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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:39:20 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:39:20 -0700 |
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diff --git a/12231-h/12231-h.htm b/12231-h/12231-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad19193 --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/12231-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1951 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st November 2003), see www.w3.org" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, May 21, 1919.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[*/ + + <!-- +body { +margin-left: 10%; +margin-right: 10%; +} +p { +text-align : justify; +} +blockquote { +text-align : justify; +} +h1 , h2 , h3 , h4 , h5 , h6 { +text-align : center; +} +pre { +font-size : 0.7em; +} +hr { +text-align : center; +width : 50%; +} +html > body hr { +margin-right : 25%; +margin-left : 25%; +width : 50%; +} +hr.full { +width : 100%; +} +html > body hr.full { +margin-right : 0%; +margin-left : 0%; +width : 100%; +} +hr.short { +text-align : center; +width : 20%; +} +html > body hr.short { +margin-right : 40%; +margin-left : 40%; +width : 20%; +} +.note { +margin-left : 10%; +margin-right : 10%; +font-size : 0.9em; +} +.center { +text-align : center; +} +.author { +text-align : right; +} +span.pagenum { +position : absolute; +left : 1%; +right : 91%; +font-size : 8pt; +} +.poem { +margin-left : 10%; +margin-right : 10%; +margin-bottom : 1em; +text-align : left; +} +.poem .stanza { +margin : 1em 0; +} +.poem p { +margin : 0; +padding-left : 3em; +text-indent : -3em; +} +.poem p.i2 { +margin-left : 1em; +} +.poem p.i4 { +margin-left : 2em; +} +.poem p.i6 { +margin-left : 3em; +} +.poem p.i8 { +margin-left : 4em; +} +.poem p.i10 { +margin-left : 5em; +} +.figure , .figcenter , .figright , .figleft { +padding : 1em; +margin : 0; +text-align : center; +font-size : 0.8em; +} +.figure img , .figcenter img , .figright img , .figleft img { +border : none; +margin-bottom : 1em; +} +.figure p , .figcenter p , .figright p , .figleft p { +margin : 0; +text-indent : 1em; +} +.figcenter { +margin : auto; +} +.figright { +float : right; +} +.figleft { +float : left; +} +.footnote { +font-size : 0.9em; +margin-right : 10%; +margin-left : 10%; +} +--> +/*]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12231 ***</div> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> +<h2>Vol. 156.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>May 21, 1919.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page393" id="page393"></a>[pg +393]</span> +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> +<p>"We thought it was to be a <i>Peace</i> Conference," remarks the +<i>Berliner Tageblatt</i> sadly. Instead of which it turned out to +be another Diet of Worms.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"Wanted a Dock Examiner," says a technical paper advertisement. +Now if they had only wanted a Duke examiner we have the very man in +mind.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Several correspondents have written to <i>The Daily Express</i> +asking whether it is not unlucky to be married on a Friday. Our own +experience is that it doesn't make much difference which day it +is.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>We learn on good authority that an airman recently flew from +Newfoundland to the English coast, but immediately returned as he +considered that the weather was unfavourable for landing. As the +whole affair appears to have been hushed up it is thought that he +was of American nationality.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"A seasonable dish," says <i>Household Hints</i>, "is <i>crab au +gratis</i>." We can only say that in our own experience it never +seems to be in season at the smartest restaurants.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>An American Army doctor has discovered that sea-sickness +originates in the ears. This confirms the old theory that persons +who sleep with both ears pressed against the pillow are never +sea-sick.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Presents given prior to engagements, says Judge CLUER, are in +the nature of bait and cannot be recovered. Once the angler is +safely hooked a different situation arises.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"I am confident," writes "J.E.P." in <i>The Daily Mail</i>, +"that nineteen out of twenty men do not know what they should do on +being bitten by a mad dog." The common practice of trying to bite +the dog back is admittedly inadequate.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The London County Council have decided not to remove the marks +of damage done by aircraft to the base of Cleopatra's Needle. It +seems that they have also had to refuse the request of some +curio-hunters who asked if they might have the indentations as +mementos.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Owing to the inflated price of silver, a contemporary points +out, the shilling now contains only ten-pence half-penny worth of +silver. More important however is the fact that, owing to the +inflated cheek of dairymen, it only contains three pennyworth of +milk.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"Singing," says Dr. HENRY COWARD, "is a valuable preventive +against influenza." It is also known that certain streptococci have +an intense dislike to the trombone.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The parishioners of All Saints' Church, South Acton, are invited +by the clergy to say what they would like to be preached to about. +The little boy who wrote that he would like a sermon on the proper +way to feed white rats is still hopeful.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>It appears that a Wallasey licensee, in order to satisfy his +customers, sent a sample of Government ale to be analysed. We +understand that the analyst reported that there was nothing in +it.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"I don't go to the pictures," says Mr. H.G. WELLS. It is not +clear whether the Academy or the cinema is meant, but it shows that +the famous novelist is, after all, only human, like so many of +us.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>As a result of high prices, says <i>The Daily Express</i>, +ladies may now be seen at Longchamps without stockings. We have +noticed similar signs of the high price of ladies' dresses in this +country.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Sir NEVILLE MACREADY'S statement that "burglars to-day often +resort to violence" has caused much annoyance, and the famous +police chief is to be asked to receive a deputation of London +burglars to discuss the point.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Under no circumstances, says a medical leaflet, should flies be +allowed in the house. If they knock at the front-door and then rush +past you, send for a policeman.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A Streatham resident is offering a reward of ten shillings for +the return of a "ginger" cat which has been lost. As the owner has +shown no other traces of the effect of the hot weather the +authorities have decided not to pursue the case.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Things are coming to a pretty pass in Ireland. Just because a +man attempted to murder somebody in County Armagh the police have +threatened to arrest him.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>An ex-special constable, relating his experiences in a weekly +magazine, mentions that he once found a perfectly good alarum-clock +on the doorstep of a neighbour's house. Further investigation +would, no doubt, have resulted in the discovery of the milk-jug on +the bedroom mantelpiece.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"A young man should kiss a girl on either the left or the right +cheek," says a writer on hygiene in a weekly paper. As the option +of either cheek is given, many young men will no doubt hesitate +between the two.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>An evening paper reports that a live shell was found "laying" in +an open field near Southend. This seems a sure sign that the +nesting-season is now in full swing, and it seems a pity that we +did not think of this method of shell-production during the +War.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"No honest German," says Herr SCHEIDEMANN, "can possibly sign +the Peace Treaty." The best plan, perhaps, would be to call for +volunteers and take the risk as to qualification.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href= +"images/393.png"><img width="100%" src="images/393.png" alt= +"Boxer (amidst a babel of advice)." /></a> +<p><i>Boxer (amidst a babel of advice</i>). "LOOK 'ERE—CHUCK +IT! I GOT DEMOBILISED AS A <i>ONE-MAN</i> BUSINESS."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<p>From a recent law-report:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"I say 'Civis Britannicus Sam.'"—<i>Evening Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It is proposed, we understand, to adopt this as the motto of the +Anglo-American Union.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page394" id="page394"></a>[pg +394]</span> +<h2>BREST-BUCHAREST-VERSAILLES.</h2> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Oh, those were palmy days at Brest!</p> +<p class="i2">You had no sort of scruples then;</p> +<p>You knelt at ease on Russia's chest,</p> +<p class="i2">Dipped in her blood your iron pen,</p> +<p>Dictated terms the most abhorrent</p> +<p>And made her sign her own death-warrant.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>At Bucharest 'twas much the same:</p> +<p class="i2">You had Roumania under heel;</p> +<p>No pity here nor generous shame,</p> +<p class="i2">But just the argument of steel,</p> +<p>The logic of the butcher's knife—</p> +<p>And so she signed away her life.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>These object-lessons learnt by rote,</p> +<p class="i2">As once we learnt your poison-gas,</p> +<p>Your pupils now are shocked to note</p> +<p class="i2">How Teuton wits, a little crass,</p> +<p>Mistake for rude assault and battery</p> +<p>Our imitation's feeble flattery.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>We could not copy, line for line,</p> +<p class="i2">The perfect models made by you;</p> +<p>Yet the ideals they enshrine</p> +<p class="i2">We dimly strove to keep in view,</p> +<p>Trying to draft, with broad effect,</p> +<p>The kind of Peace that you'd expect.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Our efforts miss the cultured touch</p> +<p class="i2">By which we saw your own inspired;</p> +<p>They leave—beside the model—much,</p> +<p class="i2">Oh very much to be desired;</p> +<p>We've no excuse except to say</p> +<p>We were not built the German way.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But why these wails and tears and whines?</p> +<p class="i2">I must assume that they are bluff,</p> +<p>That, as compared with your designs,</p> +<p class="i2">You find our terms are easy stuff,</p> +<p>And, with your tongue against your cheek,</p> +<p>You'll sign the lot within a week.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p class="center">O.S.</p> +<hr /> +<h2>THE BEETLE OF BUDA-PESTH.</h2> +<p class="center">AN UNRECORDED EPISODE OF THE GREAT WAR.</p> +<p>The War being now practically at an end and Austria-Hungary +irrevocably broken up, I am able to recount an adventure, in which +I was involved, that occurred at Buda-Pesth in the second week of +August, 1914.</p> +<p>Seated at a café on the famous Franz-Josef Quai, I was +sipping coffee, after an excellent lunch, with Frederick, whose +surname I will not mention in case I get into trouble for relating +the incident before Peace is actually signed. The sun shone +joyously down upon the kaleidoscope of gaily dressed people +promenading by the cool waters of the Danube, and we sat +engrossed—I in the charm of the scene, and Frederick in that +of individual beauties who passed to and fro.</p> +<p>Suddenly I noticed that he was staring intently upon the ground +a few yards in front of him. I asked him what was the matter.</p> +<p>"Perceive," he replied in a very serious tone, "a small beetle +of the order of Coleoptera making its way across the pavement?"</p> +<p>"I do perceive it," I replied; "but what about it?"</p> +<p>"Does it not occur to you," he continued, "that it is a very +remarkable thing that that beetle should have already travelled six +feet across the most crowded promenade in Buda-Pesth without having +been trodden on?"</p> +<p>Being used to Frederick I do not take him too seriously and made +no reply, intending to brush the incident aside, but I found my +gaze continually returning to Coleopteron, conscious of that +peculiar fascination which attracts one to impending tragedy. It +was evident that he had just left the café and was hurrying +across the promenade to catch the little steamer which was due to +leave in ten minutes for Ofen. It was also evident to any thinking +individual that there must be some extraordinarily urgent reason +for his wishing to catch the boat which justified him in taking the +awful risks which he was incurring. The position was full of human +interest and I became as intrigued as Frederick.</p> +<p>It seemed that Coleopteron was under some divine protection +which enabled him to elude so large a crowd. One lady stepped right +on him, but apparently, by a piece of brilliant footwork, he +managed to get in the arch between the sole and the heel and so +survive. Another promenader brushed him with his boot and knocked +him over, but he doggedly continued on his way.</p> +<p>I was conscious of a greatly accelerated beating of my heart and +noticed that Frederick was perspiring freely.</p> +<p>Half-way across the twenty-foot pavement Coleopteron was sniffed +at by a dog and our hearts stopped beating, but again he was saved +by the fact that the dog was on a chain and just hadn't time to eat +him before he was dragged after his mistress.</p> +<p>I noticed now that Frederick's eyes were protruding from his +head and that he was muttering to himself. I too felt the strain +telling upon me, A shrill whistle from the little steamer warning +passengers to hurry up was immediately responded to by Coleopteron, +who increased his speed to the utmost, when suddenly Frederick's +trembling hand caught mine.</p> +<p>"Look!" he said, and, following his gaze, I saw approaching +twelve gendarmes. We did not speak; we did not need to invite each +other's views; our minds had but a single thought—Coleopteron +could not possibly escape twenty-four Hungarian Government +boots.</p> +<p>On scurried our little friend and on came the gendarmes. I was +conscious of a feeling of physical sickness, and Frederick groaned +aloud. As the dreadful moment of contact approached we shut our +eyes tight and each gripped the other's hand. How long we remained +like this I cannot tell, for we were both afraid to look and see +the my smudge on the pavement indicating a hero's end; but +eventually, by mutual arrangement, we opened our eyes, and then we +saw—not a smudge, but Coleopteron still advancing quite +unconcerned. It was a miracle.</p> +<p>"I can't stand it any longer," cried Frederick, to the amazement +of those sitting about us outside the café, "I shall go +mad!" and, leaping up from his seat, he rushed across the promenade +and, taking from his pocket a picture-postcard of some Hungarian +beauty, he coaxed Coleopteron to walk on to it, then bore him +triumphantly back and deposited him upon the leaf of a palm which +overhung our table.</p> +<p>Shortly afterwards the little steamer whistled again and left +the quay.</p> +<p>Frederick remained silent for some time as befits a man who has +saved a life, and then arose to have a look at Coleopteron and +doubtless to make himself better known to the little hero; but to +his pained surprise Coleopteron was not to be found. All over that +palm he searched in vain and on the floor; then suddenly he emitted +a gurgling sound and I saw that he was in the grip of deep emotion. +There was a look on his face I had never seen before, and I +anxiously asked him what had happened. For some time he could not +speak, but stood gazing vacantly into space. At last, with parched +lips, he spoke.</p> +<p>"Look in the milk-jug!" he said, and sank into his chair.</p> +<p>For a moment I thought that Frederick had been poisoned, and +then I realised the truth, for there in the hot milk floated the +corpse of Coleopteron.</p> +<p>"Why did he do it?" pleaded Frederick with a break in his +voice.</p> +<p>"Because," I replied, "you hadn't the sense to realise that he +was staking his all on catching that boat, and, instead of helping +him, you brought him back to where he started from."</p> +<hr /> +<p>Early the next morning, at Frederick's desire, we left +Buda-Pesth <i>en route</i> for the Swiss Frontier. It was +impossible, if he was to retain his reason, to stay longer in a +city that had for him such tragic associations.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page395" id="page395"></a>[pg +395]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/395.png"><img width="100%" src="images/395.png" alt= +"THE PEACE QUEUE." /></a> +<h3>THE PEACE QUEUE.</h3> +<p>AUSTRIA <i>(to Germany).</i> "GET A MOVE ON!"</p> +<p>BULGARIA. "IT'S NO GOOD HAGGLING; WE'VE ALL GOT TO HAVE IT."</p> +<p>TURKEY. "WELL, I'M LAST, AND I DON'T CARE HOW LONG ANYBODY +TAKES."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page396" id="page396"></a>[pg +396]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/396.png"><img width="100%" src="images/396.png" alt= +"DASH IT! I DON'T SEE WHY WE SHOULDN'T GET UNEMPLOYMENT PAY." /></a> +<p><i>Temporary Officer (in department which they have forgotten to +close down).</i> "DASH IT! I DON'T SEE WHY WE SHOULDN'T GET +UNEMPLOYMENT PAY."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>A CAPITAL OUTLAY.</h2> +<p>It was, in a sense, mutual. We had chickens; the chickens had +us. On the other hand, they had the best of the bargain. We kept +them; and they did not keep us.</p> +<p>My aunt insisted that we <i>must</i> keep chickens, and you know +my aunt.</p> +<p>Pardon! You don't know my aunt. She is an elderly maiden lady +who "keeps house" for me. She is eminently +practical—theoretically speaking.</p> +<p>She insisted. "With eggs at eightpence it's a sin and a shame +not to keep hens in war-time."</p> +<p>I urged that the food would cost a good many +eightpences—in war-time.</p> +<p>Her reply was "Pshaw!" (She really does say "Pshaw"—and +means it.) "Pshaw! they will live on kitchen scraps."</p> +<p>We consulted Nibletts. He has a local reputation as a chicken +expert, mainly, I believe, because he's a butcher. He recommended a +breed called Wild Oats (by which he meant, I discovered, +Wyandottes).</p> +<p>"You take my tip, Sir," he said, "and buy Wild Oats. If you'll +excuse the word—" (Nibletts is always apologising for some +term he is about to use, which promises to be inexpressibly +shocking to polite ears, and never is)—"they're +clinkers."</p> +<p>We ordered a round dozen. We also bought a hen-house fitted with +all modern conveniences. The total outlay represented a prince's +ransom; but, as I pointed out to my aunt, we had a run for our +money.</p> +<p>The hens, when they arrived, were not strictly "as per" +advertisement. We bought them as laying pullets, and they didn't +lay for quite a time—so far as we knew. Nibletts, however, +declared that they were "what you might call in the pink," and +surmised that the train journey had "put 'em off the lay, as you +might say." If eating and fighting were evidences of their being +"in the pink," those birds must have enjoyed exceptional health. +They also slept well, I believe.</p> +<p>After about a month one enormous egg arrived—an egg that +would not have disgraced a young ostrich. Its huge dimensions +worried my aunt. She wondered if they were a symptom, and consulted +Nibletts.</p> +<p>He put it down to the food. He said that kitchen scraps were "no +good for laying pullets." "That egg, lady," he said, "is what us +fanciers call—excuse me—" (I saw my aunt shudder in +anticipation)—"a bloomer. You must give 'em a lot more +meal."</p> +<p>We bought a big sack of meal—through the medium of +Nibletts. If I remember rightly it cost rather more than the +pullets.</p> +<p>Still no eggs. Then some of the hens went out of "the pink." For +instance, one developed a chronic habit of running centripetally +round a constantly diminishing circle, fainting on arriving at the +geometrical centre. My distressed aunt called in Nibletts to +prescribe. There was only one word for it—that awful word +"staggers." There was only one cure for it—death. Should he +wring its neck?</p> +<p>We feelingly withdrew, and he did it. He took the corpse away +with him, so that he presumably had a use for it.</p> +<p>Soon a second pullet went down with a considerably swollen face. +My aunt bathed it twice a day in a hot anti-septic, but to no +purpose, except that the poor thing seemed much comforted by the +fomentation. That hen was, Nibletts whispered to me, for fear +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page397" id="page397"></a>[pg +397]</span> my aunt should overhear, "a waster." The only thing to +do was to coop it up from the rest, or they'd all go down with +it—whatever it was.</p> +<p>We cooped it up till it died. Nibletts certified the cause of +death as that unmentionable complaint, the pip.</p> +<p>Still no eggs, notwithstanding repeated appeals in the sacred +name of <i>Macduff</i>. We did, however, find out what the trouble +was.</p> +<p>The hens were eating the eggs!</p> +<p>Nibletts said—under his breath—that they were what +was known as "blighters." He recommended (deprecating the term) a +"stodger." A "stodger" proved to be an egg-shell stuffed with +bread-crumbs, mustard and the strongest photographic ammonia.</p> +<p>My aunt said it would be cruel. It was certainly rough on me. +Nibletts apologetically directed me to blow an egg—"a shop +'un 'd do." Accordingly, following his instructions, I injected or +otherwise introduced the ingredients through a small aperture. It +was the bread-crumbs that gave me most trouble; but it was the +photographic ammonia that was "cruel." The mustard went in quite +easily with a squirt.</p> +<p>I stopped the holes with paper stuck on with sealing-wax and put +the <i>oeuf farci</i> in the run. I waited to see what would +happen. It happened at once. All ten hens went for that egg in a +convergent attack, and all ten pecks got home simultaneously. The +deputation then hurriedly withdrew, with loud protests, and spent +the rest of the day wiping their beaks in the cool earth.</p> +<p>But they remained recalcitrant. They systematically +cannibalized. A cackle from the layer brought all the rest to the +spot; and I simply couldn't stay there all day to forestall the +onslaught.</p> +<p>Nibletts suggested our getting a patent laying-box, furnished +with (what he apologised to my aunt for calling) a false front. My +aunt did not at first grasp the idea, but what Nibletts did in fact +refer to was a contrivance that would admit one sitter only at a +time, subsequent unauthorised entrance being cut off by an +ingenious drop slide. Further elaborate construction also prevented +the sitter herself from turning round to peck. She had to remain +sitting till some human came and lifted her out.</p> +<p>Just one egg was laid in that patent box. The object of it was +also patent—to the hens. Nothing would induce them to use it +after that once.</p> +<p>Nibletts then recommended (if he might so describe it) a +"tit-up." That was, so to speak, a conjuring-trick of a laying-box, +which let the egg fall through a trap-door into a padded cell +beneath. My aunt thought it unnatural and feared that it might be +exhausting. Nevertheless we tried it, and extracted one solitary +egg from the basement.</p> +<p>Then, being an engineer by profession, I conceived a mechanical +means of giving those hens the scare of their lives if they +persisted in their antisocial habits. I constructed a "spoof" egg +of white enamelled metal, with hinges that opened when a catch was +touched. Inside I compressed one of those jack-in-the-box snakes +that spring out when free to do so.</p> +<p>It was quite effective—as a parlour-trick. Those hens +pecked the catch loose, and that cockatrice fairly staggered them. +It was to them a clear case of "nourishing a viper." But all was as +before.</p> +<p>Nibletts then gave up the case as (what he might be excused for +calling) a "fair corker." Should he wring their (pause) necks?</p> +<p>We thought it best so, and gave him a couple of "laying pullets" +for his trouble. The other eight kept us going monotonously for +about a month.</p> +<p>The house is still on offer. Houses are scarce just now.</p> +<p>I have sown my Wyandottes.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>It was the income-tax man that suggested the title that I have +given to my story. I disagreed with him <i>in toto</i>. But he +persisted that it wasn't an "expense."</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href= +"images/397.png"><img width="100%" src="images/397.png" alt= +"MIGHT I SUGGEST, SIR, THAT EITHER YOU PASS FURTHER DOWN THE CAR OR TAKE A COURSE OF PHYSICAL TRAINING?" /> +</a> +<p><i>Ex-Soldier</i> (<i>to stout passenger</i>). "MIGHT I SUGGEST, +SIR, THAT EITHER YOU PASS FURTHER DOWN THE CAR OR TAKE A COURSE OF +PHYSICAL TRAINING?"</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page398" id="page398"></a>[pg +398]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/398.png"><img width="100%" src="images/398.png" alt= +"COVENT GARDEN!" /></a> <i>Mr. Skivvington-Smyth (loudly).</i> +"COVENT GARDEN!" <i>Taximan +(equally loudly).</i> "MARKET?"</div> +<hr /> +<h2>THE NOMADS.</h2> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"There are no houses in the Town,"</p> +<p>Said Mr. Smith (of Smith and Brown);</p> +<p>I hardly like to put it down,</p> +<p class="i2">But that's what he asserted;</p> +<p>So thereupon I went to Anne</p> +<p>And told her of my brilliant plan,</p> +<p>Which is, to purchase from a man</p> +<p>A furniture-removal van,</p> +<p class="i2">And have the thing converted.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Within that mobile villa gay</p> +<p>We shall not choose, though gipsies may,</p> +<p>Through country lanes and woods to stray,</p> +<p class="i2">Not likely. We shall enter</p> +<p>An up-to-date Bohemian lot,</p> +<p>And, if you read <i>The Daily Rot</i>,</p> +<p>You'll find it has observed us (what?)</p> +<p>Proceeding at a smartish trot</p> +<p class="i2">Through London's throbbing centre.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And there will be some curious stirs,</p> +<p>Unless my fancy greatly errs,</p> +<p>At restaurants and theatres</p> +<p class="i2">When our distinctive turn-out</p> +<p>Lines up with all the others there,</p> +<p>And we look out with quite an air</p> +<p>And order the commissionaire</p> +<p>Kindly to put the little stair</p> +<p class="i2">That hangs behind the stern out.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And, when at nights our prancing team</p> +<p>(I have before me now a scheme</p> +<p>To use auxiliary steam)</p> +<p class="i2">Desires to seek its stable,</p> +<p>Why, John—I have not mentioned John;</p> +<p>He is the man who sits upon</p> +<p>The front of the Pantechnicon—</p> +<p>Will take them off. And when they're gone,</p> +<p class="i2">And hush succeeds to Babel,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>We'll rest within our home complete</p> +<p>Wherever seems to us most sweet,</p> +<p>And none shall say that such a street</p> +<p class="i2">Or such a square is pleasant,</p> +<p>But we shall answer straightway, "Yes,</p> +<p>We used to live at that address;</p> +<p>Quite jolly. But we liked it less.</p> +<p>Than opposite the Duke of S.</p> +<p class="i2">In Amaranthine Crescent."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But if in wandering to and fro</p> +<p>We chance to see—you never know—</p> +<p>One house that has "TO LET" to show</p> +<p class="i2">And find report has tricked us,</p> +<p>And there <i>are</i> houses in the Town,</p> +<p>We'll simply dump our chattels down</p> +<p>And challenge Smith (of Smith and Brown)</p> +<p>Or any landlord, bar the Crown,</p> +<p class="i2">To blooming well evict us.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="center">EVOE.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"A visit was paid to Exeter, yesterday afternoon, by +Lieut.-General Sir Henry Crichton Selater, G.C.B., K.C.B., +C.B."—<i>Provincial Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>More fortunate than the LORD CHANCELLOR, the gallant General +seems to have had three Baths allotted to him.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"The enemy is engaged vigorously in making his expected protest +against the Peace Terms.... To show the depth of his emotion he has +declared a week of mourning. Theatres may remain open, but must +stage plays appropriate to the occasion."</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It is rumoured that the first play chosen was <i>Measure for +Measure</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"The War Office says there is no authority whatever for the +statement that General Townshend would shortly be appointed +Commander-in-Chief in the Tower Hamlets, +F.C."—<i>Star</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mr. Punch begs leave to say that this item of football news did +not appear in his columns.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page399" id="page399"></a>[pg +399]</span> +<h2>PROCRASTINATION.</h2> +<p>A few mornings ago I found among my letters a tragic +document—a bill. A first quick glance at it filled me with +despair, because I was luxuriating in that Fools' Paradise produced +by the illusion that one is all paid up. Of course one never is; +there is always something that one forgets, and this must have been +it; so that, instead of perfect freedom from liability, here I was +apparently still owing no less a sum than £5 9<i>s</i>.</p> +<p>The figures looked familiar enough, although disconcerting, but +I rubbed my eyes when I found that they were made up of two items +that had never come my way; the first being one-and-a-half dozen +essences, £3 15<i>s</i>., and the second, a dozen <i>poudre +assortie,</i> £1 14<i>s</i>. It could not be for me. Essences +and powders wholesale are not in my line, nor is my acquaintance so +extensive among the Fair as these quantities would imply.</p> +<p>A moment later all my anxieties dispersed and tragedy turned to +comedy when I realised that the bill was for the hairdresser with +the same name as my own, who lives next door but one and gets so +much of my correspondence.</p> +<p>I therefore put the bill on my desk, intending to take it into +the shop when I went out; and forgot it.</p> +<p>The Russian Corps de Ballet at the Alhambra is an assemblage of +charming and gifted people who are at last giving their admirers +full measure. Now that they have a vast theatre of their own and +perform three ballets every night the old frustrated feeling that +used to tantalise us at the Opera and the Coliseum has vanished. +But I have still a grievance, and that is that the programme is so +rarely the programme that I myself would have arranged. In other +words the three ballets that form it are seldom the Big Three that +are nearest my heart. To be explicit, I want <i>Petroushka</i>, and +instead I find myself not knowing where to look while +<i>Scheherazade</i> unfolds its appalling freedoms; I want <i>Les +Sylphides</i>, and instead am given <i>Les Papillons</i>, which is +very lovely but not of an equal loveliness; and I want +<i>Carnaval</i>, and instead am offered the perplexities of <i>The +Fire Bird</i>. It happened, however, that one night recently the +perfect programme was given—<i>Carnaval, Les Sylphides</i> +and <i>Petroushka</i>; but there was not a seat in the house, and I +therefore had to stand in great discomfort, so that half the joy +evaporated.</p> +<p>"Meanwhile" (I seem to hear you say) "what of the hairdresser +who has the same name as yourself and plies his trade next door but +one? This story—which so far is a poor enough thing—was +surely to have been about him." (So I seem to hear you say.)</p> +<p>Patience! It is about him, but it is also about the evils of +procrastination. In short, it is a kind of tract.</p> +<p>On the morning after my disappointing evening at the Alhambra, +while moving some papers on my desk, I brought to light the bill +for the powder and the essences. "Good Heavens!" I murmured, "the +poor fellow will be distracted not to have this;" and I took it in +to him straightway.</p> +<p>I apologised for the delay.</p> +<p>"There is no hurry," he replied. "Accounts can wait; But I +hope," he added, taking an envelope from a drawer, "that this +letter for you is equally unimportant. It came, I'm afraid, four +days ago, and I was always meaning to bring it in, but forgot."</p> +<p>Unimportant! It was merely an invitation from the most adorable +woman in London to share her box at the Russian Ballet on the +previous night, to see what she knew was my most desired +performance, <i>Carnaval, Les Sylphides</i> and +<i>Pelroushka</i>.</p> +<p>Either the hairdresser or I must move.</p> +<p>Or we must both take a course of memory training. I believe +there is some system on the market.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href= +"images/399.png"><img width="100%" src="images/399.png" alt= +"WE DON'T YET REALISE, MY BOY, ALL THE VAST CHANGES THIS WAR WILL MAKE." /> +</a> +<p>"WE DON'T YET REALISE, MY BOY, ALL THE VAST CHANGES THIS WAR +WILL MAKE."</p> +<p>"NO, SIR. BUT ISN'T IT RATHER A LOT OF BLITHER ABOUT BRIGHTER +CRICKET?"</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"Wanted, five unfurnished Rooms and bath (1 large for music +studio)."—<i>Local Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>We are glad to note the spread of the healthful habit of singing +in the bath.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page400" id="page400"></a>[pg +400]</span> +<h2>THE PERILS OF REVIEWING.</h2> +<p>A most unfortunate thing has happened to a friend of mine called +—— to a friend of —— to a friend of +——. Well, I suppose the truth will have to come out. It +happened to me. Only don't tell anybody.</p> +<p>I reviewed a book the other day. It is not often I do this, +because before one can review a book one has to, or is supposed to, +read it, which wastes a good deal of time. Even that isn't an end +of the trouble. The article which follows is not really one's own, +for the wretched fellow who wrote the book is always trying to push +his way in with his views on matrimony, or the Sussex downs, or +whatever his ridiculous subject is. He expects one to say, "Mr. +Blank's treatment of <i>Hilda's</i> relations with her husband is +masterly," whereas what one wants to say is, "Putting Mr. Blank's +book on one side we may consider the larger question, whether +——" and so consider it (alone) to the end of the +column.</p> +<p>Well, I reviewed Mr. Blank's book, <i>Rotundity</i>. As I +expected, the first draft had to be re-headed "A Corner of Old +London," and used elsewhere; Mr. Blank didn't get into it at all. I +kept promising myself a sentence: "Take <i>Rotundity,</i> for +instance, the new novel by William Blank, which, etc.," but before +I was ready for it the article was finished. In my second draft, +realizing the dangers of delay, I began at once, "This remarkable +novel," and continued so for a couple of sentences. But on reading +it through afterwards I saw at once that the first two sentences +were out of place in an article that obviously ought to be called +"The Last Swallow;" so I cut them out, sent "The Last Swallow: A +Reverie" to another Editor, and began again. The third time I was +successful.</p> +<p>Of course in my review I said all the usual things. I said that +Mr. Blank's attitude to life was "subjective rather than objective" +... and a little lower down that it was "objective rather than +subjective." I pointed out that in his treatment of the major theme +he was a neo-romanticist, but I suggested that, on the other hand, +he had nothing to learn from the Russians—or the Russians had +nothing to learn from him; I forget which. And finally I said (and +this is the cause of the whole trouble) that ANTOINE VAURELLE'S +world-famous classic—and I looked it up in the +Encyclopaedia—world-renowned classic, <i>Je Comprends +Tout</i>, had been not without its influence on Mr. Blank. It was a +good review, and the editor was pleased about it.</p> +<p>A few days later Mr. Blank wrote to say that, curiously enough, +he had never read <i>Je Comprends Tout</i>. It didn't seem to me +very curious, because I had never read it either, but I thought it +rather odd of him to confess as much to a stranger. The only book +of VAURELLE'S which I had read was <i>Consolatrice</i>, in an +English translation. However, one doesn't say these things in a +review.</p> +<p>Now I have a French friend, Henri, one of those annoying +Frenchmen who talks English much better than I do, and Henri, for +some extraordinary reason, had seen my review. He has to live in +London now, but his heart is in Paris; and I imagine that every +word of his beloved language which appears, however casually, in an +English paper mysteriously catches his eye and brings the scent and +sounds of the <i>boulevards</i> to him across the coffee-cups. So +the next time I met him he shook me warmly by the hand, and told me +how glad he was that I was an admirer of ANTOINE VAURELLE'S +novels.</p> +<p>"Who isn't?" I said with a shrug, and, to get the conversation +on to safer ground, I added hastily that in some ways I almost +liked <i>Consolatrice</i> best.</p> +<p>He shook my hand again. So did he. A great book.</p> +<p>"But of course," he said, "one must read it in the original +French. It is the book of all others which loses by +translation."</p> +<p>"Of course," I agreed. Really, I don't see what else I could +have done.</p> +<p>"Do you remember that wonderful phrase ——" and he +rattled it off. "Magnificent, is it not?"</p> +<p>"Magnificent," I said, remembering an appointment instead. +"Well, I must be getting on. Good-bye." And, as I walked off, I +patted my forehead with my handkerchief and wondered why the day +had grown so warm suddenly.</p> +<p>However the next day was even warmer. Henri came to see me with +a book under his arm. We all have one special book of our own which +we recommend to our acquaintances, regarding the love of it as +perhaps the best passport to our friendship. This was Henri's. He +was about to test me. I had read and admired his favourite +VAURELLES—in the original French. Would I love his daring +LAFORGUE? My reputation as a man, as a writer, as a critic, +depended on it. He handed me the book—in French.</p> +<p>"It is all there," he said reverently, as he gave it to me. "All +your English masters, they all come from him. Perhaps, most of all +your —— But you shall tell me when you have read it. +You shall tell me whom most you seem to see there. Your MEREDITH? +Your SHAW? Your —— But you shall tell me."</p> +<p>"I will tell you," I said faintly.</p> +<p>And I've got to tell him.</p> +<p>Don't think that I shall have any difficulty in reading the +book. Glancing through it just now I came across this:—</p> +<p>"<i>'Kate, avez-vous soupé avant le spectacle?'</i></p> +<p><i>'Non, je n'avais guère le coeur à manger.'"</i></p> +<p>Well, that's easy enough. But I doubt if it is one of the most +characteristic passages. It doesn't give you a clue to LAFORGUE'S +manner, any more than "'Must I sit here, mother?' 'Yes, without a +doubt you must,'" tells you all that you want to know about +MEREDITH. There's more in it than that.</p> +<p>And I've got to tell him.</p> +<p>But fancy holding forth on an author's style after reading him +laboriously with a dictionary!</p> +<p>However, I must do my best; and in my more hopeful moments I see +the conversation going like this:—</p> +<p>"Well?"</p> +<p>"Oh, wonderful." <i>(With emotion)</i> "Really wonderful."</p> +<p>"You see them all there?"</p> +<p>"Yes, yes. It's really—wonderful. MEREDITH—I +mean—well, it's simply—(<i>after a pause</i>) +wonderful."</p> +<p>"You see MEREDITH there most?"</p> +<p>"Y—yes. Sometimes. And then sometimes I—I don't" +(<i>with truth</i>). "It's difficult to say. Sometimes +I—er—SHAW—er—well, it's ——" +(<i>with a gesture somewhat Gallic</i>) "How can I put it?"</p> +<p>"Not THACKERAY at all?" he says, watching me eagerly.</p> +<p>I decide to risk it.</p> +<p>"Oh, but of course! I mean—THACKERAY! When I said MEREDITH +I was thinking of the <i>others</i>. But THACKERAY—I mean +THACKERAY <i>is</i>— er—" (<i>I've forgotten his name +for the moment and go on hastily</i>) I +mean—er—THACKERAY, obviously."</p> +<p>He shakes me by the hand. I am his friend.</p> +<p>But this conversation only takes place in my more hopeful +moments. In my less hopeful ones I see myself going into the +country for quite a long time.</p> +<p class="author">A.A.M.</p> +<hr /> +<h4>Another Impending Apology.</h4> +<blockquote> +<p>"The book contains a portrait of the author and several other +quaint illustrations."—<i>Daily Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"Miss Leitch played delightful golf up to the hole, but when +once she had arrived there the result was almost ludicrous, as she +could not hit the ball truly with her puttee."—<i>Evening +Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Personally we have always found this an ineffective weapon.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page401" id="page401"></a>[pg +401]</span> +<h3>ROYAL ACADEMY-SECOND DEPRESSIONS.</h3> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/401-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/401-1.png" alt= +"IN THE DAYS OF AULD LANGSIDE." /></a>IN THE DAYS OF AULD LANGSIDE. +<table width="100%" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" +summary=""> +<tr> +<td width="40%"> +<p><i>The Despatch-Bearer.</i> "EXCUSE ME, SIR, BUT THE QUEEN IS +HERE. YOU ARE REQUESTED TO MAKE AS LITTLE NOISE AS POSSIBLE, AND, +ABOVE ALL, <i>NO BLOODSHED</i>."</p> +</td> +<td> </td> +<td width="50%"><i>Bothwell (to Mary, Queen of Scots).</i> "IF YOU +WOULD DEIGN TO TURN YOUR HEAD A LITTLE, DEAR MADAM, YOU WILL FIND +THAT THE BATTLE IS OVER HERE."</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width:45%;"><a href= +"images/401-2.png"><img width="100%" src="images/401-2.png" alt= +"I NEVER GET TIRED OF THIS STORY ABOUT DICK WHITTINGTON." /></a> +<p><i>The Cheshire Cat.</i> "I NEVER GET TIRED OF THIS STORY ABOUT +DICK WHITTINGTON."</p> +</div> +<div class="figright" style="width:45%;"><a href= +"images/401-3.png"><img width="100%" src="images/401-3.png" alt= +"POOR WILLIAM HASN'T BEEN HIMSELF SINCE ARMISTICE DAY." /></a> +<p><i>The Profiteer's Wife (sadly).</i> "POOR WILLIAM HASN'T BEEN +HIMSELF SINCE ARMISTICE DAY."</p> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width:20%;"><a href= +"images/401-4.png"><img width="100%" src="images/401-4.png" alt= +"UP WITH ME, UP WITH ME INTO THE CLOUDS." /></a> +<p><i>The Man (listening to the lark and quoting the poet).</i> "UP +WITH ME, UP WITH ME INTO THE CLOUDS."</p> +<p><i>The Lady</i>. "OH, JOHN, LET US STAY HERE. I DON'T FEEL IN AN +AVIATING MOOD TO-DAY."</p> +</div> +<br /> +<br /> +<div class="figright" style="width:45%;"><a href= +"images/401-7.png"><img width="100%" src="images/401-7.png" alt= +"MISS WINNIE WENDOVER SELECTS HER COSTUMES FOR THE NEW REVUE." /></a> +<p>MISS WINNIE WENDOVER SELECTS HER COSTUMES FOR THE NEW REVUE. THE +CHARMING AND TYPICALLY ENGLISH ACTRESS IN HER DELIGHTFUL TURKISH +BUNGALOW NEAR STAINES.</p> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:20%;"><a href= +"images/401-5.png"><img width="100%" src="images/401-5.png" alt= +"WHAT ROTTEN LUCK! I SIMPLY DAREN'T GO JAZZING WITH THIS BLACK EYE!" /> +</a> +<p><i>The Spoilt Beauty.</i> "WHAT ROTTEN LUCK! I SIMPLY +<i>DAREN'T</i> GO JAZZING WITH THIS BLACK EYE!"</p> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width:40%;"><a href= +"images/401-6.png"><img width="100%" src="images/401-6.png" alt= +"THE SCRAP OF PAPER." /></a> +<p>"THE SCRAP OF PAPER." <i>Both (mentally).</i> "WHAT A FINE +DRAMATIC SUBJECT THIS WOULD MAKE FOR AN ACADEMY PICTURE!"</p> +</div> +<br clear="all" /> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page402" id="page402"></a>[pg +402]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/402.png"><img width="100%" src="images/402.png" alt= +"SHOULD I CALL 'IM 'YER ROYAL 'IGHNESS, SIR, OR 'SPOT YALLER'?" /></a> +<p><i>Billiard-marker (awed by rank of visitor—a foreign +prince who has joined in a game of pool).</i> "SHOULD I CALL 'IM +'YER ROYAL 'IGHNESS, SIR, OR 'SPOT YALLER'?"</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>THE HAIRIES.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>We have carried our lancer's, hussars and dragoons</p> +<p class="i2">And tugged in the batteries, columns and trains,</p> +<p>On <i>pavé</i> that smoked under white summer noons</p> +<p class="i2">And tracks that washed out under black winter +rains.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>We've shivered in standings hock-deep in the mud,</p> +<p class="i2">With matted tails turned to the drift of the +sleet;</p> +<p>We've seen the bombs flash and been spattered with blood</p> +<p class="i2">Of mates as they rolled, belly-ripped, at our +feet.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>We've dragged ammunition up shell-smitten tracks,</p> +<p class="i2">Round bottomless craters, through stump-littered +woods;</p> +<p>When the waggons broke down took the load on our backs</p> +<p class="i2">And somehow or other delivered the goods.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But the dread roads, the red roads will know us no more;</p> +<p class="i2">Oh, it's England, chum, England for you and for +me!</p> +<p>The countryfolk wave us as westward we pour</p> +<p class="i2">Down the jolly white highways that lead to the +sea.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>There's a mist of frail blossom adrift in the trees,</p> +<p class="i2">The Spring song of birds sets the orchards +a-thrill;</p> +<p>And now on our brows blows the salt Channel breeze,</p> +<p class="i2">The busy port hums in the lap of the hill.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>So warp out your transports and bear us away</p> +<p class="i2">From the Yser and Somme, from the Ancre and the +Aisne,</p> +<p>From fire-blackened deserts of shell-pitted clay,</p> +<p class="i2">And give us our Chilterns and Cotswolds again.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Oh, show us old England all silver and gold,</p> +<p class="i2">With the flame o' the gorse and the flower o' the +thorn;</p> +<p>We long for lush meadow-lands where we were foaled</p> +<p class="i2">And boast of great runs with the Belvoir and +Quorn.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The pack-pony dreams of a primrosy combe,</p> +<p class="i2">A leisurely life in a governess-cart,</p> +<p>Plum-cake and a bottle-nosed gardener-groom;</p> +<p class="i2">The Clyde has a Wensleydale farm in his heart.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>We whinny and frolic, light-headed with bliss,</p> +<p class="i2">Forgetting leg-weariness, terror and scars;</p> +<p>Ye ladies of England, oh, blow a soft kiss</p> +<p class="i2">To the hairy old horses come home from the wars.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="center">PATLANDER.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>TO-MORROW.</h3> +<p>"To-morrow," said the brave young subaltern, "if my Company +Commander curses my men for having long hair, I'll whip off his own +hat and show him to be three weeks overdue at the barber's.</p> +<p>"To-morrow, if the Adjutant finds fault with my salute, I'll +give him a faithful imitation of his own ridiculous ear-flip.</p> +<p>"To-morrow, if the Major strafes me for my handling of the +platoon on the barrack-square, I'll challenge him to detail +'presenting arms, by numbers.'</p> +<p>"To-morrow, if the Colonel checks my men for being slovenly +turned out on parade, I'll publicly point out to him that the +buttons of his own pockets are undone and that the ends of his +bootlaces are hanging out.</p> +<p>"To-morrow, if the General curses a man for rubbing his nose +while at attention, I'll openly suggest to him that it is not smart +and soldierlike to slouch along with one hand in your pocket while +inspecting the ranks.</p> +<p>"To-morrow, if I get the chance, I'll do all these things. I +have put off doing them far too long."</p> +<p>So spake the brave young subaltern, knowing full well that he is +to be demobbed to-day.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"A Tooting hen is laying two eggs a day."—<i>Evening +Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Then it seems to us that she is quite justified in tooting.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page403" id="page403"></a>[pg +403]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/403.png"><img width="100%" src="images/403.png" alt= +"THE LOVING CUP: A PARTING TOAST." /></a> +<h3>THE LOVING CUP: A PARTING TOAST.</h3> +BRITISH LION <i>(to American Eagle).</i> "HERE'S LUCK TO YOU. YOU +BROUGHT IT TO ME."</div> +<hr /> +<!--Blank page 404--> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page405" id="page405"></a>[pg +405]</span> +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> +<p><i>Monday, May 12th</i>.—Lord FRENCH'S newspaper +revelations were brought to the notice of Mr. CHURCHILL, who +adduced the cases of the late Lords WOLSELEY and ROBERTS as +evidence that Field-marshals, when unemployed, have always been +allowed considerable freedom of criticism. The fact that Lord +FRENCH is Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland and (nominal) +Commander-in-Chief of the considerable army employed in that +country makes no difference; but ordinary serving officers are +still subject to the Regulations and will take FRENCH leave at +their peril.</p> +<p>In the course of a further discussion on milk—prices, +about which the West Country is still up in arms, Mr. MCCURDY +dropped the remark that it was impossible to control cream, owing, +no doubt, to its notorious insurrectionary tendencies; and Colonel +WEIGALL removed a load of suspicion from some of our minds by the +emphatic declaration that "a cow was not a pump, of which the +supply could be turned off or on as one liked."</p> +<p>The FIRST COMMISSIONER OF WORKS was not very hopeful about the +removal of the buildings which disfigure the Parks. The most he +could say was that he was doing his best to get the camouflage +school out of Kensington Gardens, and let nature have a chance.</p> +<p><i>Tuesday, May 13th</i>.—The Lords defeated the +Government by inserting in the Ministry of Health Bill a provision +that the new Minister should have only one Parliamentary Secretary. +In vain Lord SANDHURST protested that the amendment would tie the +PRIME MINISTER'S hands. Lord MIDLETON was delighted to think that +it would. Lord CREWE declared that the creation of minor Ministers +was becoming a disease (possibly the Ministry of Health will +include it among "notifiable" epidemics?). Lord BLEDISLOE quoted +the old tag about big fleas and little fleas. But after all there +must be some check to the inveterate tendency to somnolence in the +public offices.</p> +<p>When the Ways and Communications Bill was before the Commons the +Minister-Designate buttressed his case with the alarming statement +that there would be a deficit of one hundred millions this year on +the working of the railways. Members were therefore surprised to +find in the Budget that only sixty millions was provided to meet +it. Even in these days a discrepancy of forty millions does not +pass entirely unnoticed. When taxed with it, Mr. CHAMBERLAIN said +he thought it was due to Government traffic not having been allowed +for in the original calculation, but advised his questioner to ask +Sir ERIC GEDDES to explain. For some reason—can it be the +formidable appearance of the GEDDES chin?—Sir JOSEPH WALTON +did not seem greatly pleased at the prospect.</p> +<p>Like many another Chief Secretary before him, Mr. IAN +MACPHERSON, who reappeared in the House after a long absence in +Ireland, had to figure with a scourge in one hand and an olive +branch in the other. At Question-time he was the stern upholder of +law and order, obliged within the last few days to suspend a +seditious newspaper and to surround the Dublin Mansion House with +soldiers. A few moments later he was moving the Second Reading of a +most generous Housing Bill, under which Irish Corporations will be +enabled to build thousands of dwellings largely at the expense of +the general taxpayer.</p> +<div class="figright" style="width:65%;"><a href= +"images/405.png"><img width="100%" src="images/405.png" alt= +"FAILING TO DIFFER." /></a>FAILING TO DIFFER.<br /> +SIR EDWARD CARSON AND MR. DEVLIN.</div> +<p>In his warm welcome to the measure Sir EDWARD CARSON revealed a +side of his character not often seen, except by his personal +friends. He was so sympathetic to the needs of the Irish +working-classes, so eloquent upon the benefits to health, sobriety +and contentment that good houses would secure, and so insistent +upon the necessity of making the new dwellings beautiful as well as +useful, that Mr. DEVLIN could do little more than say "ditto to Mr. +BURKE."</p> +<p><i>Wednesday, May 16th</i>.—Those persons, at home and +abroad, who persist in regarding the British as universal +land-grabbers will please note that Spitsbergen, despite the +undoubted fact that an Englishman landed there three centuries ago, +leaves us cold. Although no direct response was made to Mr. +ASHLEY'S suggestion that the future of the island should be +referred to the Coal Commission, it is widely felt that if Mr. +SMILLIE and Sir LEO CHIOZZA MONEY would volunteer to explore its +possibilities they would be doing the country signal service.</p> +<p>The drawbacks of having the Leadership of the Opposition in +commission were further exemplified when Sir DONALD MACLEAN in his +most impressive manner asked for a day to discuss Lord FRENCH'S +communications to the Press. Mr. BONAR LAW inquired if he desired +to move a Vote of Censure in his capacity as Leader of the +Opposition. "No, no," shouted the supporters of the rival +claimants, Mr. ADAMSON and Mr. GEORGE LAMBERT. Whereupon Sir DONALD +altered his tone and mildly observed that he only wanted to clear +up a constitutional point.</p> +<p>The debate on Mr. HARTSHORN'S motion regarding the state of +Ireland was unique of its kind in that not a single Member +representing an Irish constituency took the floor; but in spite of +that it produced more heat than light. Both the mover and the +seconder (Mr. SEXTON) were rich in denunciation of the present +Government of Ireland, but poverty-stricken in suggestions for its +improvement. Lord HENRY BENTINCK seized the opportunity to make +final recantation of his Unionist principles, but in default of +more practical proposals was reduced to imploring the people of +Ulster "to show some spirit of compromise;" and Lord HUGH CECIL in +a despairing moment declared that he would sooner see three-fourths +of Ireland independent than the whole of it presented with a form +of Home Rule which no Irishman desired. After that one appreciated +Sir KEITH ERASER'S remark, that during four years' soldiering in +Ireland he had only met one man who understood the Irish Question, +and he was an Englishman who had only been there a week!</p> +<p><i>Thursday, May 15th</i>.—The intelligent <span class= +"pagenum"><a name="page406" id="page406"></a>[pg 406]</span> +foreigner who should try to disentangle the causes of Egyptian +unrest from the speeches delivered in both Houses this afternoon +will be rather puzzled. From Captain WEDGWOOD BENN in the Commons +he would learn that it was due to the ineptitude of the British +Administration, the ill-treatment of the natives by the Army of +Occupation, and in particular the unsympathetic attitude adopted by +Lord CURZON towards the Nationalist leaders, one of whom, according +to Captain BENN, "held in Egypt a position comparable with that of +Mr. Speaker here." Across the corridor at the very same moment Lord +CURZON was asserting that Egypt was enjoying extraordinary material +prosperity, that the British soldiery had shown wonderful restraint +in very trying circumstances and that the Government had not the +least desire to repress Egyptian individuality (when not too +exuberant, of course) or deny to natives an ever-increasing share +in the administration of their country. They would have been quite +ready to listen to ZAGHLUL and his friends if they had not begun by +demanding the complete disappearance of British rule. The +intelligent foreigner will probably come to the conclusion that +Egypt is very like Ireland—except that it has no Ulster.</p> +<p>General SEELY gave a fairly plausible explanation of the +apparently wanton destruction of new aeroplanes that is going on at +Farnborough and elsewhere. Owing to the rapid progress in aviation +they were already obsolete for military purposes before they were +delivered. They are quite unsuitable for civilian use, and are +therefore being "reduced to produce"—a euphemism for +"scrapped."</p> +<p>Mr. SHORTT was not in his place, but the interests of the Home +Department did not suffer in the hands of the Under-Secretary. Sir +HAMAR GEEENWOOD rattles out his replies with the speed and accuracy +of a machine-gun, and has a neat formula for dealing with +"supplementaries": "All these further Questions are covered by my +original answer."</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"But in course of time sympathetic Americans and the other +tribes will be searching the ruins of burned-out passions and +agonies, armed with the rewritten Badaeker or its Allied +equivalent."—<i>Manchester Guardian</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The re-writing seems to have begun already.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href= +"images/406.png"><img width="100%" src="images/406.png" alt= +"The Muzzled One" /></a> +<p><i>The Muzzled One</i>. "TAKE MY TIP, YOUNG FELLER, AND HOP +IT—<i>QUICK</i>. THERE'S A COPPER COMING."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>MORE MUSICAL RECONSTRUCTION.</h2> +<p class="center"><i>(By our Special Reporter, who is also busy +with the Coal Commission.)</i></p> +<p>At the three hundred and seventeenth sitting of the Musical +Reconstruction Commission Mr. Justice Bland, the President, said he +felt sure he would be voicing the feelings of all present in +tendering his congratulations to Sir Leonardo Spaghetti Coyne on +his elevation to the peerage as Viscount Vermicelli of Milan, and +to Mr. Gladney Jebb on receiving the honour of K.P.O. (Knight of +the Proletarian Order).</p> +<p>A memorandum on the economics of the Russian Ballet and the +probable cost of its reorganisation on a Marxian basis was read by +Mr. Ploffskin of the Garden City Gymnosophist Guild. By a scheme +for a uniform salary for all dancers, compulsory vegetarian diet, +and the exclusive use of the balalaika, Mr. Ploffskin was of +opinion that a Bolshevist Ballet might be safely organised so as to +satisfy the artistic aspirations of the proletariat and counteract +the pernicious influences of the pseudo-Ethiopian style affected by +the idle rich.</p> +<p>Examined by Sir Edwin Edgar, O.M., Mr. Ploffskin admitted that +none of the famous Russian composers of recent years had associated +themselves with the Revolutionary movement, and that the Russian +Ballet had originally been an integral part of the Imperial Opera. +But he had no doubt that on a proper proletarian basis it would +function with a far more beneficent activity. He pointed out that +there was a strong facial resemblance between TROTSKY and M. +PADEREWSKI, and between LENIN and BEETHOVEN. In reply to a question +from Mr. Moody MacTear, Mr. Ploffskin said that he had been down a +coal-mine in Siberia.</p> +<p>Sir Mark Holloway, who next occupied the witness's chair, +admitted, in reply to the questions of Sir Gladney Jebb, that, +since his student days, he had seldom been engaged in manual labour +on any instrument for more than two hours a day. It was not +necessary for a conductor. But he knew of pianists who practised +for six or even eight hours a day with impunity.</p> +<p><i>Sir Gladney Jebb</i>. Do you not think that if all +compositions were written in the key of C it would materially +conduce to the greatest happiness of the greatest number?—The +President has already deprecated the multiplication of hypothetical +questions, which have reached a total of more than fifteen +thousand.</p> +<p><i>Viscount Vermicelli</i>. Do you think that the unrestrained +performance of Jazz-music conduces to the moral betterment of the +simian proletariat?—That seems to me to be a question which +bears on the administration of the Unnecessary Noises Act.</p> +<p>Are you in favour of the establishment of a Ministry for the +Control of Syncopation?—No; but I would cordially support a +Bill for the Compulsory Segregation of Irresponsible +Collectivists.</p> +<p>In reply to Mr. Moody MacTear, Sir Mark Holloway said that he +had never been down a coal-mine, but that he had a few shares in a +gold-mine, which had cost him five pounds a-piece, but had never +borne any dividends and were now quoted at one-and-sixpence.</p> +<p>The next witness, Dame Frisca, the famous Californian singer, +was subjected to a remarkably severe examination by Mr. Moody +MacTear.</p> +<p><i>Mr. Moody MacTear</i>. Do you consider that the assumption of +the title <i>prima donna</i> is compatible with democratic +principles?—I never assumed it; it was bestowed on me by the +free suffrages of the musical world.</p> +<p><i>Mr. MacTear</i>. Then you admit that you possess it. Are you +prepared to submit proof of your title to the +Commission?—Certainly; but it would probably mean bringing +forty van-loads of press-cuttings and cause considerable congestion +of traffic.</p> +<p><i>Mr. MacTear</i>. Is it not the case that the <i>prima +donna</i> has been condemned by the best musical critics as an +obsolete anachronism, tending to perpetuate the abuses of the +"star" system and to foster breaches of the Decalogue and to +enhance the soloist at the expense of the chorus?—I believe +that WAGNER <span class="pagenum"><a name="page407" id= +"page407"></a>[pg 407]</span> held the view expressed in the +opening part of your question, but he was unable to get on without +her, wrote a famous address to the Star of Eve, and gave the chorus +practically nothing to do in many of his operas.</p> +<p><i>Mr. MacTear</i>. Is it not the case that the operatic tenor +has been pronounced on good authority to be not a man but a +disease?—The authority was a German conductor, who was +presumably speaking of German tenors.</p> +<p><i>Mr. MacTear</i>. Have you ever been down a +coal-mine?—No; but I was presented with a diamond brooch by +the diggers of Kimberley.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>BAKERLOONACY.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">This is a song of the Tube—</p> +<p class="i10">Let us begin it</p> +<p>By cursing the furies who fight and who bite ev'ry night</p> +<p class="i10">To get in it;</p> +<p>The folk who see red and who tread on the dead</p> +<p class="i6">And climb over the slain,</p> +<p>And who step on your face in the race for a place</p> +<p class="i10">In the train.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i10">The pack!</p> +<p class="i6">The wolves who attack,</p> +<p>Attempting to kill you until you</p> +<p class="i6">Fall flat on your back;</p> +<p>The tigers who tear at your-hair and who swear</p> +<p class="i6">As they tread on your neck,</p> +<p>Leaving you battered, bespattered and shattered,</p> +<p class="i6">An absolute wreck.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8">From these sharks,</p> +<p class="i6">These mild-looking typists and clerks,</p> +<p>May Heaven defend you. They'll rend you—up-end you</p> +<p class="i8">(I carry the marks),</p> +<p>This meek-looking, sleek-looking, weak-looking clique</p> +<p class="i6">With the Bolshevist brains</p> +<p>Inflamed at the thought that they ought to have caught</p> +<p class="i6">Much earlier trains.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i10">Mourn</p> +<p class="i6">For the hat that is flat</p> +<p>And the collar of which you were shorn.</p> +<p class="i2">Shed a tear for the dear little ear that you had</p> +<p>And the bags which to rags have been torn.</p> +<p>Weep for the fellow who tried but who died at your side</p> +<p class="i6">As the tide swept along.</p> +<p>He was a victim. They tricked him and kicked him to death,</p> +<p class="i6">Though he'd done them no wrong.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">This is a Song of the Tube.</p> +<p class="i10">A ballad of sorrow,</p> +<p>A grey sort of lay of To-day and a greyer To-morrow;</p> +<p>A dismal, abysmal, chaotic, neurotic Creation</p> +<p>Of one who was done after running a mile</p> +<p class="i10">To the station.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href= +"images/407.png"><img width="100%" src="images/407.png" alt= +"I THINK I'LL MAKE A BID FOR THAT CHAP, MARIA, FOR A HALL-MAT AND STAIR-CARPET." /> +</a> +<p><i>Munitionaire</i>. "I THINK I'LL MAKE A BID FOR THAT CHAP, +MARIA, FOR A HALL-MAT AND STAIR-CARPET."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<p>From a report of the Coal Commission:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"The next witness was Lord Dynevor. He said he had 8,270 acres +of coal land in Carmarthenshire. His interest in the estate came to +the family through one of three collieresses."</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Even Mr. SMILLIE would admit that that ought to constitute an +absolute title.</p> +<hr /> +<h4>More Impending Apologies.</h4> +<p>From a bookseller's advertisement:</p> +<blockquote> +<p class="center">"NEW FICTION.</p> +<p>Reason and Belief—By Sir Oliver Lodge.<br /> +Man and the Universe—By Sir Oliver Lodge.<br /> +The Great Crusade—By Right Hon. D.<br /> +Lloyd George."—<i>Canadian Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"It was essential for Great Britain that France should emerge +from this war strong and able to defend herself. The recognition of +this fact explains the change of British policy at Pars during the +Wonference of Peace."—<i>The Times</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>We like the new title for the victors' conclave, but do not care +so much for the unusual spelling of the French capital, though it +may have been adopted in deference to American prejudices.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page408" id="page408"></a>[pg +408]</span> +<h2>"DIAMOND-CUT-DIAMOND."</h2> +<p>This is to warn all honest men to beware of No. 007 Field +Company, R.E., known to its victims as "Chaucer's Gang," the most +conscienceless crew of body-snatchers and common thieves in all the +B.E.F.</p> +<p>I am myself no fastidious precisian, being in a Labour Company, +but there are limits—or should be. My own particular grouch +against them started at Ripilly-sur-Somme. They, being skilled +Royal Engineers, were clearing undergrowth and putting up huts in +Ripilly woods for a division due to arrive, and my scorned rabble +were unloading the huts in sections from barges at Ripilly canal +wharf and loading them on to lorries for transport to the woods. +Chaucer and his Royal Engineers were living on the +spot—Ardennes waving o'er them her green leaves and so +forth—and we were in rest billets (loud roars of raucous +laughter) in Ripilly village, the least sanitary spot in the whole +war zone.</p> +<p>Chaucer wouldn't let us stay with him in the huts—said the +Chief Engineer was very keen on men living next their work. But +between Ripilly and the canal wharf was an ideal spot. The chalk +downs sloped steeply to the river, and halfway down was a bit of a +level plateau just the size for a couple of huts. South aspect; +good fishing and bathing; a home from home. The woods hid it from +view above and the roadside poplars from below. It was a truly +desirable building site.</p> +<p>We had a hurdle-maker in our company, so I gave him a brace of +light-duty men as apprentices and they built a little hut of wattle +and daub. It had a nice rural appearance and was warm, but it +leaked in wet weather, and the more I thought of Chaucer lying dry +under his felt roofs the worse I felt about it. So I had a chat +with my sergeant at the wharf, and the long and short of it was +that two walls and one roof got delivered by mistake at the +desirable building-site.</p> +<p>We worked late that night, and next day had thirty men in +residence, with one end of the long hut partitioned off for +Simmonds, my subaltern, and myself.</p> +<p>So far so good. I began to think about making another mistake +and getting a second hut, but that evening Chaucer came sliding +down over the steep turf, visibly annoyed.</p> +<p>"Where did you get this hut?"</p> +<p>"Found it."</p> +<p>"On Ripilly wharf?"</p> +<p>"Certainly not. I found it down there by the road and had it +brought up here for safety. If a lorry had run over it in the +dark—"</p> +<p>"Ah, cut it out," he said. "The hut is mine. I found two odd +sections in the last barge-load. Any poacher who knew his job would +burn the feathers when he cooked the bird. You needn't start to +explain about your fool N.C.O., who made a mistake. I keep that +sort of N.C.O. myself. <i>If</i> I get an official inquiry about +this hut I shall send back official information."</p> +<p>"Right-o! Then come in and have a drink, and don't be official +before you need."</p> +<p>That's where I was wrong. I tried to enlist the blighter's +sympathy. Showed him round camp, the view, the +bathing—everything. When Simmonds came up from the river with +a string of roach Chaucer admitted it was a truly <i>bon</i> +billet.</p> +<p>Next day he called again with one of his subalterns, a creature +called Gubson, who went down to the river to watch Simmonds fish. +When he had gone Chaucer told me he had a spare hut.</p> +<p>"Not one of these divisional huts, but a thing we knocked up +ourselves. We've nearly finished our job here, and if it's any use +to you you can have it. But mind you, I know nothing about this +other hut you've got here. If you're caught with that one your +blood be on your own head."</p> +<p>"You're a Christian," I told him, and, Gubson and Simmonds +returning, the conference had a drink and adjourned.</p> +<p>Next day I found quite a squad of light-duty men, and sent 'em +to dismantle and bring down Chaucer's hut. I admit they rather +exceeded instructions, for they brought a lot of things that +Chaucer had omitted to mention. However, they said he was there +when they took them, so I supposed it was all right. Besides the +hut they had two bell-tents, a big tarpaulin, some corrugated iron +and expanded metal, some home-made chairs and tables, a water-tank +and a field kitchen, with its wheels broken off—a noble lot +of loot it was. They worked like beavers bringing it down and +getting it in place, and when Chaucer drifted down again at the end +of the week all my men were housed there as snug as you please. +Finally Gubson presented the camp with a punt he had salved in +Sailly village—and there we were, all the pleasures of the +Riviera and none of the disreputable company.</p> +<p>We were so pleased with all they had done for us that we +suggested they should stay the night and celebrate the occasion. +Chaucer said he would be delighted, if we would send to his batman +and tell him to bring down his razor and toothbrush. At midnight, +when the batman arrived, Chaucer said it was time for bed. And +could we give his man a shake-down, please? It was pretty dark, he +said, and the fool might lose his way home.</p> +<p>That should have warned me. Chaucer wasn't the man to keep a +batman who was a fool.</p> +<p>It must have been about 3 A.M. when I was waked by my man +helping Chaucer dress.</p> +<p>"What's the matter?"</p> +<p>"Your fellow says my man's ill."</p> +<p>"What is it?"</p> +<p>"I dunno, Sir," my man said. "'E 's groanin' an' rollin' about +an' keepin' all us others awake."</p> +<p>When I got to the men's hut I found Chaucer kneeling beside the +sick man, who was holding his head and groaning. All the other men +were sitting up and looking on. After a minute or two Chaucer got +up and beckoned me outside.</p> +<p>"Look here," he said, "I don't want to scare you, but suppose +that chap's got anything infectious. Is there a doctor handy?</p> +<p>"Nowhere nearer than Sailly."</p> +<p>"Well, Gubson tells me they were expecting the M.O. at our camp +today. He may have stayed the night. Can you send somebody up to +see?"</p> +<p>I sent off an orderly at once, and in half-an-hour a young +doctor arrived, and ordered all the other men out of the hut. Then +he pulled a gaudy handkerchief out of his pocket, sprinkled it with +some stuff out of a small phial, tied it over his mouth and only +then began to fiddle about the sick man, feeling his pulse and +sounding him.</p> +<p>Then he got up, readjusted his handkerchief-respirator and +mumbled that it was cerebro-spinal-something. Spotted fever.</p> +<p>We all got out of that hut in double-quick time, believe me. The +doctor was full of orders—half a hundred things to do at +once. The man must be strictly isolated. All the +contacts—every blessed man who had been in the hut with +him—must be placed under supervision. The hut must be put out +of bounds. And when he found half the men had gone under the +tarpaulin shelter he put that out of bounds too.</p> +<p>We were a full hour trying to separate the contacts; but when +the doctor found the cook getting breakfast ready and heard he had +been in the sick man's hut he threw his hand in.</p> +<p>"I won't answer for a single one of you," he said; "the place is +no better than a pest-house. Throw that breakfast away. It's sheer +poison. Clear out, all of you."</p> +<p>It was Chaucer started the panic. I saw him sneaking away up the +slope, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page409" id="page409"></a>[pg +409]</span> so I thought it better to make a move too. I didn't ask +the doctor where we were to go; he'd have had us all sleeping out +on the open grass for a week if I had. So the whole lot of us, half +asleep, trekked back to Ripilly village and turned into our old +billets again.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>It was my Sergeant-Major who told me next day that Chaucer and +his gang had taken possession of the Riviera—my Riviera. I +went there at once, to find out what it all meant, but they had a +sentry at the foot of the slope, who said the camp was infected and +no one was allowed there; so I climbed the slopes and looked down +from above. Chaucer was smoking outside my pet hut talking to a +couple of his subalterns, and a string of men was lined up beside +the field kitchen for tea. Close by, the batman, recovered from his +illness, was putting a fishing-rod together, and one of the +subalterns blew his nose on a gaudy handkerchief which I recognised +at once.</p> +<p>I went straight back and told the Town Major of Ripilly that one +of the new divisional huts was being occupied by the Sappers. It +wasn't cricket, but it was all I could do.</p> +<p>"That's all right," he said. "Chaucer's acting as divisional +R.E. He's entitled to one hut. He told me he had been arranging for +you to erect it for him."</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/409.png"><img width="100%" src="images/409.png" alt= +"LIFE'S DIFFICULTIES." /></a> +<h3>LIFE'S DIFFICULTIES.</h3> +<p><i>Mother</i>. "WHY, WHAT'S THE MATTER, DARLING?"</p> +<p><i>Small daughter (tearfully)</i>. "OH, MUMS, I DO SO WANT TO +GIVE THIS WORM TO MY HEN."</p> +<p><i>Mother</i>. "THEN WHY DON'T YOU?"</p> +<p><i>Small daughter (with renewed wails)</i>. " C-COS I'M SO +AFRAID THE WORM WON'T LIKE IT."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h4>Our Pessimists.</h4> +<blockquote> +<p>"Applications are invited from properly qualified persons for +the position of Medical Officer of Health....</p> +<p>The appointment will be from the 1st July, 1919, for the +duration of the War."—<i>Advt. in Local Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"Chicks, day old; ready Saturday."—<i>Advt. in Local +Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It looks like a case of counting before they are hatched.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>THE KEY TO FAIRYLAND.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The trees have magic doorways</p> +<p class="i2">Down into Fairy-land,</p> +<p>Yet nobody, but only me,</p> +<p class="i2">Has time to understand</p> +<p>That if <i>we</i> knew the magic,</p> +<p class="i2">If <i>we</i> could work it too,</p> +<p>We could creep down to Fairy-town</p> +<p class="i2">And do as fairies do.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The keys are four-leaved clovers;</p> +<p class="i2">They're not so hard to get—</p> +<p>Just creep about and search them out,</p> +<p class="i2">And don't mind getting wet;</p> +<p>But oh! I wish the fairies</p> +<p class="i2">Weren't <i>quite</i> so secrety;</p> +<p>I've tried and tried, but <i>still</i> they hide</p> +<p class="i2">The key-holes for each key.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h4>From Grave to Gay.</h4> +<blockquote> +<p>"The Burial Board resolved that tenders be obtained from the +various bands in the district with a view to holding concerts in +the Queen's Gardens during the summer months."</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page410" id="page410"></a>[pg +410]</span> +<h2>AT THE PLAY.</h2> +<p class="center">"CYRANO" MOVES TO DRURY LANE.</p> +<p>SIR THOMAS BEECHAM, having been translated to another place, has +made way for <i>Cyrano</i> and his nose, which now finds more room +to turn round in. I had not seen Mr. LORAINE on the more congested +stage of the Garrick. Indeed the last time that I assisted at M. +ROSTAND'S play was some twenty years ago in the South of France. It +happened that there had recently been a vogue of Musketeer plays in +England. Behind my seat was a British Baronet (a recent creation) +for whom the French language had little or no meaning. The first +and only sign of intelligence that he showed was well on in the +performance, at the words, "<i>Qui est ce monsieur?" "C'est +D'Artagnan." (D'Artagnan</i> then disappears altogether).</p> +<p>"Another of these damned Musketeer plays," said the Bart.; "I'm +off!" And he went.</p> +<p>I am not sure that, even in English, it would have been just the +play for his taste; but that London has plenty of people who can +appreciate it may be seen by the way in which Mr. LORAINE can hold +the great auditorium under the spell of its romance. Without an +effort he endears to us the defects of his hero's Quixotic +qualities, and makes his very deformity contribute to the triumph +of his heroic <i>panache</i>. Even such of the poet's prolixities +as survive a very careful pruning of the text are made to seem +essential to the self-expression of character.</p> +<p>Mr. LORAINE is happy in his book, for the clever rendering made +by Miss GLADYS THOMAS and Miss MARY GUILLEMARD reproduces both the +spirit and the letter of the poem. And from his cast he gets all +the support that he needs. True, he needs very little. He fills the +stage, and the other characters—notably the colourless +<i>Christian de Neuvillette</i>—are little more than his +foils. Miss STELLA CAMPBELL, as <i>Roxane</i>, failed, at times, to +convey a sense of overwhelming passion either for the body of +<i>Christian</i> or the soul which she imagined it to contain; but +she was always a gracious figure and her voice was gentle. Perhaps +Mr. LORAINE owed most to his scenic artists, Messrs. DULAC and JOHN +BULL, who gave of their best. There was attraction too in the very +names of Arras and Bapaume, as well as in the thought of the part +that our <i>Cyrano</i> of to-day has played against a ruder foe +than the Spaniard. And was I wrong in tracing a hint of other +experiences gained at the front, when Mr. LORAINE nearly turned up +his false nose at the mention of "military wit."</p> +<p>The part offers little scope for humour. <i>Cyrano</i>, with all +his generous impulses, is too self-conscious for that. But in each +of his moods and phases—bravado, sacrifice, acceptance of the +inexorable pathos of things—Mr. LORAINE had got at the heart +of the man. A very brave and inspiring performance.</p> +<p class="author">O.S.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:40%;"><a href= +"images/410.png"><img width="100%" src="images/410.png" alt= +"WHERE YOU BIN THIS HOUR OF THE NIGHT?" /></a> +<p>"WHERE YOU BIN THIS HOUR OF THE NIGHT?"</p> +<p>"I'VE BIN AT ME UNION, CONSIDERIN' THIS 'ERE STRIKE."</p> +<p>"WELL—YOU CAN STAY DOWN THERE AN' CONSIDER THIS 'ERE +LOCK-OUT."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h4>How History is written.</h4> +<p>From reports of Mr. ASQUITH'S speech at Newcastle:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"He [Lord French] has taken an unusual, and I think an +unfortunate, course (cheers), giving to the world at this stage +what must be an <i>ex parte</i> narrative of what happened under +his command."—<i>Times</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>"He has taken an unusual, and as I take it, an unfortunate +course in giving to the world what must of necessity be an expert +narrative of what happened under his command."—<i>Daily +Herald</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p class="center">"BEAUTY IN HOUSE BUILDING.</p> +<p class="center">LET US LOOK AS THOUGH WE HAD WON THE +WAR."—<i>Daily Mirror</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Who said we hadn't?</p> +<hr /> +<h2>THE DAY.</h2> +<p>At last the great day has arrived; in less than half an hour I +shall be at the church. Heavens! what excitement. And yet I suppose +most girls have had to undergo the ordeal, if one may so describe +it, at some period of their life.</p> +<p>The magic church is not far distant and from my room I can hear +the merry pealing of the bells. In the garden the birds are singing +as they have never sung before. Truly life is a beautiful poem on +such a day as this.</p> +<p>But I have really little time to dwell on these things, for am I +not the centre of creation itself, the hub around which the whole +household revolves in one wild bewildering whirl of ecstasy? How +can one think when one is surrounded by a triumphant mother, a +couple of adoring and not envious sisters, a critical brother and a +doting father?</p> +<p>But then why should I think? Why use my brain at all when all +the thinking that needs to be thought is being thought for me? +Goodness, how my poor head reels. If only I could sleep. Ah, yes, +that is what I could almost wish for at this moment—sweet, +soothing, refreshing sleep.</p> +<p>But it is not to be; the house is just a great tearing +pandemonium of joy. Hark! What's that? A motor horn? Yes, yes, a +taxi is at the gate. Now another has glided forward and waits +expectantly for the central figure—myself.</p> +<p>"Well, darling," murmurs my father, "it's high time we were off. +Wouldn't do to be late today, you know." And he laughs proudly.</p> +<p>Can I describe the journey to the church? I can, but I will +spare you. Enough to say that I carry myself with dignity. Whether +I do so in the vast solemn atmosphere of the church I am unable to +say, though I will confess to a feeling almost of awe.</p> +<p>In deep silence we move down the aisle. The service begins. Can +I repeat it? I fear not. But one passage there is which stands out +prominently from the rest. It is in the form of a demand made by +the clergyman. Looking steadily at my father, he +exclaims:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"<i>Name this child</i>."</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I am roused to a fresh interest, and with fast-beating heart I +await my father's answer. It comes as a bombshell to my sensitive +ears:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"<i>Armisticia Beatty Zeebrugge!</i>"</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And I believed that only Germans could wage war on helpless +babes.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page411" id="page411"></a>[pg +411]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/411.png"><img width="100%" src="images/411.png" alt= +"SPRING-TIME IN THE OFFICE." /></a> +<h3>SPRING-TIME IN THE OFFICE.</h3> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> +<p class="center"><i>(By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned +Clerks.)</i></p> +<p>Books dealing with life at the Front have naturally somewhat +slackened in volume of late. Perhaps this accounts for some part of +my interest in <i>Pushed and the Return Push</i> (BLACKWOOD). But +more must be put down to the lure of the subject, and most of all +to the admirable way in which the writer, who chooses to be known +as "QUEX," has dealt with it. Briefly, the book is a record of the +two great sensational movements of 1918, and of the writer's +experiences as an officer of an Artillery Brigade in the retreat +forced upon the Fifth Army by the break through of the Germans on +March 21st, and subsequently in the return push which broke the +Hindenburg Lino and ended the War. The publishers say that this is +the only account yet written by a participator in these happenings; +I hardly think that any will appear more vivid and moving. The +amazing sequence of the events with which it deals gives to the +book the thrill of arranged drama, in which disaster is balanced by +the triumphant ending. However unskilfully told, such a history +could hardly fail of its effect; by good fortune, however, it finds +in "QUEX" a chronicler able to do it justice. Simply and without +apparent effort he conveys the suspense of the days before the +attack (a couple of chapters here are as breathlessly exciting as +anything that I have yet read in the literature of the War), the +long trial of the retreat, and finally the retaliation and the +ever-quickening rush forward from victory to victory that makes +last autumn seem like an age of miracles. It is essentially a +soldier's story, at times technical, throughout filled with the +unflurried all-in-the-day's-work philosophy that upheld our armies +in every change of fortune. For many reasons a volume that should +find its place in any collection of the smaller histories of the +Great War.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Until I had very nearly reached the end of <i>The Cormorant</i> +(MELROSE) I could not, though I tried, make up my mind as to which +of three possible claimants was filling the title-role. When I did +discover the "Cormorant's" identity with a fourth person quite +unsuspected, I found myself just a little inclined to wonder +whether perhaps the authoress had not had the mystification of her +readers as her real aim when she chose her title, and merely +introduced a pleasant American, who called people names with a +sincerity few of us would dare to imitate, in order to justify her +choice. But all the same I am not going to tell her secret here, +for I feel that much will be added to the interest of a very +pleasant book if readers will pause long enough at the end of +chapter sixteen to try to "spot" the "Cormorant" and—as I +hope and believe—guess wrong. Miss ANN (or ANNE, for her +publishers seem to be in two minds about it) WEAVER has compounded +her tale from the somewhat ordinary ingredients of a heroine, as +aggressively red-haired as only red-haired heroines can be; a +philandering but finally faithful hero; a worthless but charming +married man, and a number of less important people, many of whom +are well drawn, though I think that I have met that scheming and +malicious French maid before. <i>The Cormorant's</i> lines are +chiefly laid in country houses of the more delightful sort and the +story is well told. When Miss WEAVER invents a more distinguished +plot she should do something very good indeed.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. HORACE BLEACKLEY'S <i>Anymoon</i> (LANE) is a reasonably +diverting because superbly improbable account of England under the +new Socialist Commonwealth, with <i>Joseph <span class= +"pagenum"><a name="page412" id="page412"></a>[pg 412]</span> +Anymoon</i>, a highly popular Cockney plebeian, as President. +Follows an era of feminist control and a Bolshevist revolution +contrived by one <i>Cohen</i> (with the authentic properties, +"Crimson Guards" and purple morality), and finally the Restoration +through the loyalist Navy, the complacent <i>Anymoon</i> consoling +himself with the reflection that if he was a failure as CROMWELL he +can at least be a success as General MONK. Perhaps the wilder +critics of the present order have no reason to complain if their +impatient generalisations are marshalled, however disingenuously, +against them. But the judicious folk of every school who are now +trying to take their bearings may wonder if much is to be gained by +putting up and knocking down such flimsy figures of straw. Mr. +HAROLD COX contributes a rather too solemn preface, which labels +this otherwise irresponsible novel as a serious tract. I rather +think that the engaging spectacle of the biographer of WILKES and +the editor of <i>The Edinburgh</i> (the author of <i>The New +Republic</i> surely somewhere in the offing) crouching among the +headstones with a candle in a hollow turnip will make a certain +appeal to those with a sense of humour and proportion ... The +others may like it even better.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Nothing could be more attractive than the central idea of <i>The +Love Spinner</i> (METHUEN), which is to tell the war-time +adventures of a little old lady—the good fairy of her +circle—whose interest in the heart-affairs of her friends +wins her this pleasant if slightly sentimental title. But, +ungrateful as is the task of breaking so innocent a butterfly upon +the wheel of criticism, I'm afraid I must add that I think Miss +CLARA TURNBULL has hardly carried out her purpose with sufficient +discrimination. In plain fact she has allowed her sympathies to run +away with her. Such a character as <i>Miss Jessie</i>, who goes +about doing good, and producing incidentally the most benevolent +reactions in confirmed misanthropes, demands to be handled with the +nicest care if sentimentality is to be avoided. Let me put it that +Miss TURNBULL has not always been entirely successful in this +respect. Thus, despite some agreeable scenes, the book remains one +for the unsophisticated, or for those whose appetite for fictional +glucose is robust. There is not very much that can be called plot; +what there is concerns itself with the fortunes of <i>Miss +Jessie's</i> tenants, the chief objects of her ministrations. In +the end an air-raid, of which the details are surely unusual, +provides <i>Miss Jessie</i> with the opportunity for a deed of +heroism that I am still trying to visualize (her nephew had thrown +her down and was protecting her body with his own; but the heroine, +seeing this, changed places with her defender "between the flash of +the shell's impact and the explosion") and finishes, with an +appropriately tearful death-scene, a tale that would have been +improved by more restraint in the telling.</p> +<p>In <i>The Thunderbolt</i> (UNWIN) <i>Georgina Bonham</i>, at +home and amongst her intimates, delighted in small-talk. It flowed +in an unceasing stream, particularly when <i>Dr. Rayke</i>, her +chief adviser and confidant, came to tea and ate his favourite +currant-and-sultana cake. Everything, in fact, prepares you for one +of the tamest of all tame novels, when suddenly the "Thunderbolt" +of the title remembers its attributes and bursts from a clear sky. +Thenceforward Mr. GEORGE COLMORE'S book is of a particularly +painful character. For the horrors which here accumulate on +horror's head I find no adequate excuse, even though the villain of +the story is a German.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p><i>Blanche Maddison</i>, the heroine of <i>The Obstinate +Lady</i> (HUTCHINSON), might without any excess of rudeness be +called pig-headed. With her case in my mind let me advise women who +have married disgusting men to seek whatever shelter the law may +give them rather than adopt her persistently cold and aloof manner. +I hardly wonder that her husband found her a little exasperating. +We all know Mr. W.E. NORRIS as a novelist who can be trusted not +only to tell an intriguing story, but also to construct it +irreproachably. But here, I think, he has penalised himself with +the materials he has chosen. However he sets bravely to work to +wipe off his handicap, and very nearly succeeds. If I cannot credit +him with complete success it is because the subsidiary tale of love +which he gives us is really too anaemic. Yet I can conceive of +people so fed up with the makers of blood-heat fiction that Mr. +NORRIS'S lukewarm method will afford them a pleasant change.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>However cleverly Mr. WILLIAM CAINE may treat his theme, <i>The +Wife Who Came Alive</i> (JENKINS) is only another version of the +antiquated mother-in-law business. <i>Doll Brackett</i> was a +beautiful American girl, and if she had not been idiotically +idolised by her mother and could have realised the difference +between pounds and pence she might have made an excellent wife for +<i>George March</i>, of Hampstead, portrait-painter. <i>Mrs. +Brackett</i> was not actively hostile to this marriage, but after +losing her fortune she began to disapprove of the economy which +<i>March</i> preached and tried in vain to practise. Persuaded that +her idol was no longer becomingly enshrined, she proceeded to make +trouble between husband and wife, and they separated. Then followed +a very lean time both for <i>Mrs. Brackett</i> and her daughter, +until at last the former made such an outrageous proposal that +<i>Doll</i> came to her senses. You will easily believe that this +sort of subject offers no very favourable outlet for Mr. CAINE'S +particular gifts, but the confidential style in which he tells the +story is distinctly engaging, and as a warning to foolish +mothers-in-law it is something more than adequate.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href= +"images/412.png"><img width="100%" src="images/412.png" alt= +"ANYBODY WANT THE ALBERT 'ALL?" /></a> +<p><i>Bus Conductor</i>. "ANYBODY WANT THE ALBERT 'ALL?"</p> +<p><i>Weary Househunter (absent-mindedly).</i> "IT'S RATHER LARGE, +BUT PERHAPS I MIGHT BE ALLOWED TO SUB-LET A PART."</p> +</div> +<hr class="full" /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12231 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/12231-h/images/393.png b/12231-h/images/393.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..63f104c --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/393.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/395.png b/12231-h/images/395.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..40cb896 --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/395.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/396.png b/12231-h/images/396.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..98da746 --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/396.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/397.png b/12231-h/images/397.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4867b2c --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/397.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/398.png b/12231-h/images/398.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..78beac8 --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/398.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/399.png b/12231-h/images/399.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b890e4c --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/399.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/401-1.png b/12231-h/images/401-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f13364b --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/401-1.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/401-2.png b/12231-h/images/401-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..26f81dc --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/401-2.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/401-3.png b/12231-h/images/401-3.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..83d40db --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/401-3.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/401-4.png b/12231-h/images/401-4.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..93ecdcc --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/401-4.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/401-5.png b/12231-h/images/401-5.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d511add --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/401-5.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/401-6.png b/12231-h/images/401-6.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3e564b9 --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/401-6.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/401-7.png b/12231-h/images/401-7.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..958a9e7 --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/401-7.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/402.png b/12231-h/images/402.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4e138a0 --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/402.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/403.png b/12231-h/images/403.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5c3b84a --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/403.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/405.png b/12231-h/images/405.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fadabcc --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/405.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/406.png b/12231-h/images/406.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bd40fc8 --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/406.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/407.png b/12231-h/images/407.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7943013 --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/407.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/409.png b/12231-h/images/409.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8e76d5a --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/409.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/410.png b/12231-h/images/410.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac9efc3 --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/410.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/411.png b/12231-h/images/411.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..05d7ecc --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/411.png diff --git a/12231-h/images/412.png b/12231-h/images/412.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..93417ae --- /dev/null +++ b/12231-h/images/412.png |
