LIGHT ON THE SITUATION.
+
+    "FRONT OF CROWN PRINCE RUPPRECHT.--At night the firing
+    engagement slackened but little, and near Hellwerden it
+    again rose to very great intensity."--_Admiralty, per
+    Wireless Press, July 26th_.
+
+Readers who shared the doubt of _The Times_ as to the existence of
+"Hellwerden" (which doesn't appear in the maps) will be interested
+to learn from one of our correspondents, who knows it well, that it
+exists all right, but is only visible in the very early morning. _The
+Times_ of July 28th bears out this statement.
+
+Our correspondent adds the information that "Hellwerden" is sometimes
+spelt Morgendaemmerung.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: RUSSIA'S DARK HOUR.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
+
+_Monday, July 23rd_.--The country awoke this morning to find itself
+threatened with a first-class political crisis and possibly a General
+Election to follow. Members dwelling temporarily on the Western Front
+had reluctantly torn themselves from their dug-outs on the receipt of
+a three-line whip, and had repaired post-haste to Westminster.
+
+[Illustration: PAPA MCKENNA LECTURES YOUNG BONAR ON EXTRAVAGANCE. EVEN
+WHEN SOWING HIS WILDEST OATS HE (PAPA) NEVER CAME ANYWHERE NEAR SEVEN
+MILLION POUNDS PER DIEM.]
+
+The trouble was nominally about the agricultural labourer and his
+minimum wage. Should it be twenty-five shillings, as set down in the
+Corn Production Bill, or thirty shillings, as proposed by Mr. WARDLE,
+the Leader of the Labour Party? The Amendment had the assent of the
+hard-shell Free-Traders, who were glad to snatch at any chance of
+defeating the proposed bounty to the farmer. They had been further
+incensed by the appointment of Messrs. MONTAGU and CHURCHILL to the
+Ministry, and hoped perhaps that some of the extreme Tories would help
+them to give the PRIME MINISTER a good hard knock.
+
+Mr. PROTHERO made it plain from the outset that the Government meant
+to stand or fall by the proposal in the Bill; and most of the friends
+of the agricultural labourer prudently preferred twenty-five shillings
+in the hand to thirty shillings in the bush; with the result that the
+amendment was defeated by 301 to 102.
+
+Mr. HOGGE called attention to the anomalous position occupied by
+Dr. ADDISON. The late Minister for Munitions and future Minister for
+Reconstruction is for the moment only an ordinary Member. Ought he not
+therefore to be re-elected before taking up his new appointment? Mr.
+SPEAKER'S judicious reply, "I do not appoint Ministers," left one
+wondering what sort of an appearance the Treasury Bench would present
+if he did.
+
+_Tuesday, July 24th_.--Major HUNT and Mr. KING, though in some
+respects not unlike one another--each combining a child-like belief
+in what they are told outside the House with an invincible scepticism
+in regard to the information they receive from Ministers inside--are
+rarely found hunting in couples. But they made common cause to-day
+over the alleged award of the Distinguished Service Order to persons
+who had never been near the firing line, and they refused to accept
+Mr. MACPHERSON'S assurance that it was only given for service in the
+field. Mr. KING knew for a fact that a gentleman in France who had
+only served in the Post-Office had received it--presumably for not
+deserting his post; while Major HUNT could not understand how anyone
+should have earned it for fighting at home. "How has this country been
+attacked?" he asked indignantly. Air-raids evidently do not count with
+this gallant yeoman.
+
+Efficiency, not economy, is the PRIME MINISTER'S watchword. Sir EDWARD
+CARSON as a Member of the War Cabinet will have no portfolio, but will
+enjoy the not inadequate salary of five thousand a year for what the
+Profession calls "a thinking part." The new Minister of Reconstruction
+is to have two thousand a year; and we shall no doubt hear shortly
+that he has begun his labours by reconstructing another hotel for the
+accommodation of his staff.
+
+[Illustration: THE SECRET SERVICE IN THE HOUSE.
+MR. KING HAS SUSPICIONS OF SOMETHING NEFARIOUS.]
+
+With the spirit of expansion pervading the Head of the Government,
+it is not surprising that the expenditure of the country continues to
+rise. The panting estimators of the Treasury toil after it in vain.
+Mr. McKENNA's passionate plea for a limit to our war-expenditure
+would have carried more weight if he had shown any sign during his
+own time at the Exchequer of being able to impose one. As it was, Mr.
+G.D. FABER'S interjection, "Do you want to limit munitions?" quickly
+reduced him to generalities. The House had to rest content with Mr.
+BONAR LAW'S assurance that, though we could not go on for ever, we
+could go on longer than our enemies.
+
+_Wednesday, July 25th_.--In answer to Mr. PEMBERTON-BILLING the
+UNDER-SECRETARY FOR WAR stated that since the outbreak of hostilities
+there had been forty-seven airship raids and thirty "heavier than air"
+raids upon this country, "making seventy-eight air-raids in all."
+It is believed that the discrepancy is explained by Mr. BILLING'S
+unaccountable omission on one occasion to make a speech.
+
+He made one to-night of prodigious length, which brought him into
+personal collision with Major ARCHER-SHEE. Palace Yard was the
+scene of the combat, which ended, as I understand, in ARCHER downing
+PEMBERTON and BILLING sitting on SHEE. Then the police arrived and
+swept up the hyphens.
+
+Opinions differ as to Mr. KING'S latest performance. Some hold his
+complaint, that the Government had introduced detectives into the
+precincts of the House, to have been perfectly genuine, and point to
+his phrase, "I speak from conviction," as a proof that he was trying
+to revenge himself for personal inconvenience suffered at the hands
+of the minions of the law. Others contend that he knew all the time
+the real reason for their presence--the possibility that Sinn Fein
+emissaries would greet Mr. GINNELL'S impending departure with a
+display of fireworks from the Gallery.
+
+_Thursday, July 26th_.--Mr. GINNELL put in a belated appearance this
+afternoon in order to make a dramatic exit. But the performance lacked
+spontaneity. Indeed honourable Members, even while they laughed, were,
+I think, a little saddened by the sight of this elderly gentleman's
+pathetic efforts to play the martyr.
+
+Only twenty Members agreed with Mr. RAMSAY MACDONALD in believing,
+or affecting to believe, that the recent resolution of the German
+Reichstag was the solemn pronouncement of a sovereign people, and that
+it only requires the endorsement of the British Government to produce
+an immediate and equitable peace. Not much was left of this pleasant
+theory after Mr. ASQUITH had dealt it a few of his sledge-hammer
+blows. "So far as we know," he said, "the influence of the Reichstag,
+not only upon the composition but upon the policy of the German
+Government, remains what it has always been, a practically negligible
+quantity."
+
+Any faint hopes that the pacificists may have cherished of a
+favourable division were destroyed by Mr. SNOWDEN in a speech whose
+character may be judged by the comment passed on it by Mr. O'GRADY,
+just back from Russia, that "LENIN had preached the same doctrine
+in Petrograd."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE REST CURE.
+
+TRIBUNALS PLEASE COPY.
+
+    "It is understood that the French Consul at Lourenco Marques,
+    M. Savoye, has, owing to ill-health, asked his Government to
+    allow him to return to Army duties."--_Cape Times_.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Lady ---- set the fashion of arriving at the altar with empty
+    hands. She is the first bride to have had such an important
+    wedding without the etceteras of bouquet or prayerbook,
+    bridesmaids, pages, or wedding-cake."--_News of the World_.
+
+Far too big a handful.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "150 YEARS AGO--JULY 20, 1767.
+
+    Reports of the borough treasurer of West Ham show a loss of
+    L41,000 on the municipal tramways and a loss of L35,000 on
+    the electricity undertaking."--_Northampton Daily Echo_.
+
+So the eighteenth century was not so much behind the present time as
+we had been led to believe.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Piano wanted by a lady to teach little girl to
+    learn."--_Provincial Paper_.
+
+One of those player-pianos with the new knuckle-rapping attachment,
+we suppose.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Tommy_ (_"mopping up" captured trench_). "IS THERE
+ANYONE DOWN THERE?"
+
+_Voice from dug out_. "JA! JA! KAMERAD!"
+
+_Tommy_. "THEN COME OUT HERE AND FRATERNISE."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MILITARY AIDES.
+
+Last year, owing to the pressure of other engagements, we did not
+mark out the tennis-lawn at "Sunnyside." This year the matter has
+been taken out of our hands by the military powers.
+
+Nevin was the first to think of it.
+
+"What about a game of tennis?" he suggested one bright morning in May.
+"Keep us from going to seed."
+
+It was his second day of leave after three months in the Ypres
+salient, so the change may have been too sudden for him.
+
+"That's a toppin' notion," echoed Bob; "let's raid 'old Beetle's'
+museum and dig out the posts."
+
+So Captain Richard Nevin, R.E., and Second-Lieutenant Robert Simpson,
+R.G.A., took the affair into their own hands.
+
+Having seen the same forces cooperating on previous occasions, I
+determined to keep clear of them. Besides, I am only "old Beetle."
+
+They found the posts in the tool-shed, and, borne upon the initial
+enthusiasm of their venture, began to sink a sort of winze on each
+side of the lawn. Up to this point they were perfectly amicable.
+
+Then Nevin, who is a thoughtful person, said suddenly, "I suppose you
+made quite sure that the line of these posts will cross the centre of
+the court?" And then, before Bob could retort, added, "Of course you
+ought to have made absolutely certain of that. As it is we had better
+leave this and find the corner irons."
+
+Corner irons that have remained undisturbed for some twenty-four
+months have a way of concealing themselves. At the end of ten minutes
+the seekers began to show signs of impatience. Such terms as "angles,"
+"bases," "centres," interspersed with "futilass," "sodamsure,"
+"knowseverything" were cast upon a hazardous breeze.
+
+Eventually they found one of the angles. To the ordinary layman this
+would have meant the beginning of the end. But Captain Richard Nevin
+and Second-Lieutenant Robert Simpson are made of different stuff. They
+scorn the easy path. They have stores of deep knowledge to draw upon
+which place their calculations beyond the ken of ordinary mortals.
+After they had made a searching examination of the exhumed angle, Bob
+pulled out a pencil, prostrated himself behind it and then proceeded
+to gaze ecstatically over the top.
+
+I moved my chair slightly south, and pretended to regard the
+apple-blossom, and when Nevin went into the house and brought out
+something which dimly resembled a ship's sextant I had the extreme
+presence of mind not to make any inquiries.
+
+Margery drifted up with a pink duster.
+
+"What ever are they doing?" she asked.
+
+"Hush!" I whispered; "Bob has just got the range of a supply train on
+the far side of the rockery, and if Nevin (Nevin is the Crown Prince
+of Wurtemberg) doesn't get the longitude of Bob's battery in the next
+minute or so it's all up with his day's rations."
+
+Suddenly Bob rose and made some calculations on an old envelope.
+
+"That means three rounds battery fire," I said, "and the Prince loses
+his lunch."
+
+Not satisfied with this success, Bob went indoors and looted the hall
+of three walking-sticks and Margery's new sunshade.
+
+"What's he going to do now?" said Margery, with one eye on the
+sunshade.
+
+He walked to the far end of the lawn and manoeuvred in a small circle.
+"The water-jackets are boiling," I replied, "and they've run out of
+cold water. He's divining with the sunshade. Look!"
+
+Bob suddenly drove the sunshade into the ground. There was a sharp
+crack and--well, he found another iron. Of course he tried to explain
+to Margery that it was an absolute accident and he only wanted to get
+a sighting post; but that was mere self-effacement, and I said so.
+
+Things began to happen quickly after this, and if Private James
+Thompson had not put in an unexpected appearance they might have
+completed the job without any further difference of opinion.
+
+In the merry days before war was thrust upon us, James Thompson was
+an architect of distinction. Obviously an architect of distinction can
+reduce the difficulty of laying out a tennis-court to an elementary
+and puerile absurdity. For half-an-hour the demonstration was
+carried on in the garden, and, after Private Thompson had twice been
+threatened with arrest for using insubordinate language to a superior,
+it was decided to finish the discussion in my study, assisted by the
+softening influence of the Tantalus.
+
+Not for a hundred pounds would I have ventured into the study.
+I picked up _The Gardening Gazette_ and engrossed myself in an
+interesting piece of scandal about the slug family.
+
+Suddenly Margery appeared at the double.
+
+"Do you know," I exclaimed excitedly, "it was the wireworm after all."
+
+"Come on," Margery panted irrelevantly, "buck up and we can finish it
+before they come out again."
+
+In her hand she held a tape-measure and an official diagram of a
+tennis-court.
+
+Five minutes later the experts emerged from the house.
+
+"Hullo!" exclaimed Nevin aggressively, "what have you been up to?"
+
+"Oh," I replied, flicking over a page on weed-killers, "Margery and I
+thought we had better find the remainder of the tennis-court while you
+were having a rest. Margery's gone for a ball of string, and if Bob
+fetches the marker you can mark the court out now."
+
+Nevin's retort was addressed solely to Private James Thompson, who
+had in an unfortunate moment given way to laughter of an unmilitary
+character.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE AMATEUR DETECTIVE.
+
+{Cartoon, four panels, each with two gentlemen gazing skyward, bombs
+exploding nearby. One is using binoculars.}
+
+First panel: "From its shape--
+
+Second panel: --I should say--
+
+Third panel: --that must be--
+
+Fourth panel: --Enemy Aircraft!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BOYCOTTING THE BARD.
+
+    ["Contributors are particularly requested not to send
+    verses. They are not wanted in any circumstances and cannot
+    be printed, acknowledged or returned."--_British Weekly,
+    July 19th_.]
+
+  I once believed the "Man of Kent"
+    To be the Muses' firm supporter
+  And only less benevolent
+    To bards than Mr. C.K. SHORTER.
+
+  But this untimely cruel blow
+    Has quite irrevocably shattered
+  The hopes which till a week ago
+    My fondest aspirations flattered.
+
+  Wounds that are dealt us by our friends
+    Are faithful, but the name endearing
+  Of friend is hardly his who lends
+    And then denies the bard a hearing.
+
+  How then, O brother songsters, can
+    You take it lying down, and meekly
+  Submit to this tyrannic ban
+    Laid on you by _The British Weekly_?
+
+  No, no, you'll rather emulate
+    The Minstrel Boy, and we shall find you
+  Storming its barred and bolted gate
+    With reams of lyrics slung behind you.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The time is ripe for the authorities to stop all street
+    traffic and to order all unauthorised persons to take cover
+    under penalty at the approach of the air raiders."--_Daily
+    Paper_.
+
+Personally, as a means of shelter we prefer the coal-cellar to any
+penalty.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Will Mr. Russell deny that 660 million gallons of milk
+    were produced in Ireland last year, of which half went
+    to the creameries and more to the margarine factories
+    and to England?"--_Letter in Irish Paper_.
+
+The Irish gallon would appear to be as elastic as the Irish mile.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"DIVISIONAL SIGNS."
+
+The purpose of a Divisional Sign is to deceive the enemy. Let us
+suppose that you belong to the 580th Division, B.E.F. You do not put
+"580" on your waggons and your limbers and on the tin-hats of your
+Staff. Certainly not. The enemy would know about you if you did that.
+You have a secret sign, such as tramps chalk on your wall at home,
+to let other tramps know that you are a stingy devil with a dog.
+There are many theories as to how these signs are chosen. One is
+that a committee of officers sits _in camera_ for forty-eight hours
+without food or drink till it has decided on an arrow or a cat, or
+a dandelion, rampant.
+
+Let us take it that a cat is chosen--a quiet thing in cats--crimson on
+a green-and-white chess-board background. Forthwith (as adjutants say)
+a crimson cat on a green-and-white chess-board background is painted
+and embroidered on everything that can be painted and embroidered
+on--limbers and waggons and hand-carts and arm-bands and the
+tin-hats of the Staff. And the Division goes forth as it were masked,
+disguised, just like one of Mr. LE QUEUX'S diplomatist heroes at a
+fancy-dress ball, wearing a domino. You perceive the mystery of it?
+None of your naked numbers for us B.E.F. men. The Division marches
+through a village, and the dear old Man Who Knows, cropping up again
+in the army, says, "Ha! A red cat on a green-and-white chess-board
+back-ground? That's the Seventeenth Division."
+
+You see it now? The enemy agent overhears. The false news is sent
+crackling through the ether to Berlin (wireless, my dear, in the
+cellar, of course). The German General Staff looks up the village on
+a map, and sticks into it a flag marked 17. Not 580, mark you. And
+the General Staff frowns, and Majesty pushes the ends of its moustache
+into its eyes at the knowledge that the Seventeenth Division is in
+----.
+
+And all the time it is in ----! And the agent pockets his cheque. So
+wars are won and lost.
+
+Just conceive the romance of it. It is heraldry gone mad.
+
+Myself, however, I incline to another theory as to the origin of these
+symbols.
+
+A Higher Command enters his office. Higher Commands always enter. The
+office is hung, like a studio in one of Mr. GEORGE MORROW'S pictures,
+with diagrams of circles and triangles and crosses and straight lines.
+The Higher Command, being a man of like passions with ourselves,
+has just finished tinned Oxford marmalade and a cigarette. He heads
+for the "IN" basket on his desk and takes from it the "Arrivals and
+Departures" paper. "Ha!" says he to the lady secretary, "I see six
+new divisions landed yesterday." He pauses. Outside there is no sound
+to be heard save the loud and continuous crash of the sentry's hand
+against his rifle as he salutes the passing A.D.C.'s. "What about
+signs?" says the Higher Command. The lady secretary says nothing. She
+floods the carburettor of the typewriter preparatory to thumping out
+"Ref. attached correspondence" on it.
+
+The Higher Command stares at the diagrams on the wall. He is feeling
+strangely light-hearted this morning. He has won five francs at bridge
+the night before from the D.A.D.M.O. A.D.G.S. And mere circles and
+squares have somehow lost their savour for him. He plunges. "What
+about a lion?" he says.
+
+The lady secretary opens the throttle and plays a few bars on the
+"cap." key.
+
+"A red lion?" says the Higher Command seductively.
+
+"It has already been done," says the lady secretary coldly.
+
+"Who by--I mean by whom?" inquires the H.C. indignantly.
+
+"By the Deputy Assistant Director of Higher Commands, when you were
+on leave last week," she tells him.
+
+He mutters a military oath against the D.A.D.H.C. Then his face
+clears.
+
+"Tigers?" he suggests hopefully.
+
+"We might do a green tiger," she says reluctantly.
+
+"With yellow stripes!" shouts the H.C.
+
+"On a mauve background," says she, warming to it.
+
+And so one division is disposed of. But it is not always so, of
+course.
+
+After a Hun counter-attack, for instance, the H.C. may gaze morosely
+on his geometrical figures and throw off a little thing in triangles
+and St. Andrew's crosses. Or when the moon is at the full you may
+have a violet allotted to you as your symbol. One never knows. My
+own divisional sign, for instance, is an iddy-umpty plain on a field
+plainer. We vary the heraldry by ringing changes on the colours. On
+our brigade arm-band it becomes an iddy-umpty gules on a field azure.
+If I could be quite sure of the heraldic slang for puce I would tell
+you what it is on our Army Corps arm-band. On a waggon it used to be
+an iddy-umpty blank on a field muddy. But administrative genius has
+changed all that. A routine order, the other day, ordered a pink
+border to be painted round it, and this first simple essay of the
+departed Morse goes now through the villages of France in a bed of
+roses.
+
+We wish sometimes that our conditions were changed as easily as our
+signs.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Dugal._ "I DOOT, TAMMAS, THERE'S SOME INFORMEESHUN
+THAT MAN LLOYD GEORGE HAS GOT THAT WE HAVENA GOT."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ANOTHER IMPENDING APOLOGY.
+
+    "The Lord Provost will preside over the meeting at which Mr.
+    Churchill will speak in Dundee this afternoon.
+
+    Many thousands of people are leaving Dundee for their annual
+    holiday."--_Manchester Daily Dispatch_.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Mr. Alderman Domoney, in remanding at the Guildhall to-day
+    two boys charged with theft, said he always liked to deal
+    leniently with boys so young and to give the ma fresh start
+    in life."--_Evening Paper_.
+
+Not a word about the pa, you observe; yet we daresay he was equally
+responsible.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+From the Orders of a Battalion in France:--
+
+    "The undermentioned N.C.O.'s and men will parade at 10.30
+    a.m., bringing with them their gas-helmets and the unexpired
+    portion of their rations."
+
+It is surmised that this refers to the cheese-issue.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Basil_. "MUMMY, AREN'T WE EXCEEDING THE SPEED
+RATION?"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BULLINGTON.
+
+  It was in the high midsummer and the sun was shining strong,
+  And the lane was rather flinty and the lane was rather long,
+  When, up and down the gentle hills beside the stripling Test,
+  I chanced to come to Bullington and stayed a while to rest.
+
+  It was drowned in peace and quiet, as the river reeds were drowned
+  In the water clear as crystal, flowing by with scarce a sound;
+  And the air was like a posy with the sweet haymaking smells,
+  And the Roses and Sweet-Williams and Canterbury Bells.
+
+  Far away as some strange planet seemed the old world's dust and din,
+  And the trout in sun-warmed shallows hardly seemed to stir a fin,
+  And there's never a clock to tell you how the hurrying world goes on
+  In the little ivied steeple down in drowsy Bullington.
+
+  Small and sleepy there it nestled, seeming far from hastening Time,
+  As a teeny-tiny village in some quaint old nursery rhyme,
+  And a teeny-tiny river by a teeny-tiny weir
+  Sang a teeny-tiny ditty that I stayed a while to hear:--
+
+  "Oh the stream runs to the river and the river to the sea;
+  But the reedy banks of Bullington are good enough for me;
+  Oh the road runs to the highway and the highway o'er the down,
+  But it's just as good in Bullington as mighty London town."
+
+  Then high above an aeroplane in humming flight went by,
+  With the droning of its engines filling all the cloudless sky;
+  And like the booming of a knell across that perfect day
+  There came the guns' dull thunder from the ranges far away.
+
+  And, while I lay and listened, oh the river's sleepy tune
+  Seemed to change its rippling music, like the cuckoo's stave in June,
+  And the cannon's distant thunder and the engines' warlike drone
+  Seemed to mingle with its burthen in a solemn undertone:--
+
+  "Oh the stream runs to the river, and the river to the sea,
+  And there's war on land and water, and there's work for you and me;
+  And on many a field of glory there are gallant lives laid down
+  As well for sleepy Bullington as mighty London Town."
+
+  So I roused me from my daydream, for I knew the song spoke true,
+  That it isn't time for dreaming while there's duty still to do;
+  And I turned into the highroad where it meets the flinty lane,
+  And the world of wars and sorrows was about me once again.
+
+  C.F.S.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+REMEMBRANCE.
+
+"Stop, Francesca," I cried. "Don't talk; don't budge; don't blink.
+Give me time. I've all but--"
+
+"What _are_ you up to?" she said.
+
+"There," I said, "you've done it. I had it on the tip of my tongue,
+and now it has gone back for ever into the limbo of forgotten things,
+and all because you couldn't keep silent for the least little fraction
+of a second."
+
+"My poor dear," she said, "I _am_ sorry. But why didn't you tell me
+you were trying to remember something?"
+
+"That," I said, "would have been just as fatal to it. These things are
+only remembered in an atmosphere of perfect silence. The mental effort
+must have room to develop."
+
+"Don't tell me," she said tragically, "that I have checked the
+development of a mental effort. That would be too awful."
+
+"Well," I said, "that's exactly what you _have_ done, that and nothing
+less. I feel just as if I'd tried to go upstairs where there wasn't a
+step."
+
+"Or downstairs."
+
+"Yes," I said, "it's equally painful and dislocating."
+
+"But you're not the only one," she said, "who's forgotten things. I've
+done quite a lot in that line myself. I've forgotten the measles and
+sugar and Lord RHONDDA and the Irish trouble and your Aunt Matilda,
+and where I left my _pince-nez_ and what's become of the letters I
+received this morning, and whom I promised to meet where and when to
+talk over what. You needn't think you're the only forgetter in the
+world. I can meet you on that and any other ground."
+
+"But," I said, "the thing you made me forget--"
+
+"I didn't."
+
+"You did."
+
+"No, for you hadn't remembered it."
+
+"Well, anyhow I shall put it on to you, and I want you to realise that
+it's not like one of your trivialities--"
+
+"This man," said Francesca, "refers to his Aunt Matilda and Lord
+RHONDDA as trivialities."
+
+"It is not," I continued inexorably, "like one of your trivialities.
+It's a most important thing, and it begins with a 'B.'"
+
+"Are you sure of that?"
+
+"Yes, I'm sure it begins with a 'B'--or perhaps a 'W.' Yes, I'm sure
+it's a 'W' now."
+
+"I'm going," said Francesca with enthusiasm, "to coax that word or
+thing, or whatever it is, back to the tip of your tongue and beyond
+it. So let's have all you know about it. Firstly, then, it begins with
+a 'W.'"
+
+"Yes, it begins with a 'W,' and I feel it's got something to do with
+Lord RHONDDA."
+
+"That doesn't help much. So far as I can see, everything now is more
+or less nearly connected with Lord RHONDDA."
+
+"But my forgotten thing isn't bread or meat. It's something remoter."
+
+"Is it Mr. KENNEDY-JONES?" said Francesca. "He's just resigned, you
+know."
+
+"No, it's not Mr. KENNEDY-JONES. How could it be? Mr. KENNEDY-JONES
+doesn't begin with a 'W.'"
+
+"If I were you, I shouldn't insist too much on that 'W.' I should keep
+it in the background, for it's about ten to one you'll find in the
+end that it doesn't begin with a 'W.' At any rate we've made two short
+advances; we know it isn't Mr. KENNEDY-JONES, because he doesn't begin
+with a 'W,' and we are not very sure that it begins with a 'W.'"
+
+"Keep quiet," I said, flushing with anticipation. "I'm getting it ...
+your last remark has put me on the track.... Silence.... Ah ... it's
+_DEVONSHIRE CREAM!_ There--I've got it at last. I feel an overwhelming
+desire for Devonshire cream."
+
+"The sort that begins with a 'W.'"
+
+"Well, it's got a 'V' in it, anyhow."
+
+"And it isn't Devonshire cream at all. It's really Cornish cream--at
+least Mary Penruddock says it is."
+
+"Cornish or Devonshire, that's what I must have, if Lord RHONDDA'S
+rules allow it."
+
+"All right, I'll get you a pot or two if I can. But are you sure you
+won't forget it again?"
+
+"If I do," I said, "I can always remember it by the W.'"
+
+R.C.L.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE CHANGE CURE.
+
+    ["The only way to make domestic service popular is for
+    a duchess to become a tweeny-maid."--_Evening Paper_.]
+
+  It may be that a modern _Mene, Mene_
+  Will force the Duchess to become a tweeny;
+  But, ere this democratic transformation
+  Secures the "old nobility's" salvation,
+  Some other changes are not less but more
+  Needful to aid our progress in the War.
+
+  For instance, with what rapture were we blest
+  If Some-one gave his nimble tongue a rest
+  And, turning Trappist, stanched the fearsome gush
+  Of egotistic and thrasonic slush;
+  Or if Lord X. eschewed his daily speeches
+  And took to canning Californian peaches;
+  Or if egregious LYNCH could but abstain
+  From "ruining along the illimitable inane"
+  At Question-time, and try to render PLATO'S
+  _Republic_ into Erse, or grow potatoes;
+  Or if our novelists wrote cheerful books,
+  Instead of joining those superfluous cooks
+  Who spoil our daily journalistic broth
+  By lashing it into a fiery froth.
+
+  Counsels of sheer perfection, you will say,
+  In times when ev'ry mad dog has his day,
+  Yet none the less inviting as the theme
+  Of a millennial visionary's dream.
+
+  And as for Duchesses turned tweeny-maids
+  Or following other unobtrusive trades
+  There's nothing very wonderful or new
+  Or difficult to credit in the view;
+  For DICKENS--whom I never fail to bless
+  For solace in these days of storm and stress--
+  Found his best slavey in _The Marchioness_.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+WHO INVENTED THE NAME "SAMMIES"?
+
+    "They are 'Sammies' now, and the name probably will stick
+    along with 'Tommy,' 'poilu' and 'Fritz.' ... The christening
+    was one of those spontaneous affairs, coming nobody knows
+    how."--_Kansas City Star_.
+
+Mr. Punch, ever reluctant to take credit to himself, feels
+nevertheless bound to say that the suggestion of the name "Sammies"
+for our American Allies appeared in his columns as long ago as June
+13th. On page 384 of that issue (after quoting _The Daily News_ as
+having said, "We shall want a name for the American 'Tommies' when
+they come; but do not call them 'Yankees'; they none of them like it")
+he wrote: "As a term of distinction and endearment, Mr. Punch suggests
+'Sammies'--after their uncle."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "London.-- ---- House. Bed, breakfast 4s., per week 24s. 6d.
+    No other meals at present."
+
+This should encourage the FOOD-CONTROLLER.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _Transport Officer_. "CONFOUND IT, MAN! WHAT ARE YOU
+DOING? DON'T TEASE THE ANIMALS!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+(_BY MR. PUNCH'S STAFF OF LEARNED CLERKS_.)
+
+HANSI, the Alsatian caricaturist and patriot, who escaped a few months
+before the War, after being condemned by the German courts to fifteen
+months' imprisonment for playing off an innocent little joke on four
+German officers, and did his share of fighting with the French in the
+early part of the War, is the darling of the Boulevards. They adore
+his supreme skill in thrusting the irritating lancet of his humour
+into bulging excrescences on the flank of that monstrous pachyderm
+of Europe, the German. _Professor Knatschke_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON),
+aptly translated by Professor R.L. CREWE, is a joyous rag. It purports
+to be the correspondence of a Hun Professor, full of an egregious
+self-sufficiency and humourlessness and greatly solicitous for the
+unhappy Alsatian who is ignorant and misguided enough to prefer the
+Welsch (i.e. foreign) "culture-swindle" to the glorious paternal
+Kultur of the German occupation. And HANSI illustrates his witty text
+with as witty and competent a pencil. HANSI has, in effect, the full
+status of an Ally all by himself. He adds out of the abundance of his
+heart a diary and novel by _Knatschke's_ daughter, _Elsa_, full of
+the artless sentimentality of the German virgin. It is even better fun
+than the Professor's part of the business. Naturally the full flavour
+of both jokes must be missed by the outsider. HANSI is the more
+effective in that he chuckles quietly, never guffaws and never rails.
+Fun of the best.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There is not much left for me to say in praise of Mr. JACK LONDON'S
+dog-stories; and anyhow, if his name on the cover of _Jerry of the
+Islands_ (MILLS AND BOON) is not enough, no persuasion of mine
+will induce you to read it. Those of us to whom dogs are merely
+animals--just that--will find this history of an Irish terrier dull
+enough; but others who have in their time given their "heart to a dog
+to tear" will recognise and joyously welcome Mr. LONDON'S sympathetic
+understanding of his hero. _Jerry's_ adventurous life as here told
+was spent in the Solomon Islands, which is not, I gather, the most
+civilized part of the globe. He had been brought up to dislike
+niggers, and when he disliked anyone he did not hesitate to show his
+feelings and his teeth. So it is possible that for some tastes he
+left his marks a little too frequently; but in the end he thoroughly
+justified his inclination to indulge in what looked like unprovoked
+attacks upon bare legs. For unless he had kept his teeth in by
+constant practice he might never have contrived to save his beloved
+master and mistress from a very cowardly and crafty attack. Good dog,
+_Jerry_!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I admit that the fact of its publishers having branded _The Road to
+Understanding_ (CONSTABLE) as "A Pure Love Story" did not increase the
+hopes with which I opened it. Let me however hasten also to admit that
+half of it certainly bettered expectation. That was the first half,
+in which _Burke Denby_, the heir to (dollar) millions, romantically
+defied his father and married his aunt's nursery governess, and
+immediately started to live the reverse of happy-ever after. All this,
+the contrast between ideals in a mansion and love in a jerry-built
+villa, and the thousand ways in which _Mrs. Denby_ got upon her
+husband's nerves and generally blighted his existence, are told with
+an excellently human and sympathetic understanding, upon which I make
+my cordial congratulations to Miss ELEANOR H. PORTER. But because
+the book, however human, belongs, after all, to the category of "Best
+Sellers" it appears to have been found needful to furbish up this
+excellent matter with an incredible ending. That _Mrs. Denby_ should
+retire with her infant to Europe, in order to educate herself to her
+husband's level, I did not mind. This thing has been done before now
+even in real life. But that, on returning after the lapse of years,
+she should introduce the now grown-up daughter, unrecognised, as
+secretary to her father! "Somehow ... you remind me strangely.... Tell
+me of your parents." "My daddy ... I never knew him." Or words to that
+effect. It is all there, spoiling a tale that deserved better.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The voracious novel-reader is apt to hold detective stories in the
+same regard that the Scotchman is supposed to entertain towards
+whisky--some are better than others, but there are no really bad ones.
+_The Pointing Man_ (HUTCHINSON) is better than most, in the first
+place because it takes us "east of Suez"--a pleasant change from
+the four-mile radius to which the popular sleuths of fiction mostly
+confine their activities; and, secondly, because it combines a maximum
+of sinister mystery with a minimum of actual bloodshed; and, lastly,
+because our credulity is not strained unduly either by the superhuman
+ingenuity of the hunter or an excess of diabolical cunning on the part
+of the quarry. Otherwise the story possesses the usual features. There
+is the clever young detective, in whose company we expectantly scour
+the bazaars and alleys of Mangadone in search of a missing boy. There
+are Chinamen and Burmese, opium dens and curio shops, temples and
+go-downs. Miss MARJORIE DOUIE has more than a superficial knowledge
+of her stage setting, and gets plenty of movement and colour into
+it. And if she has elaborated the characters and inter-play of her
+Anglo-Burmese colony to an extent that is not justified either by
+their connection with the plot or the necessity of mystifying the
+reader we must forgive her because she does it very well--so well
+indeed that we may hope to see _The Pointing Man_, excellent as it is
+in its way, succeeded by a contribution to Anglo-Oriental literature
+that will do ampler justice to Miss DOUIE'S unquestionable gifts.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Our writers appear willing converts to my own favourite theory that
+the public is, like a child, best pleased to hear the tales that it
+already knows by heart. The latest exponent of this is the lady who
+prefers to be called only "The Author of _An Odd Farmhouse_." Her new
+little book, _Your Unprofitable Servant_ (WESTALL), is a record of
+domestic happenings and impressions during the early phases of the
+War. The thing is skilfully done, and in the result carries you with
+interest from page to page; though (as I hint) the history of those
+August days, when Barbarism came forth to battle and Civilisation
+regretfully unpacked its holiday suit-cases, can hardly appeal now
+with the freshness of revelation. Still, the writer brings undeniable
+gifts to her more than twice-told tale. She has, for example,
+perception and a turn of phrase very pleasant, as when she speaks
+of the shops in darkened London conducting the last hour of business
+under lowered awnings, "as if it were a liaison." There are many such
+rewarding passages, some perhaps a little facile, but, taken together,
+quite enough to make this unpretentious little volume a very agreeable
+companion for the few moments of leisure which are all that most of us
+can get in these strenuous days.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I enjoyed at a pleasant sitting the whole of Mr. FRANK SWINNERTON'S
+_Nocturne_ (SECKER). I don't quite know (and I don't see how
+the author can quite know) whether his portraits of pretty
+self-willed _Jenny_ and plain love-hungry _Emmy_, the daughters
+of the superannuated iron-moulder, are true to life, but they are
+extraordinarily plausible. Not a word or a mood or a move in the
+inter-play of five characters in four hours of a single night, the
+two girls and "_Pa_," and _Alf_ and _Keith_, the sailor and almost
+gentleman who was _Jenny's_ lover, seemed to me out of place. The
+little scene in the cabin of the yacht between _Jenny_ and _Keith_
+is a quite brilliant study in selective realism. Take the trouble to
+look back on the finished chapters and see how much Mr. SWINNERTON has
+told you in how few strokes, and you will realise the fine and precise
+artistry of this attractive volume. I can see the lights, the silver
+and the red glow of the wine; and I follow the flashes and pouts
+and tearful pride of _Jenny_, and _Keith's_ patient, embarrassed,
+masterful wooing as if I had been shamefully eavesdropping.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_Fool Divine_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) stands to some extent in
+a position unique among novels in that its heroine is also its
+villainess, or at least the wrecker of its hero. _Nevile del Varna_,
+the lady in question, is indeed the only female character in the
+tale, and has therefore naturally to work double tides. What happened
+was that young _Christopher_, a superman and hero, dedicate, as a
+volunteer, to the unending warfare of science against the evil goddess
+of the Tropics, yellow fever, met this more human divinity when on
+his journey to the scene of action, and, like a more celebrated
+predecessor, "turned aside to her." Then, naturally enough, when
+_Nevile_ has gotten him for her husband and when love of her has
+caused him to abandon his project of self-sacrifice, she repays
+him with scorn. And as the unhappy _Christopher_ already scorns
+himself the rest of the book (till the final chapters) is a record
+of deterioration more clever than exactly cheerful. The moral of it
+all being, I suppose, that if you are wedded to an ideal you should
+beware of taking to yourself a mortal wife, for that means bigamy.
+Incidentally the book contains some wonderfully impressive pictures of
+tropical life and of the general beastliness of existence on a rubber
+plantation. At the end, as I have indicated, regeneration comes for
+_Christopher_--though I will not reveal just how this happens. There
+is also a subsidiary interest in the revolutionary affairs of Cuba,
+which the much-employed _Nevile_ appears to manage, as a local Joan of
+Arc, in her spare moments; and altogether the book can be recommended
+as one that will at least take you well away from the discomforts of
+here and now.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: TALE OF A GREAT OFFENSIVE.
+
+"'E SEZ TO ME, 'YOU'LL GET A THICK EAR!' I SEZ, 'WHO?' 'E SEZ, 'YOU!'
+I SEZ, 'ME?' 'E SEZ 'YUS!' I SEZ 'HO!'"]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
+153, August 1, 1917., by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH VOL 153 ***
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