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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, May 7, 1919.</title>
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12079 ***</div>
+
+<h1>PUNCH,<br />
+OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1>
+<h2>Vol. 156.</h2>
+<hr class="full" />
+<h2>May 7, 1919.</h2>
+<hr class="full" />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page353" id="page353"></a>[pg
+353]</span>
+<h2>CHARIVARIA</h2>
+.
+<p>No enthusiasm attended the recent revival of the curious May Day
+custom of dancing round the snow man.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>Since the Muzzling Order, says a weekly paper, fewer postmen in
+the West End have been bitten by dogs. We are asked by the Dogs'
+Trade Union to point out that this is not due to the Muzzling
+Order, but to the fact that just at present there is a fine supply
+of dairy-fed milkmen in that district.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>A negress has just died in South America, aged 136. It is
+supposed that the exodus of so many of her descendants to London on
+account of the great demand for Jazz-band players was largely
+responsible for hastening her end.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>According to a local paper an American officer refused to stay
+at a seaside hotel during Easter-time because a flea hopped on to
+the visitors' book whilst he was in the act of signing it. We agree
+that it is certainly rather alarming when these unwelcome intruders
+adopt such methods of espionage in order to discover which room one
+is about to occupy.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>The Society of Public Analysts declares that it is impossible to
+tell what animal or what part of it is contained in a sausage. We
+gather that it all depends on whether the beast is backed into the
+machine or enticed into it with a sardine.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>The British people still feel themselves the victors, so Mr.
+RAMSAY MACDONALD told the <i>Vossische Zeitung</i>. Not Mr.
+MACDONALD'S fault, of course.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>London butchers have protested against being compelled to sell
+Chilian, Brazilian, Manchurian <i>and other</i> beef. A simple way
+to distinguish "other beef" from Manchurian beef is to offer it to
+the cat. If it eats it, it is neither.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>The Board of Agriculture claims that since 1914 eleven thousand
+persons have been taught to make cheese. It is admitted, however,
+that as the result of inexperience the mortality among young
+cheeses has been enormous.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>The Labour Party are submitting a Motion in the House of Commons
+for the reduction of railway fares. An alternative suggestion that
+passengers should be allowed to pay the extra shilling or two and
+buy the train outright will probably be put forward.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>The sum of &pound;15,650 has just been paid for the lease of a
+West End flat, says a contemporary. If this includes use of the
+bath, it seems a bit of a bargain.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>We gather from an American newspaper that shooting for the new
+Mexican Presidency has commenced.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>An East End fishmonger is reported to have sold fish at one
+penny a pound. The controlled price being much higher, several
+trade rivals have offered to bear the expense of a doctor for this
+man as they feel that something may be pressing on his brain.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>A Berlin message indicates that the man who shot KURT EISNER has
+again been assassinated by the Spartacists. This, of course, cannot
+be the end of the business. The last and positively final execution
+of the man still rests with the German Government.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>There has never been a case of rabies in Scotland, says <i>The
+Evening News</i>. This speaks well for the bagpipes as a defensive
+weapon.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>According to a Boston message some Americans gave Admiral WOOD,
+U.S. Navy, a very cool reception the other day. In shaking hands
+with him they only broke seven small bones.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>We are pleased to be able to say that the recently demobilised
+soldier who accidentally swallowed some "plum and apple" in a
+London restaurant is well on the road to recovery.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>The number of hot-cross-bun specialists who, since Easter, have
+been in receipt of unemployment pay has not yet been disclosed for
+publication.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>A dog has returned to its home at Walsworth after being absent
+for two months. It is feared that he has been leading a double
+life.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>"Throughout the country," says a well-known daily paper, "the
+hedges and trees are now budding forth into green leaves." This, we
+understand, is according to precedent.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>"Is your rent raised?" asks a contemporary. With difficulty, if
+he <i>must</i> know.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>Newcastle Justices have extinguished eight licences for
+redundancy. There is no reason for supposing that the offence was
+intentional.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>The report that the prehistoric flint axe recently found at
+Ascot had been claimed by Sir FREDERICK BANBURY, M.P., is denied.
+Sir FREDERICK, it appears, merely expressed warm approval of
+it.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>The Manchester Parks Committee is considering the question of
+opening the Municipal Golf Links for Sunday play. It is contended
+that the more anti-Sabbatarian features of the game could be
+eliminated by allowing players to pick out of a bunker without
+penalty.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>Much advice has recently appeared in the Press regarding the
+treatment of bites received from mad dogs, and in consequence there
+is a movement on foot among Missionaries to obtain some information
+regarding the best method of treating the bite of a cannibal.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>A Chicago woman has been charged with attempting to shoot her
+husband with a jewelled and gold-handled revolver. We are pleased
+to note that the American authorities are determined to put down
+such ostentation.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>It has come to our ears that a certain Conscientious Objector
+now feels so ashamed of his refusal to fight that he has
+practically decided to take boxing lessons by post.</p>
+<hr />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href=
+"images/353.png"><img width="100%" src="images/353.png" alt=
+"WHAT'S THAT THING YOU'VE GOT ON, ALBERT?" /></a>
+<p>"WHAT'S THAT THING YOU'VE GOT ON, ALBERT?"</p>
+<p>"TRENCH COAT."</p>
+<p>"BUT YOU'VE NEVER BEEN IN THE TRENCHES."</p>
+<p>"I KNOW. THAT'S THE IDEA."</p>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page354" id="page354"></a>[pg
+354]</span>
+<h2>LETTERS TO PEOPLE I DON'T KNOW.</h2>
+<p class="center"><i>(No answers required, thank you.)</i></p>
+<p class="center"><i>To Count Brockdorff-Rantzau, Head of the German Peace
+Delegation.</i></p>
+<p>The enthralling volume, entitled <i>Preliminary Terms of
+Peace</i>, on which your attention is being engrossed at the
+present moment, is said to be of the same length as <i>A Tale of
+Two Cities</i>. In other respects there is little resemblance
+traceable between the two works. A more striking likeness is to be
+found between the present volume and a document produced (also in
+the neighbourhood of Paris) by the late Prince BISMARCK in 1871. On
+your return home, if the fancy appeals to you, you might, out of
+these two publications, construct a very readable romance and call
+it <i>Two Tales of One City</i>. I think this would be a better
+name for it than <i>Vice-Versailles.</i></p>
+<p class="center"><i>To Signor Orlando</i>.</p>
+<p>Apart from our love for Italy we are, of course, naturally
+prejudiced in favour of a man who got his surname from one of our
+own SHAKSPEARE'S heroes, and has consequently given us several easy
+chances of making little <i>As-you-like-it</i> jokes for the Press
+in our simple unsophisticated way. All the same I think you were
+wrong in dropping out of the Big Four like that. If every other
+Allied delegate were to go off home whenever he couldn't get his
+own way, or whenever he differed from President WILSON, there might
+be nobody left to meet the German representatives or to sign any
+sort of Peace terms. The enemy might even start a Big Four of their
+own and begin to talk. What should we do then? We might have to
+send for Marshal FOCH. I'm not sure that in any case this wouldn't
+be the best plan.</p>
+<p>But perhaps you will be back in Paris before this letter reaches
+you. All roads lead to Rome, and there must be at least one that
+leads out of it again.</p>
+<p class="center"><i>To Ferdinand, Fox</i>.</p>
+<p>If news of the outside world ever reaches you in your earth, and
+you read the discussions on the question whether your old friend
+WILLIAM ought to be hanged, it can hardly have escaped Your
+Nosiness that nothing is said about your own claim to similar
+treatment. Those who never rightly appreciated you may imagine that
+you will meekly consent to forgo that claim. But, if I know
+anything of your proud and princely nature, you are, on the other
+hand, bitterly chagrined at the thought that you have been
+forgotten so soon.</p>
+<p class="center"><i>To a British "Sportsman</i>."</p>
+<p>I have often seen you of an afternoon in war-time hanging about
+in groups along my workaday street, poring over what you regarded
+as the vital news of the day. It was not a report of any battle in
+which your brothers were fighting, and, if I had asked you
+breathlessly, "Who won?" you would not have said, "The British";
+you would have said, "SOLLY JOEL'S colt." You had never seen the
+horse, but you had half-a-dollar of your War-bonus on him, or more
+probably on one of those who also ran. To-day there are no silly
+battles to take up good space in your evening print; and, better
+still, there is no day without its racing matter; no more
+curtailing of the King of Sports to the lamentable detriment of our
+national horse-breeding, a subject so close to your heart. The War
+is indeed well over.</p>
+<p>And nothing can be more gratifying to you than to note the rapid
+progress of Reconstruction in the domain of the Turf. In other
+spheres of activity there may be a million people drawing the
+unemployment donation; but here there is immediate occupation for
+all. The New Jerusalem has been built in a day.</p>
+<p class="center"><i>To Peace</i>.</p>
+<p>You must not mind if, when you come at last, we treat you like
+an anti-climax. You see, we let ourselves go, once for all, over
+the Armistice, and, though there will be plenty of celebrations for
+you, we shan't forget ourselves again. There will be bands, of
+course, and bunting, and we shall read the directions in the
+papers, and buy expensive tickets and get to our seats early. But
+we shall be respectable and inarticulate this time, like the
+present exhibition at the Royal Academy. Besides, we have no nice
+things to shout when the pageants go by, like "<i>Vive la
+Victoire</i>!" or "<i>Viva la Pace!</i>" and even if we had we
+should all wait for somebody else to start shouting them.</p>
+<p>But you are not to be disappointed; we shall really be glad to
+welcome you, though we do it in that strange way we have of taking
+everything as it comes.</p>
+<p>I suppose you are bound to assist at your own celebrations,
+otherwise I should recommend you to be content to read about them
+next day&mdash;about the thundering cheers, the wild enthusiasm
+that swept like a flame through the vast multitudes, and how "the
+red glare on Skiddaw roused the Canon (RAWNSLEY) of Carlisle."</p>
+<p class="center"><i>To a Multi-Millionaire.</i></p>
+<p>It must be a great satisfaction to you to see how highly the
+CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER appreciates the loss which the country
+will sustain by your eventual decease; and that he has proposed to
+increase materially the amount to be raised out of your estate as a
+national souvenir of your commercial activities. Indeed you may
+reflect that, splendid and profitable as your life has been,
+nothing in it will have become you so much as the leaving of it.
+With such a thought in your mind the prospect of death should be
+robbed of a large proportion of its sting.</p>
+<p class="center"><i>To a New Knight (Scots).</i></p>
+<p>Out of the eight hundred million pounds' worth of Government
+material left over from the War, of which two hundred million
+pounds' worth is expected to be realised in the current year, you
+should have no difficulty in securing a pair of knightly spurs at
+quite a reasonable price. They ought to go well with a kilt.</p>
+<p class="center"><i>To the Chairman of the "Soci&eacute;t&eacute;
+des Bains de Mer de Monaco</i>."</p>
+<p>Few people can have been better pleased than you at the
+cessation of hostilities. During all those terrible years the
+falling-off among the patrons of your world-famous
+bathing-establishment must have been a source of cruel grief to
+you. And now there are already myriads who have washed away the
+stains of war in the pellucid waves that lap your coast of
+azure.</p>
+<p>Here, too, at your hospitable Board of Green Cloth there is
+forgetfulness of Armageddon save when the cry of "Z&eacute;ro"
+recalls to the convalescent British warrior the fateful hour for
+going over the top.</p>
+<p>And to think of Monte Carlo without the guttural Hun and his
+raucous "<i>Dass ist mein</i>" as he swoops upon his disputed
+spoils! An Eden with the worm away!</p>
+<p><i>&Agrave; bient&ocirc;t</i>!</p>
+<p class="author">O.S.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"PUBLIC SCHOOLS' HIGH JUMP CHALLENGE CUP.&mdash;E.C. Archer
+(Merchant Taylors'), 5 ft. 4 in. (unfinished), 1."&mdash;<i>The
+Times</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>We are glad to have later advices which state that he has
+returned to earth safely.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"Alabaster Lady's Evening Cigarette Case, lid and hinges set
+with diamonds; left in taxi."&mdash;<i>Advt. in "The
+Times."</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>We trust the alabaster lady has by now regained her property and
+with it her marmoreal calm.</p>
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page355" id="page355"></a>[pg
+355]</span>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href=
+"images/355.png"><img width="100%" src="images/355.png" alt=
+"IMPERIAL PREFERENCE." /></a>
+<h3>IMPERIAL PREFERENCE.</h3>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page356" id="page356"></a>[pg
+356]</span>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href=
+"images/356.png"><img width="100%" src="images/356.png" alt=
+"THEY 'ALSO RUN' WHO ONLY STAND AND WAIT." /></a>"THEY 'ALSO RUN'
+WHO ONLY STAND AND WAIT."</div>
+<hr />
+<h2>THE ARRIVAL OF BLACKMAN'S WARBLER.</h2>
+<p>I am become an Authority on Birds. It happened in this way.</p>
+<p>The other day we heard the Cuckoo in Hampshire. (The next
+morning the papers announced that the Cuckoo had been heard in
+Devonshire&mdash;possibly a different one, but in no way superior
+to ours except in the matter of its Press agent.) Well, everybody
+in the house said, "Did you hear the Cuckoo?" to everybody else,
+until I began to get rather tired of it; and, having told everybody
+several times that I <i>had</i> heard it, I tried to make the
+conversation more interesting. So, after my tenth "Yes," I added
+quite casually:&mdash;</p>
+<p>"But I haven't heard the Tufted Pipit yet. It's funny why it
+should be so late this year."</p>
+<p>"Is that the same as the Tree Pipit?" said my hostess, who
+seemed to know more about birds than I had hoped.</p>
+<p>"Oh, no," I said confidently.</p>
+<p>"What's the difference exactly?"</p>
+<p>"Well, one is tufted," I said, doing my best, "and the
+other&mdash;er&mdash;climbs trees."</p>
+<p>"Oh, I see."</p>
+<p>"And of course the eggs are more speckled," I added, gradually
+acquiring confidence.</p>
+<p>"I often wish I knew more about birds," she said regretfully.
+"You must tell us something about them now we've got you here."</p>
+<p>And all this because of one miserable Cuckoo!</p>
+<p>"By all means," I said, wondering how long it would take to get
+a book about birds down from London.</p>
+<p>However, it was easier than I thought. We had tea in the garden
+that afternoon, and a bird of some kind struck up in the
+plane-tree.</p>
+<p>"There, now," said my hostess, "what's that?"</p>
+<p>I listened with my head on one side. The bird said it again.</p>
+<p>"That's the Lesser Bunting," I said hopefully.</p>
+<p>"The Lesser Bunting," said an earnest-looking girl; "I shall
+always remember that."</p>
+<p>I hoped she wouldn't, but I could hardly say so. Fortunately the
+bird lesser-bunted again, and I seized the opportunity of playing
+for safety.</p>
+<p>"Or is it the Sardinian White-throat?" I wondered. "They have
+very much the same note during the breeding season. But of course
+the eggs are more speckled," I added casually.</p>
+<p>And so on for the rest of the evening. You see how easy it
+is.</p>
+<p>However the next afternoon a most unfortunate occurrence
+occurred. A real Bird Authority came to tea. As soon as the
+information leaked out I sent up a hasty prayer for bird-silence
+until we had got him safely out of the place; but it was not
+granted. Our feathered songster in the plane-tree broke into his
+little piece.</p>
+<p>"There," said my hostess&mdash;"there's that bird again." She
+turned to me. "What did you say it was?"</p>
+<p>I hoped that the Authority would speak first, and that the
+others would then accept my assurance that they had misunderstood
+me the day before; but he was entangled at that moment in a
+watercress sandwich, the loose ends of which were still waiting to
+be tucked away.</p>
+<p>I looked anxiously at the girl who had promised to remember, in
+case she wanted to say something, but she also was silent.
+Everybody was silent except that miserable bird.</p>
+<p>Well, I had to have another go at it. "Blackman's Warbler," I
+said firmly.</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes," said my hostess.</p>
+<p>"Blackman's Warbler; I shall always remember that," lied the
+earnest-looking girl.</p>
+<p>The Authority, who was free by this time, looked at me
+indignantly.</p>
+<p>"Nonsense," he said; "it's the Chiff-chaff."</p>
+<p>Everybody else looked at me reproachfully. I was about to say
+that "Blackman's <span class="pagenum"><a name="page357" id=
+"page357"></a>[pg 357]</span> Warbler" was the local name for the
+Chiff-chaff in our part of Flint, when the Authority spoke
+again.</p>
+<p>"The Chiff-chaff," he said to our hostess with an insufferable
+air of knowledge.</p>
+<p>I wasn't going to stand that.</p>
+<p>"So <i>I</i> thought when I heard it first," I said, giving him
+a gentle smile.</p>
+<p>It was now the Authority's turn to get the reproachful
+looks.</p>
+<p>"Are they very much alike?" my hostess asked me, much
+impressed.</p>
+<p>"Very much. Blackman's Warbler is often mistaken for the
+Chiff-chaff, even by so-called experts"&mdash;and I turned to the
+Authority and added, "Have another sandwich, won't you?"&mdash;"and
+particularly so, of course, during the breeding season. It is true
+that the eggs are more speckled, but&mdash;"</p>
+<p>"Bless my soul," said the Authority, but it was easy to see that
+he was shaken, "I should think I know a Chiff-chaff when I hear
+one."</p>
+<p>"Ah, but do you know a Blackman's Warbler? One doesn't often
+hear them in this country. Now in Switzerland&mdash;"</p>
+<p>The bird said "Chiff-chaff" again with an almost indecent
+plainness of speech.</p>
+<p>"There you are!" I said triumphantly. "Listen," and I held up a
+finger. "You notice the difference? <i>Obviously</i> a Blackman's
+Warbler."</p>
+<p>Everybody looked at the Authority. He was wondering how long it
+would take to get a book about birds down from London, and deciding
+that it couldn't be done that afternoon. Meanwhile "Blackman's
+Warbler" sounded too much like the name of something to be
+repudiated. For all he had caught of our mumbled introduction I
+might have been Blackman myself.</p>
+<p>"Possibly you're right," he said reluctantly.</p>
+<p>Another bird said "Chiff-chaff" from another tree, and I thought
+it wise to be generous. "There," I said, "now that <i>was</i> a
+Chiff-chaff."</p>
+<p>The earnest-looking girl remarked (silly creature) that it
+sounded just like the other one, but nobody took any notice of her.
+They were all busy admiring me.</p>
+<p>Of course I mustn't meet the Authority again, because you may be
+pretty sure that when he got back to his books he looked up
+Blackman's Warbler and found that there was no such animal. But if
+you mix in the right society and only see the wrong people once it
+is really quite easy to be an authority on birds&mdash;or, I
+imagine, on anything else.</p>
+<p class="author">A.A.M.</p>
+<hr />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href=
+"images/357.png"><img width="100%" src="images/357.png" alt=
+"JAZZ STOCKINGS ARE THE LATEST THING, DEAR." /></a>
+<p><i>The Woman</i>. "JAZZ STOCKINGS ARE THE LATEST THING, DEAR.
+HERE'S A PICTURE OF A GIRL WITH THEM ON."</p>
+<p><i>The Man</i>. "WHAT APPALLING ROT! ER&mdash;AFTER YOU WITH THE
+PAPER."</p>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<h3>"HONOURS."</h3>
+<p class="center">(<i>By a Cynic</i>.)</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>A Dukedom, Grand or otherwise,</p>
+<p>No longer is an envied prize</p>
+<p>When every day some fierce Commission</p>
+<p>Clamours for ducal inhibition.</p>
+<p>The style of Marquess&mdash;thuswise spelt&mdash;</p>
+<p>Is picturesque, but, like the belt</p>
+<p>Of Earldom, cannot long abide</p>
+<p>Or stem the democratic tide.</p>
+<p>Viscounties stand to cheer and bless</p>
+<p>The labours of the purple Press,</p>
+<p>And Baronies, once held by robbers,</p>
+<p>Are given to patriotic jobbers.</p>
+<p>Uncompromising malediction</p>
+<p>Rests on the Baronets of fiction;</p>
+<p>In actual life they serve to link</p>
+<p>A Party with the Street of Ink;</p>
+<p>While Knighthood's latest honours fall</p>
+<p>Upon the funniest men of all.</p>
+<p>Yes, while our gratitude acclaims</p>
+<p>The justly decorated names</p>
+<p>Of peers like TENNYSON and LISTER,</p>
+<p>There is much virtue in plain Mister.</p>
+<p>The style and title deemed most fit</p>
+<p>By DARWIN, HUXLEY, BURKE and PITT,</p>
+<p>And later on by A.J.B.,</p>
+<p>Are more than good enough for me.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page358" id="page358"></a>[pg
+358]</span>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href=
+"images/358.png"><img width="100%" src="images/358.png" alt=
+'ECHO OF "SHOW SUNDAY"' /></a>
+<h3>ECHO OF "SHOW SUNDAY".</h3>
+<table summary="">
+<tr>
+<td><i>Visitor</i>. "WHAT'S THIS FELLOW DOIN' IN THE CORNER?"</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+<td><i>Artist</i>. "OH, HE'S THERE JUST TO HELP THE
+COMPOSITION."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="3"><i>Visitor</i>. "AWFULLY DECENT OF
+HIM&mdash;WHAT!"</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr />
+</div>
+<h2>THE DOMESTIC QUESTION SOLVED.</h2>
+<p>Last Thursday, at a registry-office, I obtained the favour of an
+interview with a domestic artist and was able (by reason of a
+previous conference with my friend Freshfield&mdash;like myself a
+demobilised bachelor author) to face the ordeal with some degree of
+confidence.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Milton, widow, fifty-five, exceptional references, who
+proposed, if everything about me seemed satisfactory, to rule my
+household, was as suave as one has any right to expect nowadays;
+but when she dictated the terms I gathered that she would be
+sufficiently dangerous if roused.</p>
+<p>She knew what bachelors were, she did, and wasn't going to take
+a place where a lot of comp'ny was kept.</p>
+<p>I assured her on this point. My friend, Mr. Freshfield, I said,
+would come once a week, every Monday, to dine and sleep, but beyond
+that I should put no strain upon her powers of entertainment.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Milton further said that she would require at least two
+afternoons and one evening a week. Here was my opportunity to
+appear generous.</p>
+<p>"Two afternoons and one evening?" I said. "My dear friend and
+fellow-worker, you can have every Wednesday and Thursday from after
+breakfast on the former to practically dinner-time (eight o'clock)
+on the latter. No questions will be asked of you or of the piano or
+gramophone, both of which instruments you will find in smooth
+running order. I am away," I added, "every Wednesday and
+Thursday."</p>
+<p>That clinched it. Hiding her surprise as well as she could under
+an irreproachable bonnet and toupee, Mrs. Milton expressed her
+readiness to accompany me then and there, and to superintend the
+disappearance of my coals and marmalade.</p>
+<p>Perhaps you have guessed that I propose to spend every Wednesday
+night at Freshfield's place, and that the complete success of the
+scheme has been assured by the making of a similar agreement
+between Freshfield and a person holding corresponding views to
+those of Mrs. Milton.</p>
+<p>Thus Freshfield and I have each secured the full seven days'
+attendance by a device pleasing to all concerned. After locking up
+the MELBA and GEORGE ROBEY records on Wednesday mornings and with
+the knowledge that the piano is past serious injury, I depart for
+Freshfield's (<i>vi&acirc;</i> the Club for lunch) each week with a
+light heart.</p>
+<p>My collaborator is all for keeping this solution of a harassing
+problem to ourselves. I say "No." The general adoption of such a
+scheme, with alterations to suit individual cases, would, I think,
+be a nail in the coffin of Bolshevism in the home.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<h4>Mr. Wilson Rubs It In.</h4>
+<p>"The <i>Echo de Paris</i> says, 'Mr. Wilson believes he can play
+the r&ocirc;le of the Popes of the middle ages. In the &eacute;clat
+of his public messages he tries to set peoples against
+governments.'"&mdash;<i>Scots Paper</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"General Monash making an imposing figure on his grey horse,
+where he rode with General Hobbs and three
+Brigadiers."&mdash;<i>Times</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>The R.S.P.C.A. must look into this.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"GOLF BATTLE OF THE SEXES.</p>
+<p>The latest Jack Johnson story is that he is training in Mexico
+City for a series of fights, which will take place in the
+bull-ring.</p>
+<p>Ladies: Miss Cecil Leitch, Miss Chubb, Miss Barry, Mrs. McNair,
+Mrs. Jillard, Mrs. F.W. Brown, Miss Jones Parker and Mrs. Willock
+Pollen."&mdash;<i>Daily Sketch</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>We are rather sorry for Massa JOHNSON.</p>
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page359" id="page359"></a>[pg
+359]</span>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href=
+"images/359.png"><img width="100%" src="images/359.png" alt=
+"LET'S SHOVE OFF NOW, MATER." /></a>
+<p><i>Bored Cadet (in Westminster Abbey).</i> "LET'S SHOVE OFF NOW,
+MATER. HATE HANGIN' ROUND A PLACE WHERE ONE MIGHT BE BURIED SOME
+DAY!"</p>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<h3>THE CHURCH AND PEACE.</h3>
+<p>The acquiescence of the Coventry Peace Celebration Committee in
+the Bishop of COVENTRY'S view that the Lady GODIVA of their pageant
+should be fully clothed is leading not only to many innovations in
+the representations of history all over the country, but to a
+recrudescence of ecclesiastical power which is affording the
+liveliest satisfaction to Lord HUGH CECIL.</p>
+<p>For already several other divines have followed suit. It is
+agreeable, for example, to the very reasonable wishes of the DEAN
+and Chapter of Westminster that the Westminster Peace Celebration
+Committee have decided that NELL GWYNN shall either be excluded
+from the Whitehall procession altogether or shall figure as a
+Mildmay deaconess.</p>
+<p>Acting under the influence of a local curate, the Athelney Peace
+Celebration Committee have unanimously resolved that in these hard
+times, when (as the curate pointed out) food is not too plentiful,
+it would be better if KING ALFRED cooked the cakes properly and
+they were afterwards distributed.</p>
+<p>So many watering-places claim CANUTE as their own that he may be
+expected to be multiplied exceedingly in the approaching Peace
+revels; but from more than one Pastoral Letter it may be gathered
+that the Episcopal Bench is very wisely in favour of the King's
+retirement from the margin of the ocean before his shoes are
+actually wet. It is held that in these days of leather-shortage and
+the need for economy no risks should be run with footwear.</p>
+<p>Other laudable efforts in the direction of economy are to be
+made, again through the earnest solicitude of the Establishment, in
+connection with the impersonation of Sir WALTER RALEIGH and KING
+JOHN. With the purpose of saving Sir WALTER'S cloak from stain and
+possible injury the puddle at QUEEN ELIZABETH'S feet will be only a
+painted one, while, owing to the exorbitant price of laundry-work
+at the moment, it has been arranged that only a few of KING JOHN'S
+more negligible articles shall be consigned to the Wash.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<h4>Hun Duplicity in Paris.</h4>
+<p>"Count von Brockdorff-Rantzau replied simply, pointing to Herr
+Dandsbery and saying: 'I present to you Herr
+Landsberg.'"&mdash;<i>The Star</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<hr />
+<h3>HOME FATIGUES.</h3>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>How oft I tried by smart intrigue</p>
+<p class="i2">To do the British Army,</p>
+<p>And dodge each rightly-termed Fatigue</p>
+<p class="i2">Which nearly drove me barmy.</p>
+<p>In vain! Whoever else they missed</p>
+<p>My name was always on the list.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>And so, while other minds were set</p>
+<p class="i2">On smashing Jerry Bosch up</p>
+<p>With rifle, bomb and bayonet,</p>
+<p class="i2">I chiefly learned to wash-up,</p>
+<p>To peel potatoes by the score,</p>
+<p>Sweep out a room and scrub the floor.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Thus, now that I have left the ranks,</p>
+<p class="i2">The plain unvarnished fact is</p>
+<p>That through those three rough years, and thanks</p>
+<p class="i2">To very frequent practice,</p>
+<p>I, who was once a nascent snob,</p>
+<p>Am master of the menial's job.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>To-day I count this no disgrace</p>
+<p class="i2">When "maids" have gone to blazes,</p>
+<p>But take our late Eliza's place</p>
+<p class="i2">And win my lady's praises,</p>
+<p>As she declares in grateful mood</p>
+<p>The Army did me worlds of good.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page360" id="page360"></a>[pg
+360]</span>
+<h2>THE MUD LARKS.</h2>
+<p>"So," said Albert Edward, "I clapped him on the back and said,
+'You were at Geelong College in 1910, and your name's Cazenove,
+isn't it?'"</p>
+<p>"To which he made reply, 'My name's Jones and I never heard of
+Geewhizz,' and knocked you down and trod on you for your dashed
+familiarity," said the Babe.</p>
+<p>"Nothing of the sort. He was delighted to meet me
+again&mdash;de-lighted. He's coming to munch with us tomorrow
+evening, by the way, so you might sport the tablecloth for once,
+William old dear, and tell the cook to put it across Og, the fatted
+capon, and generally strive to live down your reputation as the
+worst Mess President the world has ever seen. You will, I
+know&mdash;for my sake."</p>
+<p>Next morning, when I came down to breakfast, I found a note from
+him saying that he had gone to the Divisional Races with his dear
+old college chum, Cazenove; also the following addenda:&mdash;</p>
+<p>"P.S.&mdash;If William should miss a few francs from the Mess
+Fund tell him I will return it fourfold ere night. I am on to a
+sure thing.</p>
+<p>"P.P.S.&mdash;If MacTavish should raise a howl about his fawn
+leggings, tell him I have borrowed them for the day as I understand
+there will be V.A.D.'s present, and <i>noblesse oblige</i>."</p>
+<p>At a quarter past eight that night he returned, accompanied by a
+pleasant-looking gunner subaltern, whom we gathered to be the
+Cazenove person. I say "gathered," for Albert Edward did not
+trouble to introduce the friend of his youth, but, flinging himself
+into a chair, attacked his food in a sulky silence which endured
+all through the repast. Mr. Cazenove, on the other hand, was in
+excellent form. He had spent a beautiful day, he said, and didn't
+care who knew it. A judge of horseflesh from the cradle, he had
+spotted the winner every time, backed his fancy like a little man
+and had been very generously rewarded by the Totalizator. He was
+contemplating a trip to Brussels in a day or so. Was his dear old
+friend Albert Edward coming?</p>
+<p>His "dear old friend" (who was eating his thumb-nails instead of
+his savoury) scowled and said he thought not.</p>
+<p>The gunner wagged his head sagely. "Ah, well, old chap, if you
+will bet on horses which roar like a den of lions you must take the
+consequences."</p>
+<p>Albert Edward writhed. "That animal used to win sprints in
+England; do you know that?"</p>
+<p>Mr. Cazenove shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+<p>"He may have thirty years ago. All I'd back him to win now would
+be an old-age pension. Well, I warned you, didn't I?"</p>
+<p>Albert Edward lost control. "When I'm reduced to taking advice
+on racing form from a Tasmanian I'll chuck the game and hie me to a
+monkery. Why, look at that bit of bric-&agrave;-brac you were
+riding to-day; a decent God-fearing Australian wouldn't be seen
+dead in a ten-acre paddock with it."</p>
+<p>Mr. Cazenove spluttered even more furiously. "That's a dashed
+good horse I'll have you know."</p>
+<p>"I am not alluding to his morals, but to his appearance," said
+Albert Edward; "I've seen better-looking hat-racks."</p>
+<p>"I'd back him to lick the stuffing out of anything you've got in
+this unit, anyway," Cazenove snorted.</p>
+<p>"Don't be rash, Charlie," Albert Edward warned; "your lucky
+afternoon has gone to your head. Why, I've got an old mule here
+could give that boneshaker two stone and beat him by a furlong in
+five."</p>
+<p>The gunner sprang to his feet. "Done with you!" he roared. "Done
+with you here and now!"</p>
+<p>Albert Edward appeared to be somewhat taken back. "Don't be
+silly, man," he soothed. "It's pitch dark outside and cut up with
+trenches. Sit down and have some more of this rare old port,
+specially concocted for us by the E.F.C."</p>
+<p>But Mr. Cazenove was thoroughly aroused. "You're hedging," he
+sneered; "you're scared."</p>
+<p>"Nonsense," said Albert Edward. "I have never known what fear
+is&mdash;not since the Armistice, anyhow. I am one of the bravest
+men I have ever met. What are you doing with all that money?"</p>
+<p>"Putting it down for you to cover," said Cazenove firmly.</p>
+<p>Albert Edward sighed. "All right, then, if you will have it so.
+William, old bean, I'm afraid I shall have to trouble you for a
+trifle more out of the Mess Fund. <i>Noblesse oblige</i>, you
+know."</p>
+<p>MacTavish and the Babe departed with the quest to prepare his
+mount for the ordeal, while Albert Edward and I sought out
+Ferdinand and Isabella, our water-cart pair. Isabella was fast
+asleep, curled up like a cat and purring pleasantly, but Ferdinand
+was awake, meditatively gnawing through the wood-work of his stall.
+With the assistance of the line-guard we saddled and bridled him;
+but at the stable door he dug his toes in. It was long past his
+racing hours, he gave us to understand, and his union wouldn't
+permit it. He backed all round the standings, treading on recumbent
+horses, tripping over bails, knocking uprights flat and bringing
+acres of tin roofing clattering down upon our heads, Isabella
+encouraging him with ringing fanfares of applause.</p>
+<p>At length we roused out the grooms and practically carried him
+to the starting-point.</p>
+<p>"You've been the devil of a time," William grumbled. "Cazenove's
+been waiting for twenty minutes. See that light over there? That's
+where MacTavish is. He's the winning-post. Keep straight down the
+mud-track towards it and you'll be all right. Don't swing sideways
+or you'll get bunkered. Form line. Come up the mule. Back,
+Cazenove, back! Steady. Go!"</p>
+<p>The rivals clapped heels to their steeds and were swallowed up
+in the night. I looked at my watch, the hands pointed to 10.30
+exactly. William and I lit cigarettes and waited. At 10.42
+MacTavish walked into us, his lamp had given out and he wanted a
+new battery.</p>
+<p>"Who won?" we inquired.</p>
+<p>"Won?" he asked. "They haven't started yet, have they?"</p>
+<p>"Left here about ten minutes ago," said William. "Do you mean to
+say you've seen nothing of them?"</p>
+<p>At that moment two loud voices, accompanied by the splash of
+liquid and the crash of tin, struck our ears from different points
+of the compass.</p>
+<p>"Sounds to me as if somebody had found a watery grave over to
+the left," said the Babe.</p>
+<p>"Sounds to me as if somebody had returned to stables over to the
+right," said I.</p>
+<p>We trotted away to investigate. 'Twas as I thought; Ferdinand
+had homed to his Isabella and was backing round the standings once
+more, trailing the infuriated Albert Edward after him, sheets of
+corrugated iron falling about them like leaves in Vallombrosa.</p>
+<p>"Bolted straight in here and scraped me off against the roof,"
+panted the latter. "Suppose the confounded apple-fancier won ages
+ago, didn't he?"</p>
+<p>"He's upside down in the Tuning Fork trench system at the
+present moment," said I. "The Babe and the grooms are digging him
+out. If you hurry up you'll win yet."</p>
+<p>We roused out the guard, bore the reluctant Ferdinand back to
+the course and by eleven o'clock had restarted him. At 11.10
+William returned to report that the digging party had salved the
+Cazenove pair and got them going again.</p>
+<p>"Too late," said I; "Albert Edward must have won in a walk by
+now. He left here at ..."</p>
+<p>The resounding clatter of falling <span class="pagenum"><a name=
+"page361" id="page361"></a>[pg 361]</span> sheet-iron cut short my
+words. Ferdinand had, it appeared, returned to stables once
+more.</p>
+<p>Suddenly something hurtled out of the gloom and crashed into us.
+It was the Babe.</p>
+<p>"What's the matter now? Where are you going?" we asked.</p>
+<p>"Wire-cutters, quick!" he gasped and hurtled onwards towards the
+saddle-room.</p>
+<p>"Hello there!" came the hail of MacTavish from up the course. "I
+s-say, what about this blessed race? I'm f-f-rozen s-s-tiff out
+here. I'm about f-f-fed up, I t-tell you."</p>
+<p>William groaned. "As if we all weren't!" he protested. "If all
+the Mess Funds for the next three weeks weren't involved I'd make
+the silly fools chuck it. Here, you, run and tell Albert Edward to
+get a move on."</p>
+<p>I found Ferdinand rapidly levelling the remainder of the
+standings, playing his jockey at the end of his reins as a
+fisherman plays a salmon.</p>
+<p>"This cursed donkey won't steer at all," Albert Edward growled.
+"Sideslips all over the place like a wet tyre. Has Cazenove won
+yet?"</p>
+<p>"Not yet," said I. "He's wound up in the Switch Line wire
+entanglements now. The Babe and the wrecking gang are busy chopping
+him out. There's still time."</p>
+<p>"Then drag Isabella out in front of this brute," said he.
+"Quick, man, quick!"</p>
+<p>At 11.43, by means of a brimming nose-bag, I had enticed
+Isabella forth, and the procession started in the following order:
+First, myself, dragging Isabella and dangling the bait. Secondly,
+Isabella. Thirdly, the racers, Ferdinand and Albert Edward, the
+latter belting Isabella with a surcingle whenever she faltered.
+Lastly, the line-guard, speeding Ferdinand with a doubled
+stirrup-leather. We toiled down the mud. track at an average
+velocity of .25 m.p.h., halting occasionally for Isabella to feed
+and the line-guard to rest his arm. I have seen faster things in my
+day.</p>
+<p>Then, just as we were arriving at our journey's end we collided
+with another procession. It was the wrecking gang, laden with the
+implements of their trade (shovels, picks, wire-cutters, ropes,
+planks, waggon-jacks, etc.), and escorting in their midst Mr.
+Cazenove and his battered racehorse. Both competitors immediately
+claimed the victory:&mdash;</p>
+<p>"Beaten you this time, Albert Edward, old man."... "On the
+contrary, Charles, old chap, I won hands down."... "But, my good
+fellow, I've been here for hours."... "My dear old thing, I've been
+here <i>all night</i>!"... "Do be reasonable."... "Don't be
+absurd."</p>
+<p>"Oh, dry up, you two, and leave it to the winning-post to
+decide," said William.</p>
+<p>"By the way, where is the winning-post?"</p>
+<p>"The winning-post," we echoed. "Yes, where is he?"</p>
+<p>"Begging your pardon, Sir," came the voice of the Mess orderly,
+"but if you was referring to Mister MacTavish he went home to bed
+half-an-hour ago."</p>
+<p class="author">PATLANDER.</p>
+<hr />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href=
+"images/361.png"><img width="100%" src="images/361.png" alt=
+"AND HERE, AUNTIE, WE GET THE SIDE ELEVATION." /></a>
+<p><i>Potential President of the Royal Academy.</i> "AND HERE,
+AUNTIE, WE GET THE SIDE ELEVATION."</p>
+<p><i>Auntie.</i> "HOW DELIGHTFULLY THOROUGH! I'D NO IDEA THAT
+ARCHITECTS DID THE SIDES AS WELL."</p>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<h4>Another Impending Apology.</h4>
+<p>"A sub-department of Scotland Yard ... which looks after Kings
+and visiting potentates, Cabinet Ministers and Suffragettes, spies,
+anarchists, and other 'undesirables.'"&mdash;<i>Daily
+Paper.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"The custodian smothered the ball, and after a Ruby scrimmage
+the City goal escaped."&mdash;<i>Provincial Paper.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>A much prettier word than the other.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"Teacher (juniors); &pound;1 monthly."&mdash;<i>Advt. in
+Liverpool Paper.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>Who says there are no prizes in the teaching profession?</p>
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page362" id="page362"></a>[pg
+362]</span>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href=
+"images/362.png"><img width="100%" src="images/362.png" alt=
+"OUR ARTIST GIVES HIS MODEL AN IDEA OF THE GRACE AND BEAUTY OF THE POSE HE REQUIRES OF HER." />
+</a>OUR ARTIST GIVES HIS MODEL AN IDEA OF THE GRACE AND BEAUTY OF
+THE POSE HE REQUIRES OF HER.</div>
+<hr />
+<h2>REVANCHE.</h2>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>When I had seen ten thousand pass me by</p>
+<p class="i2">And waved my arms and wearied of hallooing,</p>
+<p>"Ho, taxi-meter! Taxi-meter, hi!"</p>
+<p class="i2">And they hied on and there was nothing doing;</p>
+<p>When I was sick of counting dud by dud</p>
+<p class="i2">Bearing I know not whom&mdash;or coarse
+carousers,</p>
+<p>Or damsels fairer than the moss-rose bud&mdash;</p>
+<p>And still more sick at having bits of mud</p>
+<p class="i4">Daubed on my new dress-trousers;</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>I went to dinner by the Underground</p>
+<p class="i2">And every time the carriage stopped or started</p>
+<p>Clung to my neighbour very tightly round</p>
+<p class="i2">The neck till at Sloane Square his collar parted.</p>
+<p>I saw my hostess glancing at my socks,</p>
+<p class="i2">Surprised perhaps at so much clay's adherence</p>
+<p>And, still unnerved by those infernal shocks,</p>
+<p>Said, "I was working in my window-box;</p>
+<p class="i4">Excuse my soiled appearance."</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>But in the morn I found a silent square</p>
+<p class="i2">And one tall house with all the windows
+shuttered,</p>
+<p>The mansion of the Marquis of Mayfair,</p>
+<p class="i2">And "Here shall be the counter-stroke," I
+muttered;</p>
+<p>"Shall not the noble Marquis and his kin</p>
+<p class="i2">Make feast to-night in his superb refectory,</p>
+<p>And then go on to see 'The Purple Sin'?</p>
+<p>They shall." I sought a taxi-garage in</p>
+<p class="i4">The Telephone Directory.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Ho, there!" I cried within the wooden hutch;</p>
+<p class="i2">"Hammersmith House&mdash;a most absurd
+dilemma&mdash;</p>
+<p>His lordship's motor-cars have strained a clutch,</p>
+<p class="i2">And taxis are required at 8 pip emma</p>
+<p>(Six of your finest and most up-to-date,</p>
+<p class="i2">With no false starts and no foul petrol leaking),</p>
+<p>To bear a certain party of the great</p>
+<p>To the Melpomene at ten past eight.</p>
+<p class="i4">Thompson, the butler, speaking."</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>They came. And I at the appointed hour</p>
+<p class="i2">Watched them arrive before the muted dwelling</p>
+<p>And heard some speeches full of pith and power</p>
+<p class="i2">And saw them turn and go with anger swelling;</p>
+<p>Save only one who, spite his rude dismay,</p>
+<p class="i2">Like a whipped Hun, made traffic of his sorrow</p>
+<p>And shouted, "Taxi, Sir?" I answered "Nay,</p>
+<p>I do not need you, jarvey, but I may</p>
+<p class="i4">Be disengaged to-morrow."</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="center">EVOE.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<h4>The Punishment of Greed.</h4>
+<p>"Large quantity of new Block Chocolate offered cheap; cause
+ill-health."&mdash;<i>Manchester Evening News.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"Miss M. Albanesi, daughter of the well-known singer, Mme.
+Albanesi."&mdash;<i>Daily Paper.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>Not to be confused with Mme. ALBANI, the popular novelist.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"The Portuguese retreated a step. His head flew to his
+hip-pocket. But he was a fraction of a second too
+late."&mdash;<i>The Scout.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>Many a slip 'twixt the head and the hip.</p>
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page363" id="page363"></a>[pg
+363]</span>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href=
+"images/363.png"><img width="100%" src="images/363.png" alt=
+"GHOSTS AT VERSAILLES." /></a>
+<h3>GHOSTS AT VERSAILLES.</h3>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<!--Blank page 364-->
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page365" id="page365"></a>[pg
+365]</span>
+<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2>
+<p><i>Tuesday, April 29th.</i>&mdash;When the House of Commons
+re-assembled this afternoon a good many gaps were noticeable on the
+green benches. They were not due, however, to the New Year's
+Honours, which made a belated appearance this morning, for not a
+single Member of Parliament has been ennobled. The notion that not
+one of the seven hundred is worthy of elevation is, of course,
+unthinkable. But by-elections are so chancy.</p>
+<p>Mr. JEREMIAH MACVEAGH still has some difficulty in realising
+that the Irish centre of gravity has shifted from Westminster to
+Dublin. He indignantly refused to accept an answer to one of his
+questions from little Mr. PRATT, and loudly demanded the corporeal
+presence of the CHIEF SECRETARY. Mr. MACPHERSON, however, considers
+that his duty requires him to remain in Ireland, where Mr.
+MACVEAGH'S seventy Sinn Fein colleagues are keeping him
+sufficiently busy.</p>
+<p>In explaining the swollen estimates of the Ministry of Labour,
+Sir ROBERT HORNE pointed out that it is now charged with the
+functions formerly appertaining to half-a-dozen other Departments.
+He has indeed become a sort of administrative <i>Pooh-Bah</i>.
+Unlike that functionary, however, he was not "born sneering." On
+the contrary, he made a most sympathetic speech, chiefly devoted to
+justifying the much-abused unemployment donation, which accounts
+for twenty-five out of the thirty-eight millions to be spent by his
+Department this year. But let no one mistake him for a mere HORNE
+of Plenty, pouring out benefits indiscriminately upon the genuine
+unemployed and the work-shy. He has already deprived some seventeen
+thousand potential domestics of their unearned increment, and he
+promises ruthless prosecution of all who try to cheat the State in
+future.</p>
+<p>Criticism was largely silenced by the Minister's frankness. Sir
+F. BANBURY, of course, was dead against the whole policy, and
+demanded the immediate withdrawal of the civilian grants; but his
+uncompromising attitude found little favour. Mr. CLYNES thought it
+would have been better for the State to furnish work instead of
+doles, but did not explain how in that case private enterprise was
+to get going. France's experience with the <i>ateliers
+nationaux</i> is not encouraging, though 1919, when "demobbed"
+subalterns turn up their noses at &pound;250 a year, is not
+1848.</p>
+<p><i>Wednesday, April 30th.</i>&mdash;Mr. AUSTEN CHAMBERLAIN,
+returning to the Exchequer after an interval of thirteen years,
+made a much better Budget speech than one would have expected. It
+was longer, perhaps, than was absolutely necessary. Like the late
+Mr. GLADSTONE, he has a tendency to digress into financial
+backwaters instead of sticking to the main Pactolian stream. His
+excursus upon the impracticability of a levy on capital was really
+redundant, though it pleased the millionaires and reconciled them
+to the screwing-up of the death-duties. Still, on the whole, he had
+a more flattering tale to unfold than most of us had ventured to
+anticipate, and he told it well, in spite of an occasional
+confusion in his figures. After all, it must be hard for a
+Chancellor who left the national expenditure at a hundred and fifty
+millions and comes back to find it multiplied tenfold not to
+mistake millions for thousands now and again.</p>
+<p>On the whole the Committee was well pleased with his
+performance, partly because the gap between revenue and expenditure
+turned out to be a mere trifle of two hundred millions instead of
+twice or thrice that amount; partly because there was, for once, no
+increase in the income-tax; but chiefly, I think, for the
+sentimental reason that in recommending a tiny preference for the
+produce of the Dominions and Dependencies Mr. CHAMBERLAIN was
+happily combining imperial interests with filial affection.</p>
+<p>Almost casually the CHANCELLOR announced that the Land Values
+Duties, the outstanding feature of Mr. LLOYD GEORGE'S famous Budget
+of 1909, were, with the approval of their author, to be referred to
+a Select Committee, to see if anything could be made of them. If
+only Mr. ASQUITH had thought of that device when his brilliant
+young lieutenant first propounded them! There would have been no
+quarrel between the two Houses: the Parliament Act would never have
+been passed, and a Home Rule Act, for which nobody in Ireland has a
+good word, would not now be reposing on the Statute-Book.</p>
+<p>In the absence of any EX-CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER the task of
+criticism was left to Mr. ADAMSON, who was mildly aggressive and
+showed a hankering after a levy on capital, not altogether easy to
+reconcile with his statement that no responsible Member of the
+Labour Party desired to repudiate the National Debt. Mr. JESSON, a
+National Democrat, was more original and stimulating. As a
+representative of the Musicians' Union he is all for harmony, and
+foresees the time when Capital and Labour shall unite their forces
+in one great national orchestra, under the directing baton of the
+State.</p>
+<p>At the instance of Lord STRACHIE the House of Lords conducted a
+spirited little debate on the price of milk. It appears that there
+is a conflict of jurisdiction between the FOOD-CONTROLLER and the
+MINISTER OF AGRICULTURE, and that the shortage in the supply of
+this commodity must be ascribed to the overlapping of the
+Departments.</p>
+<div class="figright" style="width:50%;"><a href=
+"images/365.png"><img width="100%" src="images/365.png" alt=
+"YOU MAY HAVE WON THE WAR, BUT WE'VE GOT TO PAY FOR IT." /></a>
+<p><i>Budget Victims.</i> "YOU MAY HAVE WON THE WAR, BUT WE'VE GOT
+TO PAY FOR IT."</p>
+</div>
+<p><i>Thursday, May 1st.</i>&mdash;Sinn Fein has decreed that
+nobody in Ireland should do any work on May Day. Messrs. DEVLIN and
+MACVEAGH, however, being out of the jurisdiction, demonstrated
+their independence by being busier than ever. The appointment of a
+new Press Censor in Ireland furnished them with many opportunities
+at Question-time for the display of their wit, which some of the
+new Members seemed to find passably amusing.</p>
+<p>Mr. DEVLIN'S best joke was, however, <span class=
+"pagenum"><a name="page366" id="page366"></a>[pg 366]</span>
+reserved for the Budget debate, when, in denouncing the further
+burdens laid on stout and whisky, he declared that Ireland was,
+"apart from political trouble," the most peaceful country in the
+world.</p>
+<p>The fiscal question always seems to invite exaggeration of
+statement. The CHANCELLOR'S not very tremendous Preference
+proposals were denounced by Sir DONALD MACLEAN as inevitably
+leading to the taxation of food and to quarrels with foreign
+countries. Colonel AMERY, on the other hand, waxed dithyrambic in
+their praise, and declared that by taking twopence off Colonial tea
+the Government were not only consecrating the policy of Imperial
+Preference, but were "putting the coping-stone on it."</p>
+<hr />
+<div class="figleft" style="width:50%;"><a href=
+"images/366.png"><img width="100%" src="images/366.png" alt=
+"HERE, MODOM, IS A CHARMING MODEL WHICH WOULD SUIT YOU, IF I MAY SO PUT IT, DOWN TO THE GROUND." />
+</a>
+<p>The Minister of Labour (anxious to find work for the
+ex-munitionette drawing unemployment pay). "HERE, MODOM, IS A
+CHARMING MODEL WHICH WOULD SUIT YOU, IF I MAY SO PUT IT, DOWN TO
+THE GROUND."</p>
+</div>
+<h3>A CELTIC COUNTER-BLAST.</h3>
+<p>The continued domination of the Russians in the domain of the
+ballet has already excited a certain amount of not unfriendly
+criticism. But our Muscovite visitors are not to be allowed to have
+it all their own way, and we understand that negotiations are
+already on foot with a view to enabling the Irish Ballet to give a
+season at a leading London theatre in the near future.</p>
+<p>The Irish Ballet, which is organised on a strictly
+self-determining basis, is one of the outcomes of the Irish
+Theatre, but derives in its essentials directly from the school
+established by Cormac, son of Art. That is to say it is in its
+aims, ideals and methods permeated by the Dalecarlian, Fomorian,
+Brythonic and Firbolgian impulse. Mr. Fergal Dindsenchus O'Corkery,
+the Director, is a direct descendant of Cuchulinn and only uses the
+Ulidian, dialect. Mr. Tordelbach O'Lochlainn, who has composed most
+of the ballets in the r&eacute;pertoire, is a chieftain of mingled
+Dalcassian and Gallgoidel descent. The scenery has been painted by
+Mr. Cathal Eochaid. MacCathamhoil, and the dresses designed by Mr.
+Domnall Fothud O'Conchobar.</p>
+<p>The artists who compose the troupe have all been trained during
+the War at the Ballybunnion School in North Kerry, and combine in a
+wonderful way the sobriety of the Delsartean method with the feline
+agility of that of Kilkenny. Headed by the bewitching Gormflaith
+Rathbressil, and including such brilliant artists as Maeve Errigal,
+Coomhoola Grits, Ethne O'Conarchy, Brigit Brandub, Corcu and Mocu,
+Diarmid Hy Brasil, Murtagh MacMurchada, Aillil Molt, Mag Mell and
+Donnchad Bodb, they form a galaxy of talent which, alike for the
+euphony of its nomenclature and the elasticity of its technique,
+has never been equalled since the days of ST. VITUS.</p>
+<p>We have spoken of the work of Mr. O'Lochlainn, who is
+responsible for the three-act ballet, <i>Brian Boruma</i>; a
+fantasy on the Brehon laws, entitled <i>The Gardens of Goll;
+Poulaphuca</i>, and the <i>Roaring of O'Rafferty;</i> but the
+repertory also includes notable and impassioned compositions by
+Ossian MacGillycuddy, Aghla Malachy, Carolan MacFirbis and Emer
+Sidh. The orchestra employed differs in many respects from that to
+which we are accustomed, the wood-wind being strengthened by a
+quartet of Firbolg flutes and two Fodlaphones, while the brass is
+reinforced by a bass bosthoon, an instrument of extraordinary depth
+and sonority, and the percussion by a group of Dingle drums.</p>
+<p>But enough has been said to show that the Irish ballet is
+assured in advance of a cordial reception from all admirers of the
+neo-Celtic genius.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"A Bill has been introduced in Florida providing that 'from and
+after equal suffrage has been established in Florida it shall be
+lawful for females to don and wear the wearing apparel of man as
+now worn publicly by him.'"&mdash;<i>Western Morning News</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>Happily they cannot take the breeks off a Highlander.</p>
+<hr />
+<h3>COLLABORATION.</h3>
+<p>Biddick has placed me in a most awkward position. I am a proud
+man; I cannot bring myself to accept a gift of money from anybody.
+And yet I cannot help feeling I should be justified in taking the
+guinea he has sent me.</p>
+<p>Biddick is a journalist. I was discussing the inflation of
+prices and asking his advice as to how to increase one's income.
+"Why not write something for the Press, my dear fellow?" he said.
+"Five hundred words with a catchy title; nothing funny&mdash;that's
+<i>my</i> line&mdash;but something solid and practical with money
+in it; the public's always ready for that. Take your neighbour, old
+Diggles, and his mushroom-beds, for instance. Thriving local
+industry&mdash;capital copy. Try your hand at half a column, and
+call it 'A Fortune in Fungus.'"</p>
+<p>"I 'm afraid I know nothing about mushrooms, with the exception
+of the one I nearly died of," I replied, "and I'm not sufficiently
+acquainted with Mr. Diggles to venture to invite his confidence
+respecting his business."</p>
+<p>"My dear man, I don't ask you to tell Diggles you're going to
+write him up in the newspapers; he'd kick you off the premises; he
+doesn't want his secrets given away to competitors. Just dodge the
+old man round the sheds, get into conversation with his staff, keep
+your eyes open generally and you'll pick up as much as you want for
+half a column. And when you've got your notes together bring 'em
+along to me. I'll put 'em shipshape for you."</p>
+<p>I thanked him very gratefully.</p>
+<p>The mushroom-sheds are situated in a field some distance from my
+residence, and I found it rather a fatiguing walk. After tedious
+watching in a cramped position through a gap in the hedge I saw Mr.
+Diggles emerge from a shed and move away from my direction. I lost
+no time in creeping forward under cover of my umbrella towards an
+employee, who was engaged in tossing manure. I drew out my
+note-book and interrogated him briefly and briskly.</p>
+<p>"Do you rear from seeds or from cuttings?" I asked him. He
+scratched his head and appeared in doubt. "Are your plants
+self-supporting," I went on, "or do you train them on twigs? What
+would be the diameter of your finest specimen?" He continued in
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page367" id="page367"></a>[pg
+367]</span> doubt. I adopted a conversational manner. "I suppose
+you'll be potting off soon? You must get very fond of your
+mushrooms. I think one always gets fond of anything which demands
+one's whole care and attention. I wonder if I might have a peep at
+your <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;s</i>?"</p>
+<p>I edged towards the door of one of the sheds, but he made no
+attempt to accompany me. Instead he put his hands to his mouth and
+shouted, "Hi, maister!"</p>
+<p>Mr. Diggles promptly responded to the summons. There was no
+eluding him. I put my note-book out of sight and inquired if he
+could oblige me with a pound of fresh-culled mushrooms. He could,
+and he did. I paid him four-and-sixpence for them, the control
+price presumably, but he gave me no invitation to view the growing
+crops. I retraced my steps without having collected even an opening
+paragraph for "A Fortune in Fungus."</p>
+<p>The next day found me again near the sheds. Mr. Diggles was
+nowhere in sight. I approached unobtrusively through the hedge and
+accosted a small boy.</p>
+<p>"Hulloa, my little man," I said, "what is your department in
+this hive of industry? You weed the mushrooms, perhaps, or prune
+them?" He seemed shy and offered no answer. "Perhaps you hoe
+between the plants or syringe them with insecticide?"</p>
+<p>Still I could not win his confidence, so I tried pressing
+sixpence into his palm. "Between ourselves, what are the weekly
+takings?" I said. He pocketed the coin and put his finger on his
+lips.</p>
+<p>"<i>Belge,"</i> he said. Then he bolted into a shed and returned
+accompanied by Mr. Diggles. There was nothing for it but to
+purchase another pound of mushrooms. I was no nearer "A Fortune in
+Fungus" than before.</p>
+<p>Two days later, having received apparently reliable information
+that Mr. Diggles was confined to his bed with influenza, I ventured
+again to visit the sheds. I was advancing boldly across the field
+when to my consternation he suddenly appeared from behind a
+hayrick. I was so startled that I turned to fly, and in my
+precipitancy tripped on a tussock and fell. Mr. Diggles came to my
+assistance, and, when he had helped me to my feet and brushed me
+down with a birch broom he was carrying, I could do nothing less
+than buy another pound of his mushrooms.</p>
+<p>I felt it was time to consult Biddick. He was sitting at his
+desk staring at a blank sheet of paper. His fingers were harrowing
+his hair and he looked distraught.</p>
+<p>"Excuse the interruption," I said, "but this 'Fortune in Fungus'
+is ruining me;" and I related my experience.</p>
+<p>At the finish Biddick gripped my hand and spoke with some
+emotion. "Dear old chap," he said, "it's my line, after all. It's
+funny. If only I can do it justice;" and he shook his
+fountain-pen.</p>
+<p>This morning I received a guinea and a newspaper cutting
+entitled "A Cadger for Copy," which may appeal to some people's
+sense of humour. It makes none to mine. In the flap of the envelope
+Biddick writes: "Halves, with best thanks."</p>
+<p>Upon consideration I shall forward him a simple formal
+receipt.</p>
+<hr />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href=
+"images/367.png"><img width="100%" src="images/367.png" alt=
+"IT LOOKS QUITE LIKE PRE-WAR BACON." /></a>
+<p>"IT LOOKS QUITE LIKE PRE-WAR BACON."</p>
+<p>"ON THE CONTRARY, MADAM, PERMIT ME TO ASSURE YOU IT IS OUR
+FINEST 'POST-BELLUM STREAKY.'"</p>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<p>From a bookseller's catalogue:&mdash;</p>
+<blockquote>
+<p>"THE ART OF TATTING.</p>
+<p>This book is intended for the woman who has time to spare for
+reading, Tatting being such quick and easy work that busy fingers
+can do both at the same time."</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>An edition in Braille would appear to be contemplated.</p>
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page368" id="page368"></a>[pg
+368]</span>
+<h2>THE GERM.</h2>
+<p>The great Bacteriologist entered the lecture-room and ascended
+the platform. A murmur of astonishment ran round the audience as
+they beheld, not the haggard face of a man who daily risked the
+possibility of being awarded the O.B.E., but the calm and smiling
+countenance of one who had succeeded where other scientists, even
+of Anglo-American reputation, had failed.</p>
+<p>In an awed silence this remarkable man placed on the table a
+dish, somewhat like a soup-plate in appearance, and carefully
+removed its glass cover.</p>
+<p>"In this dish, gentlemen," said the Professor, "we have the
+Agar-Agar, which is without doubt the best bacteriological culture
+medium yet discovered and is especially useful in growing a
+pathogenic organism such as we are about to test this
+afternoon."</p>
+<p>Then taking a glass rod, to the end of which was attached a
+small piece of platinum wire, the lecturer proceeded to scrape a
+little of the growth from off the Agar-Agar. Having done this he
+quickly deposited it in a test-tube half full of distilled water,
+which he then heated over a Bunsen burner. Finally, with the aid of
+a hypodermic syringe, a little of the liquid was injected into two
+sleepy-looking guinea-pigs, and with bated breath the result of the
+test was awaited.</p>
+<p>Suddenly, without any warning, the two little animals rose on
+their hind legs and violently clutched each other by any part of
+the body on which they could get a grip. Before the astounded gaze
+of the onlookers they swayed, nearly fell, then went round in
+circles, at the same time executing every sort of conceivable
+contortion.</p>
+<p>A great cheer burst from the audience. From all sides a rush was
+made for the platform, and the Professor was carried shoulder-high
+round the room.</p>
+<p>The Jazz germ had been discovered at last.</p>
+<hr />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href=
+"images/368.png"><img width="100%" src="images/368.png" alt=
+"AND YOU MAY THANK YOUR STARS I'VE GOT A MUZZLE ON!" /></a>
+<p><i>Pekinese (who has been accidentally pushed into the gutter by
+gigantic bloodhound).</i> "AND YOU MAY THANK YOUR STARS I'VE GOT A
+MUZZLE ON!"</p>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<h4>A Friendly Offer.</h4>
+<p>"A French Gentleman would like to make acquaintance with and
+English one to improve the English language."&mdash;<i>French
+Provincial Paper</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"Ste. Genevi&egrave;ve (422-572), born just outside Paris, spent
+a long life in the city."&mdash;<i>Daily Paper.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>Wherever it was spent, it was clearly a long life.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"&mdash;&mdash; College is the chosen home, the favoured haunt
+of educational success. Our staff is composed of lineal descendants
+of poets, seers, or savants, and it is the intention of this
+formidable phalanx of intellectuals to drive the whole world before
+them! We, of course, will say that these classes will be famous,
+and well worth attending. In Carlyle especially, the undersigned,
+with due modesty, expects to constitute himself a Memnon, and to
+receive the sage of Chelsea's martial pibroch from Hades, transmit
+it to the listeners, and to thrill them to the very marrow of their
+bones!"&mdash;<i>Advt. in Indian Paper</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>We should like to hear what the sage's martial pibroch has to
+say about the advertiser's "due modesty."</p>
+<hr />
+<h2>LAXITY IN QUOTATIONS.</h2>
+<p>Among the many privileges which I propose to claim as a set-off
+for what are called advancing years is a greater laxity in
+quotation. When I have made a quotation I mean that that shall
+<i>be</i> the quotation, and I don't intend to be driven either to
+the original source or to cyclopaedias of literature for
+verification. DANTE, for instance, is a most prolific fount of
+quotations, especially for those who do not know the original
+Italian. If I have quoted the words "<i>Galeotto fu il libro e chi
+lo scrisse</i>" once, I have quoted them a hundred times, always
+with an excellent effect and often giving the impression that I am
+an Italian scholar, which I am not. But surely it is not usual to
+abstain from a quotation because to use it would give a false
+impression? I am perfectly certain, for instance, that there are
+plenty of Italians who quote <i>Hamlet</i>, but know no more of
+English than the words they quote, so I dare say that brings us
+right in the end.</p>
+<p>Then there is the quotation about "a very parfitt gentil
+knight," or words to that effect. At the moment of writing it down
+I felt that my version was so correct that I would go to the
+scaffold for it; but at this very instant a doubt insinuates
+itself. Is "parfitt" with two "t's" the right spelling?</p>
+<p>It is related somewhere that TENNYSON and EDWARD FITZGERALD once
+conspired together to see which of them could write the most
+Wordsworthian line, and that the result was:&mdash;</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"A Mr. Wilkinson, a clergyman."</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>But there was no need for TENNYSON to go beyond his own works in
+search of such an effect. He had already done the thing; and this
+was his effort, which occurs in <i>The May Queen</i>:&mdash;</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"And that good man, the clergyman, has told me words of
+peace."</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>This sounds as if it could not be defeated or matched, but matched
+it certainly was in <i>Enoch Arden</i>. After describing <i>Enoch
+Arden's</i> death and the manner in which he "roll'd his eyes" upon
+<i>Miriam</i>, the bard informs us:&mdash;</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"So past the strong heroic soul away.</p>
+<p>And when they buried him the little port</p>
+<p>Had seldom seen a costlier funeral."</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>But I feel that I have strayed beyond my purpose, which was to
+claim a certain mitigated accuracy in quotation for those who
+suffer from advancing years.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"&mdash;&mdash;, chambermaid at the &mdash;&mdash; Hotel,
+&mdash;&mdash;, was charged yesterday with stealing two diamond
+rings and a diamond and sapphire broom worth
+&pound;80."&mdash;<i>Daily Paper</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>Yet Mr. CHAMBERLAIN refuses to impose a Luxury Tax.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>From a list of the German Peace-delegates:&mdash;"Baron von
+Lersner, chief of the preliminary mission and ex-secretary of the
+German Embassy in Washington. He was also formerly attached to the
+German Embassy in Wales."&mdash;<i>Belfast News Letter</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>This sounds like another injustice to Ireland.</p>
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page369" id="page369"></a>[pg
+369]</span>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href=
+"images/369.png"><img width="100%" src="images/369.png" alt=
+"DO YOU KNOW, CHILDREN, THAT AT ONE TIME, LONG AGO, WE USED TO HAVE FIVE TOES ON EACH HAND, AND LIVE IN TREES?" />
+</a>
+<p><i>Scientific Uncle</i>. "DO YOU KNOW, CHILDREN, THAT AT ONE
+TIME, LONG AGO, WE USED TO HAVE FIVE TOES ON EACH HAND, AND LIVE IN
+TREES?"</p>
+<p><i>Niece</i>. "WE WON'T TELL ANYBODY, UNCLE."</p>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<h2>THE ANNIVERSARY.</h2>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>The 23rd. To-day, my son,</p>
+<p class="i2">Two turgid years ago,</p>
+<p>Your father battled with the Hun</p>
+<p class="i2">At five A.M. or so;</p>
+<p>This was the day (if I exclude</p>
+<p>A year of painful servitude</p>
+<p>Under the Ministry of Food)</p>
+<p class="i2">I struck my final blow.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Ah, what a night! The cannon roared;</p>
+<p class="i2">There was no food to spare;</p>
+<p>And first it froze and then it poured;</p>
+<p class="i2">Were we dismayed? We were.</p>
+<p>Three hundred yards we went or more,</p>
+<p class="i2">And, when we reached, through seas of gore,</p>
+<p>The village we were fighting for,</p>
+<p class="i2">The Germans were not there.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>But miles behind a 9&middot;2</p>
+<p class="i2">Blew up a ration dump;</p>
+<p>Far, far and wide the tinned food flew</p>
+<p class="i2">From that tremendous crump:</p>
+<p>And one immense and sharp-toothed tin</p>
+<p>Came whistling down, to my chagrin,</p>
+<p>And caught me smartly on the shin&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">By Jove, it made me jump.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>A hideous wound. The blood that flowed!</p>
+<p class="i2">It was a job to dress;</p>
+<p>I hobbled bravely down the road</p>
+<p class="i2">And reached a C.C.S.;</p>
+<p>Nor was I so obsessed with gloom</p>
+<p>At leaving thus the field of doom</p>
+<p>As one might easily assume</p>
+<p class="i2">From stories in the Press.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Though other soldiers as they fell&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Or so the papers say&mdash;</p>
+<p>Cried, "GEORGE for England! Give 'em hell!"</p>
+<p class="i2">(It was ST. GEORGE'S Day),</p>
+<p>Inspiring as a Saint can be,</p>
+<p>I should not readily agree</p>
+<p>That anyone detected me</p>
+<p class="i2">Behaving in that way.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Such is the tale. And, year by year,</p>
+<p class="i2">I shall no doubt relate</p>
+<p>For your fatigued but filial ear</p>
+<p class="i2">The history of this date;</p>
+<p>Yet, though I do not now enhance</p>
+<p>The crude events of that advance,</p>
+<p>There is a wild fantastic chance</p>
+<p class="i2">That they will grow more great.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>So be you certain while you may</p>
+<p class="i2">Of what in fact occurred,</p>
+<p>And if I have the face to say</p>
+<p class="i2">On some far 23rd</p>
+<p>That on this day the war was won,</p>
+<p>That I despatched a single Hun,</p>
+<p>Or even caught a glimpse of one&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2"><i>Don't you believe a word</i>.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="center">A.P.H.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<h4>Another Impending Apology.</h4>
+<p>"Miss &mdash;&mdash; looked sweetly pretty in an emerald-green
+satin (very short) skirt, white blouse, and emerald handkerchief
+tied over her head&mdash;an Irish Colleen, and a bonie one
+too!"&mdash;<i>Colonial Paper</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"According to a Vienna message, the Government has introduced a
+Bill dealing with the former reigning Mouse of
+Austria."&mdash;<i>Provincial Paper</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>Alas, poor KARL! <i>Ridiculus mus</i>.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"Wanted one hour daily from ten to eleven morning at convenience
+an English Talking Family for practice of talking. Remuneration
+twenty rupees per mensem."&mdash;<i>Times of India</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>We know one or two "talking families" that we should be glad to
+export.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"In finding the defendant &pound;3, Mr. Price told the defendant
+that he would get into serious trouble if he persisted in his
+conduct."&mdash;<i>Evening Paper</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>And he may not meet such a generous magistrate next time.</p>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"Englishman, well educated, desires afternoon engagement;
+experienced in the care of children; good needlewoman; or would
+assist light housework."&mdash;<i>Canadian Paper</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>We hope we shall hear no further complaints from Canada that
+Englishmen are not adaptable.</p>
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page370" id="page370"></a>[pg
+370]</span>
+<h3>COMMUNICATIONS.</h3>
+<p>I was sitting in the Club, comfortably concealed by sheets of a
+well-known journal, when two voices, somewhere over the parados of
+the deep arm-chair, broke in upon my semi-consciousness.</p>
+<p>"... Then poor old Tubby, who hasn't recovered from his 1918
+dose of shell-shock, got a go of claustrophobia and felt he simply
+had to get out of the train."</p>
+<p>The speaker paused and I heard the clink of glass.</p>
+<p>"Well?" said the other voice.</p>
+<p>"So, before we could flatten him out, he skipped up and pulled
+the communicator thing and stopped the train; consequently we ran
+into Town five minutes behind time. There was the deuce of a buzz
+about it."</p>
+<p>"What's five minutes in this blissful land of lotus-eaters? Why,
+I've known the Calais-Wipers express lose itself for half-a-day
+without a murmur from anyone, unless the Brigadier had run out of
+bottled Bass."</p>
+<p>"But, my dear fellow," the first voice expostulated, "this was
+the great West of England non-stop Swallowtail; runs into Town
+three minutes ahead of time every trip. Habitu&eacute;s of the line
+often turn an honest penny by laying odds on its punctuality with
+people who are strangers to the reputation of this flier."</p>
+<p>"A pretty safe thing to bet on, eh?" said the other voice. Again
+there was the faint clink of glass and then the voices drifted into
+other topics, to which, having re-enveloped myself in my paper, I
+became oblivious.</p>
+<p>A few days later I was called away from London, with Mr. Westaby
+Jones, to consult in a matter of business. Mr. Westaby Jones is a
+member of the Stock Exchange and, amongst other trivial failings,
+he possesses one which is not altogether unknown in his profession.
+He cannot resist a small wager. On several occasions he has gambled
+with me and shown himself to be a gentleman of considerable
+acumen.</p>
+<p>Our business was finished and we were on the way back to Town by
+the great West of England non-stop Swallowtail. We had lunched well
+and discussed everything there was to discuss. It was a moment for
+rest. I unfolded my paper and proceeded to envelop myself in the
+usual way.</p>
+<p>I seemed to hear the chink of glasses ... a voice murmured, "A
+pretty safe thing to bet on."</p>
+<p>Then in a dreamy sort of manner I realised that Fate had
+delivered Westaby Jones into my hands. When we were within twenty
+miles of London I opened the campaign. I grossly abused the line on
+which we were travelling and suggested that anybody could make a
+fortune by assuming that its best train would roll in well after
+the scheduled time.</p>
+<p>Westaby Jones, having privily ascertained that the engine-driver
+had a minute or so in hand, immediately pinned me down to what he
+thought (but wisely did not say) were the wild inaccuracies of an
+imbecile. He did it to the extent of twenty-five pounds, and I sat
+back with the comfortable feeling of a man who will shortly have a
+small legacy to expend. At the moment which I had calculated to be
+most auspicious I suddenly threw off the semblance of boredom, rose
+up, lurched across the carriage and pulled the communication cord.
+(For the benefit of those who have not done this I may say that the
+cord comes away pleasantly in the hand and, at the same time, gives
+one a piquant feeling of unofficial responsibility.) Westaby Jones
+was, for a stockbroker, obviously astonished.</p>
+<p>"What on earth are you doing?" he exclaimed.</p>
+<p>"Sit down," I said; "this is my improved exerciser."</p>
+<p>"But you'll stop the train," he shouted.</p>
+<p>"Never mind," I replied; "what's a fine of five pounds compared
+to physical fitness? Besides," I added significantly, "it may be a
+good investment after all."</p>
+<p>For perhaps twenty seconds there was the silent tension of
+expectation in the air and then I realised with a shock that the
+train did not show any signs of slackening speed. It was, if
+anything, going faster. I snatched frantically at the cord and
+pulled about half-a-furlong into the carriage. We flashed past
+Ealing like a rocket, and I desperately drew in coils and coils of
+the communicator until I and Westaby Jones resembled the Laocoon.
+It was no good. Smoothly and irresistibly we glided into the
+terminus and drew up at the platform three minutes ahead of
+time.</p>
+<p>I have paid Westaby Jones, who was unmannerly enough to look
+pleased. I have also corresponded with the railway company,
+claiming damages on the grounds of culpable negligence.
+Unfortunately they require more evidence than I am prepared to
+supply of the reasonable urgency of my action.</p>
+<hr />
+<p>From a theatre programme:&mdash;</p>
+<blockquote>
+<p>"The name of the actual and responsible Manager of the premises
+must be printed at least once during every performance to ensure
+its being in proper order."</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>So that explains the noise going on behind the scenes.</p>
+<hr />
+<h3>NATURE NOTES.</h3>
+<p>The Cuckoo has arrived and will sing as announced.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>One of the results of the arrival of the Cuckoo is the
+prevalence of notices, for those that have eyes to see, drawing
+attention to the ineligible character of nests. These take a
+variety of forms&mdash;such as "All the discomforts of home,"
+"Beware of mumps," "We have lost our worm cards," "Serious
+lining-shortage"&mdash;but the purpose of each is to discourage the
+Cuckoo from depositing an egg where it is not wanted.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>From all parts of the country information reaches us as to the
+odd nesting-places of wrens and robins. A curious feature is the
+number of cases where letter-boxes have been chosen, thus
+preventing the delivery of letters, and in consequence explaining
+why so many letters have not been answered. Even the biggest
+dilatory correspondent is not ashamed to take advantage of the
+smallest bird.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>The difficulty of obtaining muzzles is very general and many
+dog-owners have been hard put to it to comply with the regulation.
+From these, however, must be excepted those who possess wire-haired
+terriers, from whose coats an admirable muzzle can be extracted in
+a few minutes.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>The statement of a telephone operator, that "everything gives
+way to trunks," is said to have caused great satisfaction in the
+elephant house at the Zoo.</p>
+<hr />
+<h3>PLEASE.</h3>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Please be careful where you tread,</p>
+<p class="i2">The fairies are about;</p>
+<p>Last night, when I had gone to bed,</p>
+<p class="i2">I heard them creeping out.</p>
+<p>And wouldn't it be a dreadful thing</p>
+<p class="i2">To do a fairy harm?</p>
+<p>To crush a little delicate wing</p>
+<p class="i2">Or bruise a tiny arm?</p>
+<p>They 're all about the place, I know,</p>
+<p>So do be careful where you go.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Please be careful what you say,</p>
+<p class="i2">They're often very near,</p>
+<p>And though they turn their heads away</p>
+<p class="i2">They cannot help but hear.</p>
+<p>And think how terribly you would mind</p>
+<p class="i2">If, even for a joke,</p>
+<p>You said a thing that seemed unkind</p>
+<p class="i2">To the dear little fairy folk.</p>
+<p>I'm sure they're simply everywhere,</p>
+<p>So <i>promise</i> me that you'll take care.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="center">R.F.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page371" id="page371"></a>[pg
+371]</span>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href=
+"images/371.png"><img width="100%" src="images/371.png" alt=
+"'TISN'T 'COS I LOVE YOU--IT'S 'COS YOU SMELL SO NICE." /></a>
+<p><i>Harold (after a violent display of affection).</i> "'TISN'T
+'COS I LOVE YOU&mdash;IT'S 'COS YOU SMELL SO NICE."</p>
+</div>
+<hr />
+<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2>
+<p class="center"><i>(By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned
+Clerks.)</i></p>
+<p>The Great Man is, I suppose, among the most difficult themes to
+treat convincingly in fiction. To name but one handicap, the author
+has in such cases to postulate at least some degree of acquaintance
+on the part of the reader with his celebrated subject. "Everyone is
+now familiar," he will observe, "with the sensational triumph
+achieved by the work of X&mdash;&mdash;;" whereat the reader,
+uneasily conscious of never having heard of him, inclines to
+condemn the whole business beforehand as an impossible fable. I
+fancy Mr. SOMERSET MAUGHAM felt something of this difficulty with
+regard to the protagonist of his quaintly-called <i>The Moon and
+Sixpence</i> (HEINEMANN), since, for all his sly pretence of
+quoting imaginary authorities, we have really only his unsupported
+word for the superlative genius of <i>Charles Strickland</i>, the
+stockbroker who abandoned respectable London to become a
+Post-impressionist master, a vagabond and ultimately a Pacific
+Islander. The more credit then to Mr. MAUGHAM that he does quite
+definitely make us accept the fellow at his valuation. He owes
+this, perhaps, to the unsparing realism of the portrait. Heartless,
+utterly egotistical, without conscience or scruple or a single
+redeeming feature beyond the one consuming purpose of his art,
+<i>Strickland</i> is alive as few figures in recent fiction have
+been; a genuinely great though repellent personality&mdash;a man
+whom it would have been at once an event to have met and a pleasure
+to have kicked. Mr. MAUGHAM has certainly done nothing better than
+this book about him; the drily sardonic humour of his method makes
+the picture not only credible but compelling. I liked especially
+the characteristic touch that shows <i>Strickland</i> escaping, not
+so much from the dull routine of stockbroking (genius has done that
+often enough in stories before now) as from the pseudo-artistic
+atmosphere of a flat in Westminster and a wife who collected blue
+china and mild celebrities. <i>Mrs. Strickland</i> indeed is among
+the best of the slighter characters in a tale with a singularly
+small cast; though it is, of course, by the central figure that it
+stands or falls. My own verdict is an unhesitating <i>stet</i>.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>If there be any who still cherish a pleasant memory of the
+Bonnie Prince CHARLIE of the Jacobite legend, Miss MARJORIE BOWEN'S
+<i>Mr. Misfortunate</i> (COLLINS) will dispose of it. She gives us
+a study of the YOUNG PRETENDER in the decade following Culloden.
+Figures such as LOCHIEL, KEITH, GORING, the dour KELLY, HENRY
+STUART, LOUIS XV., with sundry courtiers and mistresses, move
+across the film. I should say the author's sympathy is with her
+main subject, but her conscience is too much for her. I find myself
+increasingly exercised over this conscience of Miss BOWEN'S. She
+seems to me to be deliberately committing herself to what I can
+only describe as a staccato method. This was notably the case with
+<i>The Burning Glass</i>, her last novel. Her narratives no longer
+seem to flow. She will give you catalogues of furniture and
+raiment, with short scenes interspersed, for all the world as if
+she were transcribing from carefully taken notes. Quite probably
+she is, and I am being authentically instructed and should be duly
+grateful, but I find myself longing for the exuberance of her
+earlier method. I feel quite sure this competent author can find a
+way of respecting historical truth without killing the full-blooded
+flavour of romance.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>There is a smack of the Early Besantine about the earnest
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page372" id="page372"></a>[pg
+372]</span> scion of a noble house who decides to share the lives
+and lot of common and unwashed men with an eye to the imminent
+appearance of the True Spirit of Democracy in our midst. Such a one
+is the hero of Miss MAUD DIVER'S latest novel, <i>Strange Roads</i>
+(CONSTABLE); but it is only fair to say that <i>Derek Blunt</i>
+(<i>n&eacute;</i> Blount), second son of the <i>Earl of
+Avonleigh</i>, is no prig, but, on the contrary, a very pleasant
+fellow. For a protagonist he obtrudes himself only moderately in a
+rather discursive story which involves a number of other people who
+do nothing in particular over a good many chapters. We are halfway
+through before <i>Derek</i> takes the plunge, and then we find,
+him, not in the slums of some industrial quarter, but in Western
+Canada, where class distinctions are founded less on soap than on
+simoleons. At the end of the volume the War has "bruk out," and our
+hero, apart from having led a healthy outdoor life and chivalrously
+married and been left a widower by a pathetic child with
+consumption and no morals, is just about where he started. I say
+"at the end of the volume," for there I find a publisher's note to
+the effect that in consequence of the paper shortage the further
+adventures of our hero have been postponed to a subsequent volume.
+It is to be entitled <i>The Strong Hours</i>, and will doubtless
+provide a satisfactory <i>raison d'&ecirc;tre</i> for all the other
+people who did nothing in particular in Vol. I.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>If you had numbered <i>Elizabeth</i>, the heroine of <i>A Maiden
+in Malaya</i> (MELROSE), among your friends, I can fancy your
+calling upon her to "hear about her adventures in the East." I can
+see her delightedly telling you of the voyage, of the people she
+met on board (including the charming young man upon whom you would
+already have congratulated her), of how he and she bought curios at
+Port Said, of her arrival, of her sister's children and their
+quaint sayings, of Singapore and its sights, of Malaya and how she
+was taken to see the tapping on a rubber plantation&mdash;here I
+picture a gleam of revived interest, possibly financial in origin,
+appearing in your face&mdash;of the club, of dinner parties and a
+thousand other details, all highly entertaining to herself and
+involving a sufficiency of native words to impress the
+stay-at-home. And perhaps, just as you were considering your chance
+of an escape before tea, she would continue "and now I must tell
+you all about the dreadful time I had in the rising!" which she
+would then vivaciously proceed to do; and not only that, but all
+about the dreadful time (the same dreadful time) that all her
+friends had in the same rising, chapters of it, so that in the end
+it might be six o'clock or later before you got away. I hope this
+is not an unfair <i>r&eacute;sum&eacute;</i> of the impression
+produced upon me by Miss ISOBEL MOUNTAIN'S prattling pages. To sum
+up, if you have an insatiable curiosity for the small talk of other
+people's travel, <i>A Maiden in Malaya</i> may not prove too much
+for it. If otherwise, otherwise.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>I wish Col. JOHN BUCHAN could have been jogging Mrs. A.C.
+INCHBOLD'S elbow while she was writing <i>Love and the Crescent</i>
+(HUTCHINSON), All the essential people in his <i>Greenmantle</i>,
+which deals, towards the end at any rate, with just about the same
+scenes and circumstances as her story, are so confoundedly
+efficient, have so undeniably learnt the trick of making the most
+of their dashing opportunities. In Mrs. INCHBOLD's book the trouble
+is that with much greater advantages in the way of local knowledge
+and with all manner of excitement, founded on fact, going
+a-begging, nothing really thrilling or convincing ever quite
+materialises. The heroine, Armenian and beautiful, is as
+ineffective as the hero, who is French and heroic, both of them
+displaying the same unfortunate tendency to be carried off captive
+by the other side and to indulge in small talk when they should be
+most splendid. And the majority of the other figures follow suit.
+On the face of it the volume is stuffed with all the material of
+melodrama; but somehow the authoress seems to strive after effects
+that don't come naturally to her. What does come naturally to her
+is seen in a background sketch of the unhappy countries of Asia
+Minor in the hands of the Turk and the Hun, which is so much the
+abler part of the book that one would almost rather the too
+intrusive narrative were brushed aside entirely. Personally, at any
+rate, I think I should prefer Mrs. INCHBOLD in essay or historical
+form.</p>
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>Madame ALBANESI, in <i>Tony's Wife</i> (HOLDEN AND HARDINGHAM),
+has provided her admirers with a goodly collection of sound
+Albanesians, but she has also given them a villain in whom, I
+cannot help thinking, they will find themselves hard-pressed to
+believe. <i>Richard Savile</i> was deprived of a great inheritance
+by <i>Tony's</i> birth, and as his guardian spent long years in
+nourishing revenge. He was not, we know, the first guardian to play
+this game, but that he could completely deceive so many people for
+such a long time seems to prove him far cleverer than appears from
+any actual evidence furnished. If, however, this portrait is not in
+the artist's best manner, I can praise without reserve the picture
+of <i>Lady F&eacute;o</i>, a little Society butterfly, very
+frivolous on the surface, but concealing a lot of nice intuition
+and sympathy, and I welcome her as a set-off to the silly
+caricatures we commonly get of the class to which she belonged. Let
+me add that in the telling of this tale Madame ALBANESI retains her
+quiet and individual charm.</p>
+<hr />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href=
+"images/372.png"><img width="100%" src="images/372.png" alt=
+" A MARCH-PAST AS PORTRAYED BY OUR TYPIST ON HER MACHINE." /></a>A
+MARCH-PAST AS PORTRAYED BY OUR TYPIST ON HER MACHINE.</div>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<h4>A Curious Romanian Custom.</h4>
+<p>"The two white doves which were perched in the wedding carriage
+excited much interest. They were given, following the pretty
+Roumanian cuckoo, to the bride and bridegroom by the people of
+Roumania to symbolise the happiness and peace which are hoped to
+the newly-married couple."&mdash;<i>North Mail</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<hr />
+<blockquote>
+<p>"A ROMANTIC COURTSHIP IN TURKEY.</p>
+<p>Miss &mdash;&mdash; visited Colonel &mdash;&mdash; when boat,
+money, a hiding-place in Constantinople last summer suffering from
+smallpox."&mdash;<i>Provincial Paper.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>There seem here to be all the elements of romance, but the story
+suffers from overmuch compression. We shall wait to see it on the
+film.</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12079 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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