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diff --git a/12294-h/12294-h.htm b/12294-h/12294-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..de86531 --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/12294-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1777 @@ +<!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, January 7, +1914.</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; +margin-right : 5%; +} +.yours { +text-align : right; +margin-right : 10%; +margin-top : -1em; +margin-bottom : 1.5em; +} +.exit { +text-align : right; +margin-right : 5%; +margin-top : -1em; +margin-bottom : -1em; +} +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; +} + +--> +/*]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12294 ***</div> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> +<h2>Vol. 146.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>January 7, 1914.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page1" id="page1"></a>[pg 1]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/001.png"><img width="100%" src="images/001.png" alt= +"THE MONARCH OF THE GLEN" /></a></div> +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<h3><i>AMENDE DÉSHONORABLE</i>.</h3> +<p>Heavily dragged the night; the Year</p> +<p class="i2">Was passing, and the clock's slow tick</p> +<p>Boomed its sad message to my ear</p> +<p class="i2">And made me pretty sick.</p> +<p>"You have been slack," I told myself, "and weak;</p> +<p class="i2">You have done foolishly, from wilful choice;</p> +<p class="i2">Sloth and procrastination—" Here my voice</p> +<p class="i6">Broke in a squeak.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And deep repentance welled in me</p> +<p class="i2">As I mused darkly on my sin;</p> +<p>Yea, Conscience stung me, like a bee</p> +<p class="i2">That gets her barb well in.</p> +<p>"Next year," I swore, in this compunctious mood,</p> +<p>"I will be energetic, virtuous, kind;</p> +<p class="i2">Unflinching I will face the awful grind</p> +<p class="i6">Of being good."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I paused, half troubled by a thought—</p> +<p class="i2">Were my proposals too sublime?</p> +<p>Vowed I more deeply than I ought?</p> +<p class="i2">I glanced to see the time.</p> +<p>It was 12.10 A.M. At once a thrill,</p> +<p class="i2">A wave of manful resolution, sped</p> +<p class="i2">Through all my being. "Yes," I bravely said;</p> +<p class="i6">"<i>Next</i> year I will!"</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page2" id="page2"></a>[pg 2]</span> +<h2>A PLAY OF FEATURES.</h2> +<blockquote> +<p class="note">[Being Sir GEORGE ALEXANDER'S production of <i>The +Attack</i> at the St. James's.]</p> +</blockquote> +<p class="center">SCENE—Alexandre Mérital's +<i>house</i>.</p> +<p class="center">ACT I.</p> +<p><i>Daniel Mérital</i>. My father is a wonderful man. +Leader of the Social Party in the Chamber of Deputies, noted among +his colleagues for his absolute integrity, supported by the +millionaire newspaper proprietor, Frépeau, whose motives, +between ourselves, are not altogether above— Oh, are you +there, Father? I didn't see you. I'm just off to play tennis.</p> +<p class="exit">[<i>Exit</i>.</p> +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Renée de Rould.</p> +<p><i>Renée</i>. Mr. Mérital, may I speak to you a +moment?</p> +<p><i>Georges Alexandre Mérital (with, characteristic +suavity</i>). Certainly.</p> +<p><i>Renée</i>, I love you. Will you marry me?</p> +<p><i>Mérital (surprised</i>). Well, really—this +is—I—you—we—er, he, she, +they—Frankly, you embarrass me. (<i>Apologetically</i>) This +is my embarrassed face.</p> +<p><i>Renée</i>. But I thought you loved me. Don't you?</p> +<p><i>Mérital</i>. No. That is to say, yes. Or +rather—</p> +<p><i>Renée (tearfully</i>). I w-wish you could make it +plainer whether you d-do love me and are pretending you don't, or +you d-don't love me and are pretending you do. It's v-very +unsettling for a young girl not to know.</p> +<p><i>Sir GEORGES ALEXANDRE (surprised and a little hurt</i>). +Can't you tell from my face?</p> +<p><i>Miss MARTHA HEDMAN</i>. This is my first appearance in +England, Sir GEORGES.</p> +<p><i>Sir GEORGES</i>. True. I was forgetting. Well, when you have +been with us a little longer, you will know that this is my face +when I adore anyone very much, but, owing to an unfortunate episode +in my past life, am forced to hide my love.</p> +<p><i>Renée (alarmed</i>). Your past <i>wife</i> isn't alive +somewhere?</p> +<p><i>Mérital</i>. Oh no, not that sort of thing at all. +(<i>Embracing her carefully</i>.) I will marry you, Renée, +but run along now because my friend Frépeau is coming, and +he probably wants to talk business.</p> +<p class="exit">[<i>Exit</i> Renée.</p> +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Frépeau.</p> +<p><i>Frépeau (excitedly</i>). Mérital, you are in +danger. A scandalous libel is being circulated about you.</p> +<p><i>Mérital (calmly</i>). Pooh! Faugh!</p> +<p><i>Frépeau</i>. It is said that thirty years ago +(Alexandre's <i>nose twitches</i>), when you were in a solicitor's +office (Alexandre's <i>jaw drops</i>), you stole ninepence from the +stamp drawer (Alexandre's <i>eyeballs roll</i>). Of course it is a +lie?</p> +<p><i>Mérital (with a great effort obtaining command of his +features again</i>). Of course.</p> +<p class="center">CURTAIN.</p> +<p class="center">ACT II.</p> +<p><i>Daniel Mérital</i>. Father's face has been very odd +these last few weeks. Sometimes I wonder whether he didn't steal +the money after all. But we shall know after the libel action this +afternoon. It starts at two. Oh, are you there, Father? I'm just +going to see a man about something.</p> +<p class="exit">[<i>Exit</i>.</p> +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Frépeau.</p> +<p><i>Mérital</i>. Ah, Frépeau, the man I wanted to +see. (<i>Plaintively</i>) Frépeau, when you called on me in +the First Act, don't you think you might have given some indication +by the play of your features that it was <i>you</i> who originated +this libel against me, and that you are my deadly enemy? The merest +twitch of the ears would have been enough.</p> +<p><i>HOLMAN CLARK</i>. I wanted it to be a surprise for the +audience.</p> +<p><i>Sir GEORGES</i>. Yes, but is that art?</p> +<p><i>HOLMAN CLARK</i>. Besides, in real life—</p> +<p><i>Sir GEORGES (amazed</i>). Real life? Good Heavens, HOLMAN, is +this <i>your</i> first appearance in England too?</p> +<p><i>HOLMAN CLARK (annoyed</i>). Let's get on with the play.</p> +<p><i>Sir GEORGES</i>. Certainly. Wait a moment till I've got my +"strong-man-with-his-back-to-the-wall" expression. (<i>Arranging +his face</i>.) How's that?</p> +<p><i>HOLMAN CLARK</i>. Begin again.... That's better.</p> +<p><i>Mérital (sternly</i>). Now then, Frépeau! I +must ask you to give instructions that the libel is withdrawn in +court this afternoon. If not—</p> +<p><i>Frépeau</i>. Well?</p> +<p><i>Mérital (softly</i>). I know somebody else who stole +something from the stamp drawer thirty years ago. (Frépeau's +<i>whiskers tremble</i>.) Aha, I thought I'd move you this +time.</p> +<p><i>Frépeau</i>. It's a lie! How did you find out?</p> +<p><i>Mérital (blandly</i>). I said to myself, "I am the +hero of this play and I've got to get out of this mess somehow. If +I could only find some papers incriminating the +villain—that's you all would be well." So +I—er—found them.... It's no good, Frépeau. +Unless you let me off, you're done.</p> +<p><i>Frépeau (getting up</i>). Well, I suppose I must. But +personally I'd be ashamed to escape through such a rotten +coincidence as that. (<i>Making for the door</i>.) I'll just go and +arrange it. Er, I suppose this is the end?</p> +<p><i>Sir GEORGES</i>. The end? Good Heavens, man, I've got my big +scene to come. I have to explain <i>why</i> Mérital stole +the money thirty years ago!</p> +<p><i>HOLMAN CLARK (eagerly</i>). Let me guess. His wife was +starv—</p> +<p><i>SIR GEORGES</i>. No, no, don't spoil it. (<i>Sternly</i>) +It's a very serious thing, HOLMAN, to spoil an actor-manager's big +scene.</p> +<p class="center">CURTAIN.</p> +<p class="center">ACT III.</p> +<p><i>Daniel Mérital</i>. Father has won his case. I +<i>am</i> glad. Oh, are you there, Father? I'm just going +downstairs to count the telegrams.</p> +<p class="exit">[<i>Exit</i>.</p> +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Renée.</p> +<p><i>Renée</i>. You have won the case? I knew it. I knew +you were innocent.</p> +<p><i>Mérital (nobly</i>). Renee, I am not innocent. I did +steal that ninepence. I would have confessed it before, but I had +to think of my family. (<i>Cheers from the gallery</i>.) Of course +it would also have been unpleasant for <i>me</i> if it had been +known, but that did not influence me. (<i>More cheers</i>.) I +thought only of my children. Let me tell you now <i>why</i> I stole +it.</p> +<p><i>Renée (eagerly</i>). Let me guess. Your wife was +starving—</p> +<p><i>Mérital (astounded</i>). Wonderful! How ever did you +know?</p> +<p><i>Renée</i>. —and you meant to repay the +money.</p> +<p><i>Mérital</i>. More and more marvellous. Yes, +Renée, that was how it was. But it hardly does justice to +the affair. It is too short. I want to tell you the story of my +<i>whole</i> life and then you will understand. Watch my face +carefully and observe how it works; notice the constant movement of +my hands; listen to the inflections of my voice. This is going to +be the longest speech ever made by an actor-manager, and you +mustn't miss a moment of it. H'r'm! Now then. (<i>Nobly</i>) I was +born fifty-three years ago. My father....</p> +<p><i>Renée (half-an-hour later</i>). I still love you.</p> +<p><i>Mérital (with some truth</i>). What a love yours +is!</p> +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Daniel, Julien <i>and</i> Georgette +Mérital.</p> +<p><i>Daniel</i>. Father, we have a confession to make. For some +time we doubted your innocence. Your face—well, you'd have +doubted it yourself if you'd seen it.</p> +<p><i>Mérital (taking his hand affectionately</i>). Ah! +Daniel, I see I must tell you the story of my life. (<i>Excitement +among the audience</i>.) And you too, Julien. (<i>Panic</i>.) Yes, +and—little Georgette!</p> +<p class="center">SAFETY CURTAIN.</p> +<p class="author">A. A. M.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page3" id="page3"></a>[pg 3]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/003.png"><img width="100%" src="images/003.png" alt= +"THE EARTHLY PARADISE." /></a> +<h3>THE EARTHLY PARADISE.</h3> +<i>Coster</i>. "SEE THAT, LIZ? THERE'S A COUNTRY FOR YOU!"</div> +<hr /> +<!--Blankpage 4--> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page5" id="page5"></a>[pg 5]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/005.png"><img width="100%" src="images/005.png" alt= +"PEACEFUL PERSUASION." /></a> +<h3>PEACEFUL PERSUASION.</h3> +(JONES IS NOT NATURALLY A GENEROUS MAN.)</div> +<hr /> +<h2>THE ROMANCE OF A BATTLESHIP.</h2> +<p class="center"><i>(From the Navy League Annual of 1916.)</i></p> +<p>I have just returned (writes a Naval correspondent) from an +interesting visit to the condemned battleship, <i>H.M.S. +Indefensible</i>, which is now anchored off Brightlingsea, in the +charge of retired petty-officer Herbert Tompkins and his wife.</p> +<p>The history of <i>H.M.S. Indefensible</i>, as gathered from the +lips of her present curator, is so romantic as to be worthy of +permanent record. In reply to my first question, "Whom did she +belong to first of all?" Mr. Tompkins said, "Well, she was ordered +first of all by the Argentine Republic, but, owing to a change of +Government, they sold her to the Italians. I remember the launch at +Barrow quite well," he said. "It was a mighty fine show, with the +Italian Ambassador and his wife—the <i>Magnifico Pomposo</i>, +they called her, I think it was—and there was speechifying +and hurraying and enough champagne drunk to float her. That was +just three years ago: a super-Dreadnought, they called her."</p> +<p>"Then how did the British Government get her?"</p> +<p>"Lor bless you, Sir, that didn't come for a long time yet. Ye +see, Italy shortly afterwards made an alliance with Denmark, and, +wishing to do the Danes a good turn, she arranged to sell them the +<i>Magnifico Pomposo</i> at cost price—about three millions I +think it was. But immediately afterwards the Russo-Chinese war +broke out, and the Chinese offered the Danes four millions for the +<i>Dannebrog</i>, as they had called her, so by the time the +engines were put into her she had been rechristened the +<i>Hoang-Ho</i>. But the war never came off: you remember that Mr. +ROOSEVELT settled it by fighting a single combat with the Russian +champion after he had been appointed President of China; so the +Chinese leased the <i>Hoang-Ho</i> to the King of SIAM for four +years at a million a year."</p> +<p>"Did she get out to Siam, then?"</p> +<p>"Oh no, Sir, no fear. The crew ran her on the Goodwin Sands on +her trial trip, and there she stuck for a year. Before they got her +off the Siamese had been released from their bargain by the Hague +Tribunal, Mr. ROOSEVELT had resigned the Presidency of China for +that of Mexico, and the new President sold the <i>Chulalongkorn</i> +back to Great Britain. Of course by that time she was quite +obsolete, so they called her the <i>Indefensible</i>, and put a +nucleus crew on board for a few months. Then when Mr. LLOYD GEORGE +became Prime Minister, they offered her to Canada as a gift; but +the Canadians didn't like her name. And when Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL +came back last month he decided that she was to be made a target; +but last week I heard she was to be sold for scrap-iron."</p> +<p>"Then whom does she belong to now?"</p> +<p>"Well, Sir, some says she belongs to Canada, and others say +she's British, and others say she belongs to Mr. CHURCHILL, but in +a manner of speaking I think she rightly belongs to Mrs. Tompkins +and me."</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"On making enquiries at the Hospital this afternoon, we learn +that the deceased is as well as can be expected."—<i>Jersey +Evening Post</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It would, of course, be foolish to expect much.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page6" id="page6"></a>[pg 6]</span> +<h2>A NEW BOOK OF BEAUTY.</h2> +<p>A hundred years ago they had line, engravings by CHARLES HEATH, +and the long-necked, ringleted ladies looked wistfully or +simperingly at you. I have several examples: <i>Caskets, Albums, +Keepsakes</i>.</p> +<p>This book is different. The steel engravers have long since all +died of starvation; and here are photographs only, but there are +many more of them, and (strange innovation!) there are more +gentlemen than ladies. For this preponderance there is a good +commercial reason, as any student of the work will quickly +discover, for we are now entering a sphere of life where the beauty +of the sterner sex (if so severe a word can be applied to such +sublimation of everything that is soft and voluptuous and +endearing) is more considered than that of the other. Beautiful +ladies are here in some profusion, but the first place is for +beautiful and guinea-earning gentlemen.</p> +<p>In the old Books of Beauty one could make a choice. There was +always one lady supremely longer-necked, more wistful or more +simpering than the others. But in this new Book of Beauty one turns +the pages only to be more perplexed. The embarrassment of riches is +too embarrassing. I have been through the work a score of times and +am still wondering on whom my affections and admiration are most +firmly fixed.</p> +<p>This new Book of Beauty has a very different title from the old +ones. It is called <i>The Pekingese</i>, and is the revised edition +for 1914.</p> +<p>How to play the part of <i>Paris</i> where all the competitors +have some irresistibility, as all have of either sex! Once I +thought that Wee Mo of Westwood was my heart's chiefest delight, "a +flame-red little dog with black mask and ear-fringes, profuse coat +and featherings, flat wide skull, short flat face, short bowed legs +and well-shaped body." But then I turned back to Broadoak Beetle +and on to Broadoak Cirawanzi, and Young Beetle, and Nanking Fo, and +Ta Fo of Greystones, and Petshé Ah Wei, and Hay Ch'ah of +Toddington, and that superb Sultanic creature, King Rudolph of +Ruritania, and Champion Howbury Ming, and Su Eh of Newnham, and +King Beetle of Minden, and Champion Hu Hi, and Mo Sho, and that +rich red dog, Buddha of Burford. And having chosen these I might +just as well scratch out their names and write in others, for every +male face in this book is a poem.</p> +<p>The ladies, as I have said, are in the minority, for obvious +reasons, for these little disdainful distinguished gentlemen figure +here as potential fathers, with their fees somewhat indelicately +named; for there's a husbandry on earth as well as in heaven.</p> +<p>Such ladies as are here are here for their beauty alone and are +beyond or below price. Their favours are not to be bought. Among +them I note with especial joy Yiptse of Chinatown, Mandarin Marvel, +who "inherits the beautiful front of her sire, Broadoak Beetle"; +Lavender of Burton-on-Dee, "fawn with black mask"; Chi-Fa of +Alderbourne, "a most charming and devoted little companion"; Yeng +Loo of Ipsley; Detlong Mo-li of Alderburne, one of the "beautiful +red daughters of Wong-ti of Alderburne," Champion Chaou Ching-ur, +of whom her owner says that "in quaintness and individuality and in +loving disposition she is unequalled" and is also "quite a 'woman +of the world,' very <i>blasée</i> and also very punctilious +in trifles;" Pearl of Cotehele, "bright red with beautiful back"; +E-Wo Tu T'su; Berylune Tzu Hsi Chu; Ko-ki of Radbourne and +Siddington Fi-fi.</p> +<p>Every now and then there is an article in the papers asking and +answering the question, What is the greatest benefit that has come +to mankind in the past half century? The answer is usually the +Marconi system, or the cinema, or the pianola, or the turbine, or +the Röntgen rays, or the telephone or the motor car. Always +something utilitarian or scientific. But why should we not say that +it was the introduction of Pekingese into England from China? +According to an historical sketch at the beginning of this book, +the first Pekingese were brought over in 1860, after the occupation +of Pekin by the Allies. The first black ones came here in 1896, and +now in 1914 there are thousands of these wholly alluring and +adorable and masterful little big-hearted creatures in England, +turning staid men and women into ecstatic worshippers and making +children lyrical with cries of appreciation. The book before me is +the finest monument yet raised to this conquering breed.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href= +"images/006.png"><img width="100%" src="images/006.png" alt= +"NEW SEASON'S NOVELTIES." /></a> +<h4>NEW SEASON'S NOVELTIES.</h4> +<p style="text-indent:0">1. THE CAT'S-MEAT HAT-PIN PROTECTOR.<br /> +2. THE MUD-SPLASH VEIL.<br /> +3. THE THROAT CORSET.</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>MISUNDERSTOOD.</h2> +<p class="center"><i>(A Story of the Stone Age.)</i></p> +<p>Of all the young bachelors in his tribe not one was more highly +esteemed than Ug, the son of Zug. He was one of the nicest young +prehistoric men that ever sprang seven feet into the air to avoid +the impulsive bite of a sabre-tooth tiger, or cheered the hearts of +grave elders searching for inter-tribal talent by his lightning +sprints in front of excitable mammoths. Everybody liked Ug, and it +was a matter of surprise to his friends that he had never +married.</p> +<p>One bright day, however, they were interested to observe that he +had begun to exhibit all the symptoms. He brooded apart. Twice in +succession he refused a second help of pterodactyl at the tribal +luncheon table. And there were those who claimed to have come upon +him laboriously writing poetry on the walls of distant caves.</p> +<p>It should be understood that in those days only the most +powerful motive, such as a whole-hearted love, could drive a man to +writing poetry; for it was not the ridiculously simple task which +it is to-day. The alphabet had not yet been invented, and the only +method by which a young man could express himself was by carving or +writing on stone a series of pictures, each of which conveyed the +sense of some word or phrase. Thus, where the modern bard takes but +a few seconds to write, "You made me love you. I didn't want to do +it, I didn't want to do it," Ug, the son of Zug, had to sit up +night after night till he had carved three trees, a plesiosaurus, +four kinds of fish, a star-shaped rock, eleven <span class= +"pagenum"><a name="page7" id="page7"></a>[pg 7]</span> different +varieties of flowering shrub, and a more or less lifelike +representation of a mammoth surprised while bathing. It is little +wonder that the youth of the period, ever impetuous, looked askance +at this method of revealing their passion, and preferred to give +proof of their sincerity and fervour by waiting for the lady of +their affections behind a rock and stunning her with a club.</p> +<p>But the refined and sensitive nature of Ug, the son of Zug, +shrank from this brusque form of wooing. He was shy with women. To +him there was something a little coarse, almost ungentlemanly, in +the orthodox form of proposal; and he had made up his mind that, if +ever he should happen to fall in love, he would propose by +ideograph.</p> +<p>It was shortly after he had come to this decision that, at a +boy-and-girl dance given by a popular local hostess, he met the +divinest creature he had ever seen. Her name was Wug, the daughter +of Glug; and from the moment of their introduction he realised that +she was the one girl in the world for him. It only remained to +compose the ideograph.</p> +<p>Having steadied himself as far as possible by carving a few +poems, as described above, he addressed himself to the really +important task of the proposal.</p> +<p>It was extraordinarily difficult, for Ug had not had a very good +education. All he knew he had picked up in the give and take of +tribal life. For this reason he felt it would be better to keep the +thing short. But it was hard to condense all he felt into a brief +note. For a long time he thought in vain, then one night, as he +tossed sleeplessly on his bed of rocks, he came to a decision. He +would just ideograph, "Dear Wug, I love you. Yours faithfully, Ug. +P.S. R.S.V.P.," and leave it at that. So in the morning he got to +work, and by the end of the week the ideograph was completed. It +consisted of a rising sun, two cave-bears, a walrus, seventeen +shin-bones of the lesser rib-nosed baboon, a brontosaurus, three +sand-eels, and a pterodactyl devouring a mangold-wurzel. It was an +uncommonly neat piece of work, he considered, for one who had never +attended an art-school. He was pleased with it. It would, he +flattered himself, be a queer sort of girl who could stand out +against that. For the first time for weeks he slept soundly and +peacefully.</p> +<p>Next day his valet brought him with his morning beverage a piece +of flat rock. On it was carved a simple human thigh-bone. He +uttered a loud cry. She had rejected him. The parcel-post, an hour +later, brought him his own ideograph, returned without a word.</p> +<p>Ug's greatest friend in the tribe was Jug, son of Mug, a youth +of extraordinary tact and intelligence. To him Ug took his +trouble.</p> +<p>Jug heard his story, and asked to see exactly what he had +ideographed.</p> +<p>"You must have expressed yourself badly," he said.</p> +<p>"On the contrary," replied Ug, with some pique, "my proposal was +brief, but it was a model of what that sort of proposal should be. +Here it is. Read it for yourself."</p> +<p>Jug read it. Then he looked at his friend, concerned.</p> +<p>"But, my dear old man, what on earth did you mean by saying she +has red hair and that you hate the sight of her?"</p> +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> +<p>"Why, this ichthyosaurus."</p> +<p>"That's not an ichthyosaurus. It's a brontosaurus."</p> +<p>"It's not a bit like a brontosaurns. And it <i>is</i> rather +like an ichthyosaurus. Where you went wrong was in not taking a few +simple lessons in this sort of thing first."</p> +<p>"If you ask me," said Ug disgustedly, "this picture-writing is +silly rot. To-morrow I start an Alphabet."</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>But on the morrow he was otherwise employed. He was standing, +concealed behind a rock, at the mouth of the cave of Wug, daughter +of Glug. There was a dreamy look in his eyes, and his fingers were +clasped like steel bands round the handle of one of the most +business-like clubs the Stone Age had ever seen. Orthodoxy had +found another disciple.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/007.png"><img width="100%" src="images/007.png" alt= +"An Army Boxing Competition" /></a> SCENE—<i>An Army Boxing +Competition</i>. +<p><i>Civilian</i>. "RATHER A FEARFUL MAN, THAT?"</p> +<p><i>Soldier</i>. "WELL, 'E AIN'T REALLY VERY FEARFUL. YOU SEE THE +BIG FELLOW'S 'IS SERGEANT AN' THIS IS THE ONLY CHANCE 'E 'AS OF +GETTING A BIT OF 'IS OWN BACK."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page8" id="page8"></a>[pg 8]</span> +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> +<p>Sir ERNEST SHACKLETON is to undertake a new expedition to the +South Pole, and across the whole South Polar Continent. It is said +that an offer from Dr. COOK, who happens to be over here, to show +Sir ERNEST how he might save himself much wearisome travelling in +achieving his object, has been rejected.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Judge PARRY declares, in the current number of <i>The +Cornhill</i>, that lost golf balls belong to the KING; and the +ballroom at Buckingham Palace is, we understand, to be enlarged at +once.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. BERNARD SHAW is the latest addition to Madame TUSSAUD'S +gallery of wax-works. But Mr. CHESTERTON must not be jealous. He +too, we understand, will be placed there if room can be found for +him.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>From some correspondence in <i>The Express</i> we learn that +members of more than one savage tribe have a habit of standing on +one leg. We see no objection to this at all, but we were bound to +protest the other day, in a crowded train, when we came across a +stout gentleman standing on one foot. The foot, we should mention, +was ours.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Of the late Mr. JOHN WILLIAM WHITE, who was only twenty-one +inches in height, we are told that he was an ardent politician. +Could he have been a Little Englander?</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Straws show which way the wind blows, and the fact that the +first prize in the Christmas Lottery at Madrid has been won in +Madrid, and the second in London, is held by wiseacres to prove +that there is a secret understanding between our country and +Spain.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The fact that France's Colonial Empire, which is already +extensive, has been increased by the birth, during a volcanic +eruption, of a new island in the New Hebrides, has caused some +little irritation in Germany.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The Lost Property department of Scotland Yard will, it is said, +this year easily beat all previous records in the number of +articles lost. But we English have always had the reputation of +being good losers.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>It is announced that Miss PHYLLIS DESMOND, of the Gaiety +Theatre, and Mr. C.R. FINCH NOYES, of the Royal Naval Flying Corps, +were married secretly last June. As proving how difficult it is to +keep a secret we believe that the fact has been known for some time +past both to Miss DESMOND and Mr. NOYES.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Special cinema productions depicting scenes of a sacred nature +were provided by enterprising managers for the clergy during the +holiday season. When one remembers that there is also <i>Who's the +Lady?</i> running under distinguished episcopal patronage, the +modern curate cannot complain that he is not well catered for.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>We congratulate <i>The Daily Mail</i> on finding a peculiarly +appropriate topic for discussion at Christmas time. It was "Too +Much Cramming."</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Thieves broke into the vestry during the service and stole the +gold watch and chain which the minister preaching the Christmas +sermon at Marylebone Presbyterian church had left there. The +minister must be sorry now that he did not trust his +congregation.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. GEORGE BAKER, of Brentwood, received a presentation the +other day on completing his fiftieth year as a carol singer. He +mentioned that once, at the beginning of his career, his carol +party was broken up by an angry London householder, who fired a +pistol-shot from his bedroom window. The modern Londoner, we fear, +is decadent, and lacks the necessary spirit.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Dr. MARY WILLIAMS, medical inspector of schools under the +Worcestershire County Council, has discovered, as a result of +investigations, that there is a higher proportion of nervous, +excitable children among the red-haired ones than among the others. +We have ourselves known more than one such lad lose all +self-control merely upon being addressed as "Carrots."</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Is a motor-car, it is being asked, feminine—like a ship? A +correspondent in <i>The Times</i> refers to her as a lady. +Presumably because she wears a bonnet.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A correspondent writes to <i>The Pall Mall Gazette</i> asking +whether there is anything in the idea that a large number of used +penny postage stamps will enable a person to be received into a +charitable institution. We have always understood that the +collector of one million of these stamps is admitted into a lunatic +asylum without having to pass the entrance examination.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A lion from the bush, attracted by the roaring of its caged +relatives in a circus at Wankies, South Africa, suddenly made its +way into the menagerie. The beast was ultimately driven away by +attendants armed with red-hot pokers, but five persons were +seriously injured in the panic. The ticket-collector who let the +animal in without payment has been reprimanded.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Speaking of MEDWIN'S <i>Revised Life of Shelley</i> a critic +says, in a contemporary: "He puts the well-known boats of +Archimedes into blank verse." These boats were, we presume, fitted +with ARCHIMEDES' famous screw?</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The Hindujah barrage on the Euphrates has now been completed by +an English firm, and will provide water for the Garden of Eden. The +structure, we presume, is a blend of the ADAM style with NOAH'S +architecture.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"TRAINING SHIP OFF THE EMBANKMENT" is a heading which attracts +our attention. This seems a much better idea than having the vessel +<i>on</i> the Embankment, where it would be in everyone's way.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>THE LAST STRAW.</h3> +<blockquote> +<p class="note">["The way in which individual taste is allowed to +assert itself lends a curious charm to the present +modes."—<i>Fashion Note</i>.]</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>This is the finish, Josephine.</p> +<p class="i2">Through every swift sartorial change</p> +<p>Constant and true my love has been,</p> +<p class="i2">Nor showed the least desire to range.</p> +<p>The hobble only brought to me</p> +<p class="i2">These thoughts with consolation laden:—</p> +<p>"Lo, this is Fashion's fell decree;</p> +<p>One must not blame the maiden.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"It is not hers this hideous choice;</p> +<p class="i2">She blindly follows Fashion's lead,</p> +<p>And deference to a ruling voice</p> +<p class="i2">Proclaims her just the wife I need.</p> +<p>Nought questioning, she answers to</p> +<p class="i2">That voice, as soldiers to a trumpet;"</p> +<p>And thus I choked the thought that you</p> +<p class="i2">Were barmy on the crumpet.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But now unhappy doubts intrude</p> +<p class="i2">To bid my satisfaction shrink;</p> +<p>For Fashion in a gracious mood</p> +<p class="i2">Allows her devotees to think.</p> +<p>Since for your present garb, it seems,</p> +<p class="i2">The mode is not to blame <i>in toto</i>,</p> +<p>This is the end of love's young dreams</p> +<p class="i2">(Dear, you may keep my photo).</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"Of course, there is a dress parade, with some wonderful +dresses, but if it had been only a parade it would not have been +less interesting."—<i>Daily News.</i></p> +</blockquote> +<p>It would have been more interesting—but we hardly expected +<i>The Daily News</i> to say so.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page9" id="page9"></a>[pg 9]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> +<h3>THE HOLIDAY ENTERTAINERS.</h3> +<p><i>Extract from Mr. Herbert Stodge's letter to his sister.</i> +"WE WERE GLAD TO HAVE OUR NEPHEW AND NIECE WITH US, BUT, FRANKLY, +THEY ARE TOO SOLEMN.</p> +<br /> +<a href="images/009-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/009-1.png" +alt="THE HOLIDAY ENTERTAINERS-1." /></a> +<table width="100%" summary="top captions"> +<tr> +<td>"WE TOOK THEM TO THE PANTOMIME;</td> +<td> </td> +<td>THEY CAME OUT GOLFING WITH US;</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/009-2.png"><img width="100%" src="images/009-2.png" alt= +"THE HOLIDAY ENTERTAINERS -2." /></a> +<table width="100%" summary="top captions"> +<tr> +<td>AND WE ALLOWED THEM TO SIT UP LATE,</td> +<td> </td> +<td width="40%">BUT THE ONLY TIME THEY SMILED WAS WHEN THEY SAID +GOOD-BYE."</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page10" id="page10"></a>[pg +10]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/010.png"><img width="100%" src="images/010.png" alt= +"AT OUR LOCAL FANCY CARNIVAL." /></a> +<h3>AT OUR LOCAL FANCY CARNIVAL.</h3> +<p><i>Individual in Tights</i>. "I SAY, THIS PLACE IS BEASTLY +WARM—I THINK I'LL CUT OFF HOME."</p> +<p><i>The One with the Scythe</i>. "I THINK I WILL ALSO. I WONDER +WHAT THE TIME IS?"</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>THE SUBSCRIPTION.</h2> +<p>Charles, when our protest was lodged, merely replied that our +favour of the 10th inst. was to hand, and that he really could not +see his way to moving further in the matter. Let me explain the +present extent of Charles's movement.</p> +<p>Miss Donelan, who ought to have known better, had allowed +herself to be saddled with a thing called a Branch subscription +list on behalf of the St. Nicholas New Year Offering.</p> +<p>Having exploited the probables and possibles she finally handed +the document on to me with instructions to tout it round among my +friends. (This is the sort of thing you get nowadays for placing +your life at a young woman's disposal.)</p> +<p>Unfortunately I have no friends just now, except what I want to +keep. While I was thus at a loss, Charles came to stay for a few +days three doors off. He lives a long way away and would have time +to forget before I saw him again. So on the day before his +departure I bearded him like a man.</p> +<p>"Charles," I began, "you are fabulously rich. Your income comes +in at such a pace that you hardly ever know within five shillings +how much you have at the bank."</p> +<p>Charles blinked through the smoke of a violet-tipped +cigarette.</p> +<p>"What about it?" he asked.</p> +<p>"This," I said; "I am, very reluctantly, offering you the chance +of doing good. All you have to do is to sign your name here for +anything up to a hundred pounds, and the good does itself. It is +the Saint Nicholas New Year Offering."</p> +<p>"What does it do?" asked Charles uncomfortably.</p> +<p>"Do?" I answered. "Why, I don't think it does exactly <i>do</i>. +You see it's a New Year Offering."</p> +<p>"I see," said Charles. "It doesn't do; it offers. Just like a +Member of Parliament."</p> +<p>"I wish," I said, "instead of being funny at other people's +expense you would be serious at your own, and tell me exactly how +much I can put you down for?"</p> +<p>"There you go again," said Charles. "You want me to think of +some definite amount on the spot. You know I hate thinking, and I +hate definite amounts. And I loathe doing anything on the +spot."</p> +<p>I looked at the subscription list. The last entry +was:—</p> +<pre> + Major-General R. Hewland, £5 5<i>s</i>. 0<i>d</i>. +</pre> +<p>"You needn't do any thinking," I explained patiently. "You need +only stick down exactly the same as the last man. And if you'll +promise to do it I'll leave the list with you, and you can fill it +in when you feel sufficiently off the spot."</p> +<p>"Exactly the same?" asked Charles.</p> +<p>"Exactly," I said, with rising hopes.</p> +<p>"All right," said Charles. "I'll let you have it some time."</p> +<p>Four days later, at Miss Donelan's urgent request, I wrote to +Charles for it. It came in less than forty-eight hours.</p> +<p>Extract from conclusion of subscription list returned by +Charles:—</p> +<pre> + Major-General R. Hewland, £5 5<i>s</i>. 0<i>d</i>. + " " " " " " " +</pre> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<h4>Dinner-Table Topics.</h4> +<p class="center">"MR. LLOYD GEORGE<br /> +GOING TO A WARMER CLIMATE."</p> +<p class="author"><i>Midland Evening News</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<h4>Another Accident to an Infinitive.</h4> +<p>"It is good news to at last hear that progress is being made +again towards healing the 'split.'"—<i>Nottingham Football +Post</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>So far not much progress is visible.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"Lord and Lady Arthur Hill arrived at Maples yesterday from +London."—<i>Observer</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And Mrs. and Miss Tomkins (in pursuit of bargains) continue to +arrive daily at Peter Snelbody's from Cricklewood.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page11" id="page11"></a>[pg +11]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/011.png"><img width="100%" src="images/011.png" alt= +"THE SPLENDID PAUPERS." /></a> +<h3>THE SPLENDID PAUPERS.</h3> +<p>FIRST TURKISH OFFICIAL (<i>presented with a photograph of the +new Turkish Navy in lieu of six months' deferred pay</i>). "SO, +WE'VE GOT A <i>DREADNOUGHT</i>, HAVE WE?"</p> +<p>SECOND TURKISH OFFICIAL. "I DON'T KNOW WHO GETS THE DREAD, BUT I +KNOW WE'VE GOT THE NOUGHT."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<!--Blank page 12--> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page13" id="page13"></a>[pg +13]</span> +<h3>THE SPELL</h3> +<blockquote> +<p><i>whereby the Good People may be brought back to a house which +they have deserted</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Fairies!—whatsoever sprite</p> +<p class="i2">Near about us dwells—</p> +<p>You who roam the hills at night,</p> +<p class="i2">You who haunt the dells—</p> +<p class="i2">Where you harbour, hear us!</p> +<p>By the Lady Hecate's might,</p> +<p class="i2">Hearken and come near us!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Though we greatly fear, alack!</p> +<p class="i2">Cloddish unbelief</p> +<p>Angered you and made you pack</p> +<p class="i2">To our present grief,</p> +<p class="i2">Hearts you shall not harden:</p> +<p>Bathe your hurts and come you back</p> +<p class="i2">Here to house and garden!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>By the oak and ash and thorn,</p> +<p class="i2">By the rowan tree,</p> +<p>This was done ere we were born:</p> +<p class="i2">Kith nor kin are we</p> +<p class="i2">Of the folk whose blindness</p> +<p>Shut you out with scathe and scorn,</p> +<p class="i2">Banished with unkindness.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>See, we call you, hands entwined,</p> +<p class="i2">Standing at our door,</p> +<p>With the glowing hearth behind</p> +<p class="i2">And the wood before.</p> +<p class="i2">Thence, where you are lurking,</p> +<p>Back we bring you, bring and bind</p> +<p class="i2">With our magic's working.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Lo, our best we give for cess,</p> +<p class="i2">Having naught above</p> +<p>Handsel of our happiness,</p> +<p class="i2">Seizin of our love.</p> +<p class="i2">Take it then, O fairies!</p> +<p>Homely gods that guard and bless,</p> +<p class="i2">Little kindly <i>Lares</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:66%;"><a href= +"images/013.png"><img width="100%" src="images/013.png" alt= +"'ULLO, 'ERB; GOT A JOB, THEN" /></a><i>(5.35 A.M. workman's +train.)</i><br /> +<br /> +<p><i>Bill</i>. "'ULLO, 'ERB; GOT A JOB, THEN?"</p> +<p><i>'Erb.</i> "I AIN'T GOIN' UP TO LON'ON FOR A TANGO LESSON, I +GIVE YOU <i>MY</i> WORD."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>WHAT OUR READERS THINK OF US.</h3> +<p><i>The Daily Express</i> having invited its readers to intimate +their opinion of that journal, <i>Mr. Punch</i> decided also to +give the grumblers a chance of saying what they think of his +production, and he now publishes a typical selection of the letters +which have reached him:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Sir,—I gave up your journal many years ago on account of +its partisanship, and never read it now. Only last week I came +across a paragraph in my copy which made me throw the paper into +the waste-paper basket.</p> +<p class="yours">Yours faithfully, VERITAS.</p> +<p>Sir,—Why is it you always favour the Tories?</p> +<p class="yours">Yours faithfully, WELSH MEMBER.</p> +<p>Sir,—If you continue to publish cartoons with a pronounced +Radical bias I am afraid you will lose at least one.</p> +<p class="yours">OLD SUBSCRIBER.</p> +<p>Sir,—I object to the advertisements. I think it would be a +good move if you were to drop these, increase the number of pages, +and reduce the price to a halfpenny. In taking this course you +would have the support of several influential members of my parish, +in addition to myself.</p> +<p class="yours">Yours faithfully, A COUNTRY PARSON.</p> +<p>Sir,—What your paper needs is light relief. Could you not +give us a little humour now and then?</p> +<p class="yours">Yours faithfully, A POPULAR WRITER.</p> +<p>P.S.—The last MS. you returned to me was very much +crumpled. Please be more careful in the future.</p> +<p>Sir,—I think it a pity you publish jokes. In this age, +when all things—even our dear Bishops—are considered +fit subjects for jest, we could do with one serious-minded paper. +Trusting you will think this over,</p> +<p class="yours">Yours faithfully, HITCHY KIKUYU.</p> +<p>Sir,—-You should see our American comic papers.</p> +<p class="yours">Yours faithfully, WASHINGTON G. BUSTER.</p> +<p>Sir,—I find the blank pages at the back of the cartoons +very useful for making notes on. Could you not extend this +feature?</p> +<p class="yours">Yours faithfully, PROFESSOR.</p> +<p>Sir,—I think you would do well to cater more for +women—who, after all, are a rising sex. A page each week +devoted to modern fashions would not be at all out of place in your +paper.</p> +<p class="yours">Yours faithfully, EVE.</p> +<p>Sir,—In my opinion your paper is the cleverest in the +country—nay in the world. Nowhere else is such exquisite +literary discrimination shown. I enclose a small contribution for +your consideration, and am,</p> +<p class="yours">Yours faithfully, CONSTANT READER.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page14" id="page14"></a>[pg +14]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href= +"images/014.png"><img width="100%" src="images/014.png" alt= +"TWELFTH NIGHT 2077 (JAN. 6)." /></a> +<h5>"TWELFTH NIGHT" (JAN. 6).</h5> +<p><i>Mr. Lloyd George (as</i> Malvolio). "Fool, there was never +man so notoriously abused."—<i>Act IV., Scene 2.</i></p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>THE PAPER-CHASE.</h2> +<p>I arrived at home at three o'clock on a frosty afternoon. "Now," +thought I, "I shall have a quiet time before tea and shall be able +to write a few letters and start my article." It was a dream of +usefully employed leisure, but it didn't last long.</p> +<p>I found the whole family, with the addition of a little +boyfriend, gathered together in a very purposeful and alarming way +in the library There was about them an undefinable air of the +chase, for they were all well-booted and belted, and Peggy had a +large clasp-knife dangling at her waist. "It is for the hare," she +said, "when we catch him."</p> +<p>"The hare?" I said. "What hare?"</p> +<p>"You," said the lady of the house cheerfully, "are to be the +hare. You are to run till you are cooked, and then you will be +caught."</p> +<p>"What madness is this?" I said.</p> +<p>"It's not madness a bit," said Helen indignantly. "It's a +paper-chase."</p> +<p>"And I," said Rosie, "have torn up all <i>The Timeses</i>."</p> +<p>"And I," said John, who is not always sure of his tenses, though +he is very voluble, "have tored up <i>The Daily Newses</i>."</p> +<p>"That's capital," I said with enthusiasm. "A paper-chase is the +best fun in the world. I'll see you start and give you a +cheer."</p> +<p>"You can't do that," said Helen firmly, "because we've settled +that you're to carry the bag and be the hare."</p> +<p>"Come, come," I said, "this is an unworthy proposal. Would you +chase your more than middle-aged father over the open country? +Never. How could he look the village in the face if he were to be +seen scattering little bits of paper from a linen bag? He would +fall in their estimation and would drag you all with him in his +fall. John," I said, "you would not have your father fall, would +you?"</p> +<p>"It would make me laugh," said John, and the rest seemed to +think that this callous remark settled the matter.</p> +<p>"Anyhow," I said, "I must have plenty of law."</p> +<p>"We won't have any law," said Helen, who is an intelligent +child; "it's all quarrellings."</p> +<p>"Law," I said, "is the embodiment of human wisdom. In this case +it means that I'm going to have ten minutes' start. Everyone of you +must pledge his or her honour not to move until I've been gone ten +minutes."</p> +<p>They made no difficulty about this, and, the lady of the house +having appointed herself time-keeper and having promised to have a +large tea ready for us when we returned, I was sent on my way with +a bag of paper and many shrill shouts of encouragement.</p> +<p>Now I ask my colleagues in the parental business to consider my +case. I daresay they fancy themselves as runners on the strength of +their remembered boyish feats and of certain more recent runs when +they have lingered too long over breakfast and have had to catch a +train. I warn them not to build a paper-chase on so slender a +foundation. A jog-trot seems the easiest thing in the world, but +after two hundred yards the temptation to lapse into a walk becomes +irresistible. I will dwell no further on my own experiences, but +transfer myself in imagination to the hounds who were chasing me. +Afterwards I heard so much of their exploits that I almost came to +feel I had shared in their daring and been a party to their final +success.</p> +<p>From the garden door the line led across the road and on to a +track skirting the railway. This piece was taken at a brisk pace, +the scent being breast-high. A sheet might have covered the whole +pack. Then came a hairpin turn over the level crossing, a swing to +the right and a steady trudge up the hill. Half-way up there were +gates to the right and the left, and here the blown but wary hare +had laid his first false trail. This unsuspected device roused the +utmost indignation, and doubts were freely expressed as to its +being legitimate. John was sent to the right to investigate; Peggy +went off to the left, which proved to be the true trail, and in a +very short time the dauntless five were once more in full cry. +Rosie, who is a reader of books, afterwards said that no +sleuth-hounds could have done the thing better. So by paths and +ploughed fields and over gates and stiles the dreadful chase +continued until there came another check. "These," said Helen, +pointing to some pieces of paper, "are not newspaper. They are bits +of letters." It was too true. <i>The Timeses</i> and <i>The Daily +Newses</i> had given out, and the hare, omitting nothing that might +lead to his destruction, had torn up all his available +correspondence. It threw the pack out for a few minutes, but they +rallied. In another hundred-and-fifty yards they ran into their +hare, who, paperless and letterless, had taken refuge behind a tree +and was ignominiously hauled out.</p> +<p>So ended our great Christmas paper-chase, an event which must +remain justly celebrated both for the ardour with which it was +undertaken and for the endurance with which it was pursued. What a +chatter there was as we returned, what a narration of glorious +incidents of pace, of skill and of cunning defeated by greater +cunning. Falls there had been and shin-scrapes and the tearing of +skirts and stockings, and legends were made up and told again and +again. And at home the lady of the house had to hear it all once +more, and the tea she gave us was voted the best in the world.</p> +<hr /> +<p>Copy of letter to Clerk of the Peace in reply to Jury +Summons:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>DEAR SIR, Your to hand re Sumons to Quarter Sessions on Jany +9/14</p> +<p>I beg to be excused from this as I have ann absess forming under +a bad tooth and at the present time my face is very much +swollen.</p> +<p>further that the 9th being a red letter day in my life being the +day on which my dear wife passed away</p> +<p>and I have understood that all those over 60 year of age was +exempt from these things. So I shall be extreemly obligid if you +could free me this time answer by bearer will oblig</p> +<p class="yours">your respectfully</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page15" id="page15"></a>[pg +15]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/015.png"><img width="100%" src="images/015.png" alt= +"AFTER A BAD DAY'S GOLF." /></a> +<h3 style="margin-top:-1em">AFTER A BAD DAY'S GOLF.</h3> +<h5>"HERE WE ARE AGAIN."</h5> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>CONTINENTAL INTELLIGENCE.</h3> +<p>An extraordinary domestic tragedy is reported from a remote +province of Poland. A beautiful young woman, named Vera Alexandrina +Polianowski, who had been married only about two years, was +expecting the return home of her husband, a sailor. During his +absence of five months a mournful calamity had befallen her in an +affection of the larynx, which threatened to deprive her +temporarily of the power to articulate. Realising her impending +affliction, she had taught a grey parrot, which her husband had +left with her, to exclaim repeatedly from just inside the door of +her cottage, in joyous accents that bore no inconsiderable +resemblance to her own once melodious voice, these touching words, +"Enter, dearest Vladimir, and console me for my misfortune!"</p> +<p>It chanced, however, that before marrying Vladimir Polianowski, +the sailor, Vera Alexandrina had had a lover in poor circumstances +named Vladimir Crackovitch, whom, with the thoughtlessness of a +beautiful young girl, she had encouraged to get rich as quickly as +he could in America and then return to claim her as his bride. +Vladimir Crackovitch had taken her at her word. With the silent +determination of a great soul, he had amassed about a hundred +thousand dollars in America in less than four years, and only two +or three minutes before Vera Alexandrina's husband was due to +arrive he himself stood at the cottage door with folded arms, +asking himself if he should or should not enter and reproach Vera +Alexandrina for her inconstancy.</p> +<p>His hesitation was suddenly overcome by the parrot. "Enter, +dearest Vladimir, and console me for my misfortune!" it cried +eagerly from within, and, not for an instant doubting that it was +an invitation from the woman whom he still loved fondly in spite of +her perfidy, and being unaware of her laryngeal affliction, he +bounded into the house and hurried from room to room until he found +Vera Alexandrina Polianowski.</p> +<p>But Vladimir, the sailor, had already in the meantime, from the +top of an adjacent lane, beheld Vladimir Crackovitch at the door of +his home, and, being a man of the most blindly passionate and +jealous impulses, his next procedure may be imagined.</p> +<p>Several hours later a neighbour called at the cottage and +discovered the three corpses in one sad heap: Vera Alexandrina +Polianowski, shot through the breast; at her side, Vladimir +Crackovitch, with a bullet in each eye; and, still clutching his +revolver, Vladimir, the sailor, seated upon his grim cushion of the +dead, his back supported against the wall under the domestic +lamplit icon, with a smile of hellish satisfaction frozen upon his +lips and the remaining three bullets buried in his heart.</p> +<p>The above is not necessarily a true story. It is a specimen of +the small-print news with which the rather young Assistant +Sub-Editor of <i>The Dullandshire Chronicle</i> (established 1763) +is permitted, occasionally, to divert those of <i>The +Chronicle's</i> subscribers who take an intelligent interest in +continental affairs.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"You know the 'Tziganes,' don't you?—those marvellous +gentlemen in red coats with sleek dark singlets, exotic +complexions, and bold, rolling black eyes."—<i>Sunday +Chronicle</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Strictly speaking, singlets, of whatever colour, should be worn +<i>under</i> the coat.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page16" id="page16"></a>[pg +16]</span> +<h2>THE HUNTSMAN'S STORY.</h2> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I heard the huntsman calling as he drew Threeacre Spinney;</p> +<p class="i2">He found a fox and hunted him and handled him ere +night,</p> +<p>And his voice upon the hill-side was as golden as a guinea,</p> +<p class="i2">And I ventured he'd done nicely—most respectful +and polite—</p> +<p class="i2">Jig-jogging back to kennels, and the stars were +shining bright.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Old Jezebel and Jealous they were trotting at his stirrup;</p> +<p class="i2">The road was clear, the moon was up, 'twas but a mile +or so;</p> +<p>He got the pack behind him with a chirp and with a chirrup,</p> +<p class="i2">And said he, "I had the secret from my gran'dad long +ago,</p> +<p class="i2">And all the old man left me, Sir, if you should want +to know.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"And he was most a gipsy, Sir, and spoke the gipsy lingos,</p> +<p class="i2">But he knew of hounds and horses all as NIMROD might +have know'd:</p> +<p>When we'd ask him how he did it, he would say, 'You little +Gringos,</p> +<p class="i2">I learnt it from a lady that I met upon the road;</p> +<p class="i2">In the hills o' Connemara was this wondrous gift +bestowed.'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Connemara—County Galway—he was there in 1830;</p> +<p class="i2">He was taking hounds to kennel, all alone, he used to +say,</p> +<p>And the hills of Connemara, when the night is falling dirty,</p> +<p class="i2">Is an ill place to be left in when the dusk is +turning grey,</p> +<p class="i2">An ill place to be lost in most at any time o' +day.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Adown the dismal mountains that night it blew tremendous,</p> +<p class="i2">A-sobbing like a giant and a-snorting like a +whale,</p> +<p>When he saw beside the sheep-track ('Holy Saints,' says he, +'defend us!')</p> +<p class="i2">A mighty dainty lady, dressed in green, and sweet and +pale,</p> +<p class="i2">And she rode an all-cream pony with an Arab head and +tail.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Says she to him, 'Young gentleman, to you I'd be beholden</p> +<p class="i2">If you'd ride along to Fairyland this night beside o' +me;</p> +<p>There's a fox that eats our chickens—them that lays the +eggs that's golden—</p> +<p class="i2">And our little fairy mouse-dogs, ah, 'tis small +account they'll be,</p> +<p class="i2">Sure it wants an advertising pack to gobble such as +he!'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"So gran'dad says, 'Your servant, Miss,' and got his hounds +together,</p> +<p class="i2">And the mountain-side flew open and they rode into +the hill;</p> +<p>'Your country's one to cross,' says he, and rights a +stirrup-leather,</p> +<p class="i2">And he found in half-a-jiffey, and he finished with a +kill;</p> +<p class="i2">And the little fairy lady, she was with 'em with a +will.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Then 'O,' says she, 'young man,' says she, ''tis lonesome here +in Faerie,</p> +<p class="i2">So won't you stay and hunt with us and never more to +roam,</p> +<p>And take a bride'—she looks at him—'whose youth can +never vary,</p> +<p class="i2">With hair as black as midnight and a breast as white +as foam?'</p> +<p class="i2">And 'Thank you, Miss,' says gran'dad, 'but I've got a +wife at home!'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Then, 'O, young man,' says she, 'young man, then you shall take +a bounty,</p> +<p class="i2">A bounty of my magic that may grant you wishes +three;</p> +<p>Come make yourself the grandest man from out o' Galway +County</p> +<p class="i2">To Dublin's famous city all of my good gramarye?'</p> +<p class="i2">And, 'Thank you, Miss,' says gran'dad, 'but such +ain't no use to me.'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"But he said, since she was pressing of her fairy spells and +forces,</p> +<p class="i2">He'd take the threefold bounty, lest a gift he'd seem +to scorn:</p> +<p>He'd ask, beyond all other men, the tricks o' hounds and +horses,</p> +<p class="i2">And a voice to charm a woodland of a soft December +morn,</p> +<p class="i2">And sons to follow after him, all to the business +born.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"And—but here we are at home, Sir. Yes, the old man was a +terror</p> +<p class="i2">For his fairies and his nonsense, yet the story's +someways right;</p> +<p>He'd the trick o' hounds and horses to a marvel—and no +error;</p> +<p class="i2">And to hear him draw a woodland was a pride and a +delight;</p> +<p class="i2">And—<i>was it luck entirely, Sir, I killed my +fox to-night?</i>"</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>THE LITTLE WONDER.</h2> +<p>The crowd had gone, the lights had been extinguished, and the +doors of the music-hall were shut. The Little Wonder was tired +after the performance; his attempt to do the double somersault had +strained him, and his failure had brought a whipping. Although the +outhouse in which he was to lie was cold and damp and smelt +horribly, he was glad when his master thrust him into it, and he +was content to lie down in the straw and forget his misery in +sleep.</p> +<p>He dreamt a beautiful dream. He dreamt that he was a master, and +that he was presenting to a crowded audience what he had billed as +"A Marvel of the Twentieth Century"—a performing man. The man +was a creature with a pink face, oily hair, and a black moustache; +and the Little Wonder, in his capacity as master, made the Marvel +bark like a dog, whereat the audience yelped its approval. Then the +collar of a member of the audience was handed on to the stage, +while the Marvel was blindfolded, and, after sniffing the collar, +he succeeded in tracking down its owner—like a dog again. And +in whatever trick the Marvel did, the Little Wonder was close +behind him, looking so friendly and threatening him with low growls +at the same time. If the Marvel happened to remember for a moment +his miserable condition and to look unhappy, his master would look +still more kindly and threaten even more sternly. Then came the +moment when the orchestra stopped suddenly, and the kettledrum +rolled, and the eyes of the audience were fixed upon the Marvel. +For this remarkable performing man was scratching in a tub of earth +to find a bone—just like a real dog; and that was his +greatest trick. When he had successfully performed it, his master +(the Little Wonder) presented him with a twopenny cigar clothed in +a flashy cummerbund, to show how generously he rewarded +achievements. Then, as the curtain fell, he retired with many +bows—and in the wings gave the Marvel a hot time for shirking +the biscuit trick.</p> +<p>I question whether the Little Wonder in real life would have so +ill-treated any creature; but things are different in dreams; and, +as he slept, a smile seemed to come into the shaggy face of this +little Irish terrier.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"In a fierce game at Ilfracombe yesterday morning several houses +were partially unroofed, and an arcade blown +in."—<i>Scotsman</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Where was the referee?</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page17" id="page17"></a>[pg +17]</span> +<h3>RECORD RISKS.</h3> +<p class="center"><i>(A Sequel to "Narrow Escapes.")</i></p> +<p>The report that M. PADEREWSKI has been hunted by Nihilists out +of Denver has suggested to the Editor of <i>The Musical Mirror</i> +the happy thought of circularising a number of prominent musicians +with a view to ascertaining the most dangerous experiences they +have ever undergone.</p> +<p>Sir FREDERICK BRIDGE writes to say that the worst quarter of a +minute he ever spent was while tarpon fishing off the coast of +Florida, when a gigantic tarpon, weighing some 400 lbs., leaped +into the boat with its mouth wide open. With great presence of mind +the famous organist thrust into the monster's gaping jaws a full +score of STRAUSS'S <i>Elektra</i>, which he was studying between +the casts, and the tarpon at once leaped out of the boat and was +never seen or heard of again.</p> +<p>Madame MELBA'S most perilous experience was on a tour in the Far +East, when the liner in which she was travelling was caught by a +tidal wave and hurled with enormous velocity towards the rocky +coast of Sumatra. Noticing that a large whale was following the +vessel, and remembering the peculiar susceptibility of these giant +mammals to musical sounds, Madame MELBA sang the <i>scena</i>, +"Ocean, thou mighty monster," with such persuasive force that the +whale allowed itself to be made fast with a hawser and then towed +the liner back safely into the open sea.</p> +<p>Mr. Bamborough (formerly M. Bamberger) recounted the episode, +already alluded to in these columns, when he was partially eaten by +cannibals in the Solomon Islands; but the details are too harrowing +for reproduction, even in a condensed form. It is interesting to +learn, however, that a punitive expedition was despatched by the +British Government to avenge the insult, as a result of which Mr. +Bamborough was awarded an indemnity of 1,000 bales of copra, 20 +tons of sandalwood, and £3,000 worth of tortoiseshell.</p> +<p>Sir FREDERICK COWEN, in reply to the circular, states that the +closest call he ever had was when adjudicating at a Welsh +Eisteddfod. In consequence of an unpopular award he was besieged in +his hotel by an infuriated crowd and only escaped by changing +clothes with a policeman.</p> +<p>Professor Quantock de Banville relates how, while obtaining +local colour for his new Choral Symphony, he was attacked by a +gorilla in Central Africa, but tamed the mighty simian by the power +of his eye.</p> +<p>In conclusion we may note that the only disappointing answer was +received from Signor Crinuto, the famous pianist, who replied, "I +have never had a close shave, and never intend to have one."</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/017.png"><img width="100%" src="images/017.png" alt= +"THE WEEK-END AND THE EXHAUSTED MIDDLE." /></a> +<h3>THE WEEK-END AND THE EXHAUSTED MIDDLE.</h3> +TIME—<i>Wednesday, 4 P.M.</i><br /> +<i>Client (to office-boy).</i> "CAN I SEE MR. BROWN?"<br /> +<i>Office-Boy.</i> "AWAY FOR THE WEEK-END, SIR."<br /> +<i>Client</i>. "WHICH?" <i>Office-Boy.</i> "NEXT, +SIR."</div> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"A Christmas Tree Entertainment will be held in Pelican Lake +schoolhouse on Tuesday, Dec. 23. Everybody welcome, no +admission."—<i>Vermilion Standard</i> (Alberta. No relation +to <i>The Sporting Times</i>).</p> +</blockquote> +<p>You are at perfect liberty to hang about outside.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"No one can deny that it is essential London should have a +thoroughly equipped shin hospital."—<i>Advt. in +"Sphere."</i></p> +</blockquote> +<p>No footballer, anyhow.</p> +<hr /> +<h4>From a General Knowledge (sic) Examination.</h4> +<p>The Cat and Mouse Act is an Act by which a cat may not kill a +mouse unless when necessary.</p> +<p>The Apocalypse is an ailment one has apolcalyptic fits.</p> +<p>Sea-legs are when you don't have legs but a tail.</p> +<p>The All Red Route is the human throat or swallow.</p> +<p>Ten instruments for an orchestra are banjo, pianola, concertina, +mandoline, psalteries, shawms, bagpipes, bells to clash with, +violins, and bassinette.</p> +<p>To die in harness means to die married.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page18" id="page18"></a>[pg +18]</span> +<h2>AT THE PLAY.</h2> +<p class="center">"THE POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL."</p> +<p>EMERSON says somewhere that there are great ways of borrowing; +that, if you can contrive to transmute base metal into fine, nobody +will worry as to where you got your base metal from. But, when it +is the other way about, I think you must not be surprised if people +ask you where you lifted your gold. And the answer, in the case of +Miss ELEANOR GATES, is that the nuggets were the property of LEWIS +CARROLL. She has taken the sprightly and fantastic humour of +<i>Alice in Wonderland,</i> passed it through the alembic (if that +is the word) of her American imagination, and the result is +something that hardly lets you smile at all. It is not a typical +product of native industry, but even that does not make it much +easier for us to grasp the secret of its success over there. It +would seem that nearly all Transatlantic humour, indigenous or +adoptive, is apt, like certain wines, to suffer in the process of +sea-transit.</p> +<div class="figright" style="width:45%;"><a href= +"images/018.png"><img width="100%" src="images/018.png" alt= +"WITH THE TELL-TALE FOREST HUNT." /></a> +<p>WITH THE "TELL-TALE FOREST" HUNT.</p> +<p><i>The Hobby Rider</i> (Mr. CHERRY) takes the temperature of +<i>The Poor Little Rich Girl</i> (Miss STEPHANIE BELL).</p> +<p>The hound is Mr. ERNEST HENDRIE <i>(The Man who makes +Faces)</i>, well-known as <i>The Dog</i> in <i>The Blue +Bird</i>.</p> +</div> +<p>Her "Poor Little Rich Girl" is poor because her parents are too +rich. Her father is too busy with finance and her mother with +social climbing to spare time for their daughter's company, so they +leave her to the care of governesses and menials. Her nurse, +anxious for an evening out at a picture-palace, gives the child an +overdose of sleeping-mixture, with the result that she nearly dies +of it. In the course of delirious dreams she finds herself in the +"Tell-Tale Forest" (which threatens to recall <i>The Palace of +Truth</i>), and here all the picturesque phrases which she has been +in the childish habit of misinterpreting in their literal +sense—"a bee in the bonnet," to "ride hobbies," "to play +ducks and drakes," "to pay the piper," and so forth—are +realised in human or animal form. With these are mixed the familiar +figures of her waking life, all of them exposed in their true +characters so that you can distinguish the devotion of the doctor +(who now appears in pink because he likes riding hobbies) and the +affection of the teddy-bear (now expanded to human proportions) +from the serpentine nature of the governess and the double-faced +dealings of the nurse. Her father, who is a stranger to her, comes +on dressed in banknotes and chained to a safe; her mother, also a +stranger, wears a society bee which buzzes in the place where her +bonnet would have been; and five samples of the fashionable world, +where, as you know, everybody thinks the same thing at the same +time, let off recitatives from time to time in unison. And there +was much talk about "Robin Hood's Barn," a thing I was never told +about at an age when I am sure it would have given me sincere +pleasure.</p> +<p>Here and there the symbolism was obvious to the point of +crudity; but you searched in vain for a consistent scheme. The +father in his banknotes lashed to a ponderous safe was an easy +personification of the slavery of wealth, and the pantomime ducks +and drakes were simple to understand as symbolizing the career of a +spendthrift (though the father was never that); but why, you asked, +did the double-faced nurse exhaust all her spare moments and our +patience pirouetting about the stage? Did she represent the levity +of the dual life? Not at all; her actions bore no moral +significance: she was just giving a literal illustration of a +phrase—"to dance attendance."</p> +<p>I don't know how the children in the audience appreciated all +this, but I confess that some of it left me wondering whether my +intelligence was too raw or too ripe for the fancies of this +Wonder-Zoo-Land.</p> +<p>The First Act, which showed the child's life at home, had fallen +altogether flat; but the Third, in which she wakes in her pretty +bedroom, restored from the jaws of death to her repentant parents, +put us on better terms with ourselves, for we were not really hard +to please. The sweetness of it was perhaps a little cloying, but it +was all quite nice and sympathetic. Still, I am afraid I agreed +more than I was meant to with the speech of pretty little Miss +STEPHANIE BELL, when she told us before the curtain that they would +cable to the author in America to say how glad we were that it was +all over.</p> +<p>Mr. ERNEST HENDRIE, who was translated from an organ-grinder to +a maker of faces, played very soundly, but seemed to me a little +too deliberate and conscious in his speech. I found a more moving +appeal in the slight pathetic sketch of an old faithful butler by +Mr. GEORGE MALLETT. Mr. FEWLASS LLEWELLYN might easily, with a +little assistance from the author, have extracted a lot more fun +from his Plumber. Mr. MALCOLM CHERRY had a simple and popular part +as the good Doctor. Miss HELEN HAYE'S cleverness was wasted on the +character of a sinuous governess. Miss EVELYN WEEDEN did all that +was asked of the mother in both worlds—the world of fancy and +the world of fact. But, to speak truth, there was little attraction +in the performance apart from the personality of Miss STEPHANIE +BELL in the title <i>rôle</i>. If the play is to +succeed—and its hope lies in the good temper and high spirits +of holiday time—the author will owe most to the natural charm +of this delightful young lady, who played throughout with a most +engaging sincerity and ease.</p> +<p class="author">O.S.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"After fifty years of good conduct in the Ancona Penitentiary, +the life sentence of Giacomo Casale has been remitted by King +Victor Emmanuel. Casale's astonishment at the altered world in +which he found himself on coming out of prison was unbounded. He +immediately"—<i>Daily Express.</i></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Unfortunately our contemporary stops there, and leaves us all in +an agony of doubt. Our own view is that CASALE bought the Mimosa +Edition of a certain rival journal, and that the Editor of <i>The +Express</i> only just censored the paragraph in time.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"The wireless station at Kamina, in Togo, German West Africa, +has received a number of wireless telegrams from the station at +Naten, a distance of 3,348 miles. The Kamina station will not be +able to reply until its new plant, which is being set up with the +utmost speed, has been completed."—<i>Reuter</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Indeed, the opinion is held by some that it would be quicker to +reply by post.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"The prison buildings themselves are separated from this wall by +a yard measuring twenty-five years across."—<i>Daily +Dispatch</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Of course a yard ought to measure thirty-six inches.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page19" id="page19"></a>[pg +19]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/019.png"><img width="100%" src="images/019.png" alt= +"HOW'S HE BRED?" /></a> +<p><i>English Horse Dealer (to Irish horse dealer from whom he is +buying a horse).</i> "HOW'S HE BRED?"</p> +<p><i>Irish Dealer</i>. "WELL, HOW WOULD YE LIKE HIM BRED? IF HE +WAS FOR SIR PATHRICK UP AT THE CASTLE HE'D BE BY RED EAGLE OUT AV +AN ASECTIC MARE, BUT YE CAN SUIT YERSILF."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> +<p class="center"><i>(By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned +Clerks.)</i></p> +<p>If for nothing else, Mr. JACK LONDON'S latest story would +deserve a welcome for its topicality. In these days of strikes and +industrial conflict every one might be glad to know what a writer +of his individuality has to say about unions and blacklegs and +picketing. True, this is hardly the kind of thing that one has +learnt to associate with his name; and for that reason perhaps I +best liked <i>The Valley of the Moon</i> (MILLS AND BOON) after its +hero and heroine had shaken the unsavoury dust of the town from +their feet and set them towards the open country. But much had to +happen first. The hero was big <i>Billy Roberts</i>, a teamster +with the heart of a child and the strength of a +prize-fighter—which was in fact his alternative profession. +He married <i>Saxon Brown</i> ("a scream of a name" her friend +called it when introducing them to each other), and for a time +their life together was as nearly idyllic as newly-wedded +housekeeping in a mean street could permit it to be. Then came the +lean years: strikes and strike-breaking, sabotage and rioting, +prison for <i>Billy</i>, and all but starvation for <i>Saxon</i>. +Perhaps you know already that peculiar gift of Mr. JACK LONDON'S +that makes you not only see physical hardship but suffer it? I +believe that after these chapters the reader of them will never +again be able to regard a newspaper report of street-fighting with +the same detachment as before, so vivid are they, so haunting. In +the end, however, as I say, we find a happier atmosphere. The +adventures of <i>Billy</i> and <i>Saxon</i>, tramping it in search +of a home, soon make their urban terrors seem to them and the +reader a kind of nightmare. Here Mr. LONDON is at his delightful +best, and his word-pictures of country scenes are as fresh and fine +as anything he has yet done. <i>The Valley of the Moon</i>, in +short, is really two stories—one grim, one pleasant, and both +brilliantly successful.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>It is perhaps a mistake to read a novel at a sitting, since the +reaction is too sudden and the reader is apt to find the real life +and the real people surrounding him highly unsatisfactory by +contrast. Mr. JAMES PROSPER has reduced me to this state by <i>The +Mountain Apart</i> (HEINEMANN), but it is my duty as critic to +disregard my personal feelings and judge impartially between the +fictitious and the actual. Duty, then, compels me to say that the +<i>Mr. Henry Harding</i> who at the last solved all the +difficulties of <i>Rose Hilton</i> by the simple expedient of a +romantic proposal is a hollow fraud. The position was this: +<i>Rose</i> was a woman of flesh and blood and all the human +limitations, blessed and cursed with all the intricacies allotted +by Providence to the sex. Her trouble was that she had to face life +as it is, and this she found very trying. She suffered from her +marriage to a man old enough to be her grandfather, and from her +abortive grapplings both with the abstract problems of her soul and +the concrete mischiefs of her female friends. The influence of +IBSEN and a militant Suffragette didn't help her meditations, and +when her husband died she had the mortification to find that the +first man of her own age who professed love to her was no man but a +series of artistic poses. Of her difficulties, real enough up to +this point, the solution was the fraudulent <i>Henry</i>, +fraudulent because he was just a stage hero whose actions and +conversation resembled nothing on earth. <i>Henry</i>, in fact, is +the sort of person that doesn't exist, and, if he did, would be +intolerable to everybody except a novel reader worked up to a +climax. I doubt if even such a reader could stand the fellow on a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page20" id="page20"></a>[pg +20]</span> longer acquaintance. To this conclusion all must come in +their saner moments, and yet most will, I think, finish the book in +one spell and be under the delusion at the end of it that all their +troubles would be solved at once if only their friends would talk +and conduct themselves more like <i>Henry</i>.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>In <i>Theodore Roosevelt: an Autobiography</i> (MACMILLAN) the +ex-President shows us how it was done: how he started life as a +weakly lad and by perseverance made himself what he is to-day. But +what is he? That is the insoluble problem. No two people, least of +all Americans, seem to agree on the point. I have heard Mr. +ROOSEVELT called everything from a charlatan to the Saviour of his +Country. For myself, if I may intrude my own view, I have always +admired the "Bull Moose." But, since nobody on this earth, in +America or out of it, can really understand American politics, my +respect has been for Mr. ROOSEVELT'S private rather than his public +performances. And in the view that he is, take him all round, a +pretty good sort of man, this book has confirmed me. He has told +his story well. Nor is the Power of the Human "I" too much in +evidence. It is just a simple, straightforward tale of a +particularly interesting life. Whatever your views on Mr. ROOSEVELT +may be, the fact remains that he has been a cowboy, a police +commissioner of New York, a soldier on active service, and the +President of God's Country, suh; and a man must have an unusually +negative personality if he cannot make entertainment for us out of +that. Now nobody has ever suspected Mr. ROOSEVELT of a negative +personality; and it is certain that he has told a very entertaining +story. There are in this volume battle, murder, sudden death, +outlaws, cowboys, bears, American politics, and the author's views +on the English blackbird, all handsomely illustrated, and the price +is only what you would (or would not) pay for a stall to see a +musical comedy. It's a bargain.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Between the rising of the partisans of the Duchesse DE BERRI and +the dawn of the Tractarian movement there would not seem, at first +blush, to be any very close association apart from the coincidence +of their dates; yet in <i>The Vision Splendid</i> (MURRAY), by D.K. +BROSTER and G.W. TAYLOR, a link is furnished in the person of an +English clergyman's daughter, who marries a Frenchman of the +"Legitimist" aristocracy, and is loved, before and afterwards, by +an enthusiastic disciple of the Oriel Common Room. But the link is +too slight to give a proper unity to the tale; and we have to fall +back upon contrasts. Even so, the two modes of life which made up, +between them, the experience of the <i>Comtesse de la Roche-Guyon +(née Horatia Grenville</i>) are too cleanly severed by the +estranging Channel to be brought into sharp antithesis, except in +the heart of the one woman. And, since it is difficult to +understand why anyone so British in her independence and aloofness +should have surrendered her heart to the first good-looking +Frenchman who came her way, we never get to be on very intimate +terms with that organ. The construction of the story tends to break +up the action and make its interest desultory. While we are +spending a hundred odd pages at one time and fifty odd at another +in Paris and Brittany we forget, very contentedly, about Oriel; and +while we are in residence at Oxford we are practically cut +off—no doubt, to our spiritual gain—from the things of +France. The authors seem to belong to the solid old-fashioned +school that had the patience to spread itself and leave as little +as might be to the imagination. I suspect one of them of supplying +the foreign information and the other of being the correspondent on +home and clerical affairs. I don't know how many of them—if +any—are women, but I seem to trace a female hand in some of +the domestic details. But the book contains strong matter, +too—both of narrative and characterization; as in the dying +of <i>Armand de la Roche-Guyon</i>, and the picture of his lover, +<i>Madame de Vigerie</i>. And there is something of the inspiration +of the Holy Grail in that "Vision Splendid" which heartens +<i>Tristram Hungerford</i> to make sacrifice of his passion that he +may give his soul unshared to the service of the Church.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Until I had read Mr. A. RADCLYFFE DUGMORE'S book and revelled in +his most wonderful photographs I had never wished to be a caribou; +but now that I have fully digested <i>The Romance of the +Newfoundland Caribou</i> (HEINEMANN) there is only one animal whose +lot in life I really envy. This is due not to a natural sympathy +with caribous (for, as the author says, "In England it is quite the +exception to find anyone who knows what the caribou is, unless he +happens to have been to Newfoundland or certain parts of Canada," +and I was never one of the exceptions), but to the extraordinary +manner in which Mr. DUGMORE has imparted the affection that be +himself entertains for his chosen beast. Although he shoots with no +more formidable a weapon than a camera, the dangers and risks that +he has run would appal many of the sportsmen whose aim is to +destroy and not to study the lives of animals. He has, however, no +contempt for hunters, provided that they will play the game and +give a fair chance to their quarry. Another point in his favour, +which appeals mightily to me, is that after nine consecutive +seasons in Newfoundland he confesses that his knowledge of the +caribou is still incomplete. This means that, when he does make an +absolute statement, you may be pretty certain that it is true. If I +ever have to argue about the habits of caribous, there is one shot +that will remain in my locker until the very end of the argument, +and it will be, "Well, DUGMORE says so."</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:66%;"><a href= +"images/020.png"><img width="100%" src="images/020.png" alt= +"IMPRESSION OF A FOOTBALL MATCH" /></a> +<p>IMPRESSION OF A FOOTBALL MATCH GATHERED FROM OUR ILLUSTRATED +DAILY PAPERS.</p> +</div> +<hr class="full" /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12294 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/12294-h/images/001.png b/12294-h/images/001.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..166dc64 --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/001.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/003.png b/12294-h/images/003.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0d9c596 --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/003.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/005.png b/12294-h/images/005.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a6fde1 --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/005.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/006.png b/12294-h/images/006.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f5d34af --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/006.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/007.png b/12294-h/images/007.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..65a56ec --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/007.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/009-1.png b/12294-h/images/009-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3cfad5e --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/009-1.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/009-2.png b/12294-h/images/009-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..adec9ef --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/009-2.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/010.png b/12294-h/images/010.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a0c75c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/010.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/011.png b/12294-h/images/011.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e56df4c --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/011.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/013.png b/12294-h/images/013.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b4d590f --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/013.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/014.png b/12294-h/images/014.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6ad9de2 --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/014.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/015.png b/12294-h/images/015.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..db33033 --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/015.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/017.png b/12294-h/images/017.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b74ef2 --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/017.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/018.png b/12294-h/images/018.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d95e50f --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/018.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/019.png b/12294-h/images/019.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c1dc137 --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/019.png diff --git a/12294-h/images/020.png b/12294-h/images/020.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c2f9717 --- /dev/null +++ b/12294-h/images/020.png |
